His fame soon rose amongst fellow travellers as "gifted".
Little did they know, its the will which maketh a man and the boy did have it in abundance....
==============================================================================
Omi was performing one of his classic mimicry around the bonfire while Prof. Rakesh Vaidya was observing him from a distance, partially immersed in his thoughts of proving the old fort located at the top of the hill to a reminescence of national importance and partially intrigued by the boys antiques.
Professor had been a frequent visitor to the "Durg" as the locale would call it and had often halted at Omi's abode. A very mild spoken but an inquisitive mind, he had found striking similarity in Omi's dissonance of the world and his will and grasp of collecting knowledge. After all, that's what the professor had devoted his life to - collecting the lost knowledge of the unknown and in Omi's small library of sorts, he could find the same urge, miniaturised but still the same.
Professor could also sense that this small place would not contain Omi. He was far beyond this place. Soon his curiosity would grow out of what the occasional travellers could fulfill.
Soon the evening turned into a beautiful night, where one can just lie down on the slightly titled ground and marvel at hide and seek between the leaves of the pine trees and the stars in the sky. The infinite fabric of the universe sprinkled with the diamonds would leave most of the travellers from the cozy homes and multi-storeyed building in amazement and often feeling blessed to have stayed at Omi's place. He had cleaned the area around his house to accomodate travellers.
Omi took pains to go beyond the customary relationship one should have with his customers. The midnight coffee was something which Professor Rakesh always loved while he was reading his superfat book with buildings and designs in it. However, tonight was different.He was engrossed in some other thought.
Omi, without disturbing the chain of thought kept the coffee on the stone alongside professor, which with repeated usage had become flat enough to hold the mug. "Omi!" , the professor called out - The voice was always very familiar to Omi. After all only few people called him by his name his amma (grandmom) had given him. Om was something which amma continuously had on her lips out of her devotion to Lord Shiva, the supreme hindu deity. Hence Omi was a natural choice for her. But the travellers had named him chotu , pappu , and some of them also krisshh. However, Professor Vaidya always had called him "Omi" from the first time he had asked " What's your name, son ?"
"Haan, Professor Saab" - Omi retorted in a polite way. "I went through your library. You have a very good collection of sorts. It seems you have a keen interest in knowledge" - Professor asked Omi.Omi had learnt to understand english a little bit in the last couple of years, thanks to his grasping ability and the chain of foreigners who had become interested in the "Durg" of late.
Omi - " accha lagta hai aap sab se seekhna"
Professor - "Aur seekhna chahte ho ? Mere saath Shaher chaloge ?........
Of course not. Omi sure did want to learn but this was his home, with so many memories, so many people to meet everyday, the trees , the forest, the streams , as if everything conspiring for him to make it the best place in the world for him. He had known that people felt bliss in his abode and would he leave his heaven for an another world, which he had sketched from multiple voices to be a trecherous cruel world inflicted with trechery, restlessness and lack of peace. Didn't the travellers come here searching for the "Peace" and wasn't that the most import ant thing in life?. Omi's answer was a straight NO ; it had to be, isn't it ? - until professor continued:
....... I live in Delhi, have a son your age Rahul and my mother. She would be very happy ........"
"Delhi" - wasn't that was the place where Simi had gone. Omi's ears had turned blank to all other words that professor had said.
"Yes! I will go" - said Omi.
It is strange that how emotions sometimes becomes good of natural common thinking. It's strange what emotions do to people, sometimes to fight with the whole world and sometimes to destroy their own world which they have very meticulously created in the hope of something which they don't even know they will ever get. To put at stake all you have and start afresh for something you have an idea of believing in - Isn't that madness, perhaps not , may be it is love , but where's the difference.
The rising sun would bring a new tomorrow to Omi, one in which he won't have anything but a hope - a hope of which he had kept the flicker alive since 289 days - yes, he was still counting!
Little did they know, its the will which maketh a man and the boy did have it in abundance....
==============================================================================
Omi was performing one of his classic mimicry around the bonfire while Prof. Rakesh Vaidya was observing him from a distance, partially immersed in his thoughts of proving the old fort located at the top of the hill to a reminescence of national importance and partially intrigued by the boys antiques.
Professor had been a frequent visitor to the "Durg" as the locale would call it and had often halted at Omi's abode. A very mild spoken but an inquisitive mind, he had found striking similarity in Omi's dissonance of the world and his will and grasp of collecting knowledge. After all, that's what the professor had devoted his life to - collecting the lost knowledge of the unknown and in Omi's small library of sorts, he could find the same urge, miniaturised but still the same.
Professor could also sense that this small place would not contain Omi. He was far beyond this place. Soon his curiosity would grow out of what the occasional travellers could fulfill.
Soon the evening turned into a beautiful night, where one can just lie down on the slightly titled ground and marvel at hide and seek between the leaves of the pine trees and the stars in the sky. The infinite fabric of the universe sprinkled with the diamonds would leave most of the travellers from the cozy homes and multi-storeyed building in amazement and often feeling blessed to have stayed at Omi's place. He had cleaned the area around his house to accomodate travellers.
Omi took pains to go beyond the customary relationship one should have with his customers. The midnight coffee was something which Professor Rakesh always loved while he was reading his superfat book with buildings and designs in it. However, tonight was different.He was engrossed in some other thought.
Omi, without disturbing the chain of thought kept the coffee on the stone alongside professor, which with repeated usage had become flat enough to hold the mug. "Omi!" , the professor called out - The voice was always very familiar to Omi. After all only few people called him by his name his amma (grandmom) had given him. Om was something which amma continuously had on her lips out of her devotion to Lord Shiva, the supreme hindu deity. Hence Omi was a natural choice for her. But the travellers had named him chotu , pappu , and some of them also krisshh. However, Professor Vaidya always had called him "Omi" from the first time he had asked " What's your name, son ?"
"Haan, Professor Saab" - Omi retorted in a polite way. "I went through your library. You have a very good collection of sorts. It seems you have a keen interest in knowledge" - Professor asked Omi.Omi had learnt to understand english a little bit in the last couple of years, thanks to his grasping ability and the chain of foreigners who had become interested in the "Durg" of late.
Omi - " accha lagta hai aap sab se seekhna"
Professor - "Aur seekhna chahte ho ? Mere saath Shaher chaloge ?........
Of course not. Omi sure did want to learn but this was his home, with so many memories, so many people to meet everyday, the trees , the forest, the streams , as if everything conspiring for him to make it the best place in the world for him. He had known that people felt bliss in his abode and would he leave his heaven for an another world, which he had sketched from multiple voices to be a trecherous cruel world inflicted with trechery, restlessness and lack of peace. Didn't the travellers come here searching for the "Peace" and wasn't that the most import ant thing in life?. Omi's answer was a straight NO ; it had to be, isn't it ? - until professor continued:
....... I live in Delhi, have a son your age Rahul and my mother. She would be very happy ........"
"Delhi" - wasn't that was the place where Simi had gone. Omi's ears had turned blank to all other words that professor had said.
"Yes! I will go" - said Omi.
It is strange that how emotions sometimes becomes good of natural common thinking. It's strange what emotions do to people, sometimes to fight with the whole world and sometimes to destroy their own world which they have very meticulously created in the hope of something which they don't even know they will ever get. To put at stake all you have and start afresh for something you have an idea of believing in - Isn't that madness, perhaps not , may be it is love , but where's the difference.
The rising sun would bring a new tomorrow to Omi, one in which he won't have anything but a hope - a hope of which he had kept the flicker alive since 289 days - yes, he was still counting!
1 comment:
Omi's character is getting stronger....superb choice of words.
waiting to hear more.
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