“This year, Baba
you have to take me to the city for the pujas. You make promises and then leave
me behind. This time I will not take no for an answer,” said Shibu.
“Let us take the
boy along. Things aren’t going to change, money is always a problem. He is growing
up. I am getting old and it is difficult for me to
balance the heavy instrument.” said Haru, pulling hard at his biri.
Shibu was
grateful for his grandfather’s intervention. They were a family of sharecroppers
and barely managed to eke out a living. One of the highlights of the year was
the annual Durga Puja that gave them a chance to earn some extra money. A few years ago they had got a break in one
of the local towns and gradually managed to get a foothold to participate in
the big city.
“You will get to
eat food that you have not tasted before.
It is really and truly a festival, the city doesn’t sleep. Countless people, moving right through the
day and night, the lights, decorations.... ” Haru closed
his eyes and tried to remember it all. The glitter had dimmed but the memories
refused to fade away completely.
“City food
tastes so heavenly but there is so much else,” sighed Shibu.
“No! No”, winked
Haru, “The women both young and old, they look like film stars, wandering about
the city until the late hours of the night. Paradise must be shining with
celestial creatures like them.”
Of course the
city lights were a major attraction but more than that Shibu wanted to find out
firs thand about the music scene in the city. Though they didn’t own a
television, he had watched some of the music and reality television shows. It
was his secret ambition to become a well known musician. He didn’t want to end
up in a forsaken village, playing the drums, the dhak only at festivals.
Shibu’s
enthusiasm knew no bounds. His head was always filled with a combo of rhythms,
the traditional interspersed with some new ones. Improvisations weren’t encouraged in
villages, more so by the old folk.
Two days before they
were to leave for the city, the dhaks, drums that were used for ceremonial
occasions were readied, cleaned, colourful covers stretched over them. The local deity’s blessings were invoked for
a safe trip.
Shibu knew that
he didn’t have a say, there was no harm in hoping. May be this time Debu would
give into their request. After much talk, a half- hearted Debu agreed to the
old man’s proposal. Debu wasn’t feeling too good after a bout of chills and
fever. Drum playing required high energy
levels. Right now he didn’t feel up to the task and the young lad would be an
extra hand.
“You are looking
better,” said Haru. “Once we set foot in the city, you will be as good as new.
We need the extra money. The roof is leaking. It won’t last another monsoon.
Let us take it step by step. Shibu will be a willing help.”
Finally all
three of them set out to earn their fortune. The journey wasn’t very long but
for Shibu, it seemed endless.The coach was spilling over, passengers hung out
from the doors, the incessant noise and the rolling motions made his head ache.
They sighed with relief as the train entered Sealdah station. It wasn’t an easy task to balance the dhaks as
well as follow Haru through the never ending masses. Restless milling crowds encircled and pushed
them out to an open area. Shibu could hardly catch his breath as he took in the
scene.
Rapid, staccato
beats announced the presence of several dhakis. There was constant movement ,
people swept past, some stopped for a while to look and listen, others rushed
past hurriedly but neither the sounds nor the numbers ceased altogether. Shibu
noticed that there were several men and women who were clicking away on their
phones. A couple of local television
anchors were moving around interviewing onlookers.
“Dadu do you
think that last year’s organizers will hire us?” asked Shibu.
Haru settled himself on a nearby ledge, hoping
that the wait wouldn’t be too long. “Your father is trying to locate them.
Let’s hope he is successful and a deal is struck.”
Shibu noticed
that the dhakis would start playing loudly to attract business. May be Haru and he should also start playing
to get clients interested. Tired by the journey, Haru had dozed off and efforts
to wake him up were in vain. The station looked like a huge pulsating fairground,
there were hawkers selling toys, balloons, candy floss, pink, green and red
drinks in fluted bottles and ready to eat food. If the station had such a
variety to offer, how much more wonderful would the puja venues be?
Debu’s appearance with some food was the wake
up signal for Haru. While Shibu was eating; Debu was in a hurried consultation
with Haru and another man.
“Shibu, finish
your food. Go and have a drink of water from the tap. Look after my drum while
we are gone. Don’t move from this spot, otherwise you will be lost in this
maze. No matter how late it gets, I will come back for you. Hurry up don’t take
too much time to go around. We don’t have all the time in the world, “said
Debu.
Shibu dallied
for a bit, but fearing his father’s wrath, cut short his explorations.
“Remember to
look after the dhaks. Don’t wander off or you will be lost forever,” warned
Debu as he rushed off to seal the contract.
“Lost forever.”
Did his father think that he was incapable of looking after himself when boys
younger than him were running around, screaming, playing and also trying their
luck at begging?
Shibu settled
himself comfortably and saw that the number of dhakis was decreasing though the
footfalls were endless.
By now his surroundings appeared common place.
He tried chatting with some of the waifs who were loitering around. Dusk was
falling, the street lights were twinkling, Shibu was restless and a bit scared.
Hadn’t Debu keep track of time? The station compound wore a different look,
though neon signs were glittering, car lights were shining right in to his
eyes, there were long shadows that made him edgy. Why couldn’t they have taken him along? If
they had struck a deal, Haru and Debu might also be swigging away at the local
alcohol den. How long would he have to wait?
Nervous and
unsure, wanting to reassure himself, he touched the dhak lightly with the
drumsticks. He didn’t have the strength to carry and balance the dhak on his
shoulder, but he could play while it rested on the ground. Slowly but steadily
he started drumming. First it was the traditional beats and then his fingers
resonated to his own rhythms. The drumsticks were obeying his commands. He was
oblivious to the small crowd that had collected around him.
Feeling tired,
Shibu stopped and laid down the sticks. A curious audience had started
questioning him. ”Where are you going to perform? Have you come by yourself?
You don’t look strong enough to carry the dhak? “
The questions
unsettled the young boy as he looked around to see if Haru and Shibu were
making their way towards him. Out of nowhere, a young woman touched his
shoulder. Who in heavens was this? He
felt trapped. As the woman drew nearer he could hear voices tittering and
joking
“What is your
name? Where do you live? You look just like my younger brother,” she
questioned.
Shibu was lost
for words. He didn’t know anyone in the city. Definitely he had no sister who looked
like her. He was uncomfortable and his
ears were becoming red. He just shook his head to all her other queries. He
didn’t wish to speak to her and walk straight in to trouble. Not being able to get a word out of him, she
decided to leave him alone.
“I don’t mean to
harm you in any way but you won’t even utter a word. I am not going to swallow
you up. Are you so scared that you can’t even look at me? Every year, I come looking for my brother. He
was lost in this station. These sweets were for him, you can have them instead
of him. Don’t refuse this small gift,” she cried as she handed him the box.
A dumbfounded
Shibu was left holding the box. The people around him cheered while the woman
just melted away in the background.
A little further
away, a photographer with a video camera had been shooting away. He was happy
with the woman’s acting. “Well done. That boy was perfect for the situation. He
looked every inch the simple villager. The way he shook his head and blushed
was far better than any rehearsed dialogue. It was a clever move to have noticed
him. The best part is that he didn’t realize that he was on camera. Tomorrow we should be able to wrap up the episode.”
The entire
incident had been so unexpected that Shibu did the next best thing; he opened
the box of sweets. He was amazed to find
just two or three sweets in such a big box. City people were strange but
something was better than nothing.
A bearded,
middle aged man had been listening keenly to Shibu , he approached slowly , “
You play very well for a young lad. Has
your group been hired? Is this your
first visit for the Pujas?”
Shibu found it easier to answer the man and
soon an animated conversation had begun.
Shibu sensed his father’s presence and stopped mid track. The man
realised that he would have to change his approach as Debu’s eyes were on him.
“Are you this boy’s guardian? I can see you
are in a hurry. Spare me a minute?”
Debu didn’t want to lose any more time. It
hadn’t been easy to get hired.
“Shibu give me a
hand with the dhaks. The men are waiting for us in their van.”
“Yes, I am his
father. What do you want? I don’t have time to waste talking to strangers.”
“My name is
Vineet Kumar. Your son is talented enough to join my band of musicians. I am
doing a special show with dhakis and he could be one of the participants.”
Debu didn’t want
to respond to this offer. He was uneasy
about trusting strangers and that too of allowing his able bodied son to join a
group of unknown musicians.
Vineet Kumar knew that Debu might not be
convinced easily. Many of these
villagers were cash strapped and a small amount of money could make all the
difference.
“You don’t have
to decide immediately. Go ahead and carry out your Puja contract. Here is a
card with my name and phone number. If you are interested, contact me before
you leave the city. Don’t forget to meet me. Such an opportunity doesn’t come
often.”
Riding in the van, Shibu was dropping off with
exhaustion and could barely keep his eyes open. There was so much news he had
to share. As he leaned sleepily against
his grandfather’s shoulder, he heard Haru’s voice coming as if from faraway. “Debu,
once the pujas are over, we must get in touch with that man. This is Shibu’s
big chance. He doesn’t have to remain a sharecropper all his life. He can
become a musician not just a dhaki who only plays at festivals.”
The van’s
swaying movements, the long eventful day lulled Shibu to sleep. He smiled in
his dreams as he imagined the surprised look on Dadu’s face while hearing about
the beauty who gave him sweets and mistook him for her brother.
Five glorious
days of pageantry came to an end as the crowds made their way towards the river
for the immersion of the images. Leading the way were the dhakis, a note of
sadness and farewell resonated in their drumbeats. Shibu tried to take in all
the wonder and excitement that would remain with him for a long time.
Payments were
settled, promises for the next year made, a set of new clothes handed and the
dhakis were set to leave. Shibu nudged his father,” Baba, where is the card
that the ustad gave you? We need to call him. Don’t you remember what he said?
He will give me a chance.”
Debu rummaged in
the bag, emptied out his pockets but the card had vanished in to thin air. No amount of looking around did the magic
trick. Tears streamed down Shibu’s face, he couldn’t speak and stared blankly
at his father.
“I didn’t mean
to but it’s lost. Don’t cry, may be you will be luckier next year” Debu replied
gruffly.
“Do you remember
the man’s name?’ asked Haru.
Shibu dried his tears,”
How should I know his name? He was speaking to both of you.”
Haru had seen the disappointment on his
grandson’s face. The boy was gifted he would benefit being trained by an
established musician.
“I will ask the
puja organisers to enquire. I am sure they will be able to find out. Debu can give his mobile number
to these people. Aren’t you always singing about the wonders of mobile phones?
I am sure you will meet the ustad.”
Vineet Kumar
stood at the station entrance, his practised eyes scanning for gullible victims
among the swirling crowds. Almost every day there were young runaways looking
for better prospects, hopes of fame and fortune and more often than not an
escape from terror, hunger and poverty. Some days business was bad but chances
were always better in crowded areas though today there were too many cops
around.
As they waited
at the station platform, Shibu hoped that his grandfather’s words would come
true. He had come close to realising his dream. As they were boarding the
train, Shibu heard a woman say, “Doesn’t that young drummer look like the one
we saw on the television.”
He resembled someone on television? A smile lit Shibu’s face, life didn’t appear
so bleak, and the future held many possibilities.
