IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 61- JAI HIND

“There is something off,” I told myself. But then, the cool breeze brushed against my face, distracting me with the first hint of the changing season. The plants swayed gently as if nodding a warm “hello” on my morning walk. As I reached the far end of the park, the lights in the park went off. The darkness pleasantly reminded me of night patrols from my army days. There’s a special kind of confidence that comes with slinging a weapon over your shoulder. In fact, I might have even welcomed a threat, if only to have an excuse to feel that familiar weight again.

I heard the peacocks calling out and I realized that I was early for the walk. The peacocks I feel make that noise when there is a sudden drop in the temperature in the morning which is around half past three. Looking at my watch, I realized that it was exactly that time. A good ninety minutes before my normal walk time. Waking up early has become a second nature because of life in fauj. But waking up this early can be blamed on my nocturia.

Anyway, I told myself that I should better utilise my time by chanting my prayers. Suddenly I could see an owl pounce on something ahead of me and flying away. I deduced that the victim must be a rat. Although I am supposed to be an ‘owl’ after passing Staff College, yet the reading of so many horror stories related to owls during my childhood made me a little nervous.  

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. Ab apni phati (Now I’m scared). Who could it be, at this ungodly hour? I didn’t dare look back, convincing myself it was just my imagination. But as the footsteps grew louder, my anxiety mounted. Every instinct screamed “run,” but then I calmed myself Jo hoga dekha jayega (Whatever happens, let it happen). Even if it’s a bhoot (ghost), I could probably land at least two good slaps on him in my struggle against him.

The steps drew nearer, and I mentally prepared myself for a bhoot-battle. Muscles tensed, heart racing… and then I heard, “Ram Ram ji.” Relief flooded through me—it was just an acquaintance from my daily walks. His “Ram Ram” was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and I replied with an even louder, more enthusiastic “Ram Ram Ji.” I almost told him he was ridiculously early, but then I realized maybe the universe had conspired to show me the soothing power of a Ram Ram.

After three rounds I sat down on a bench to do atmchintan. The question for me today was,"Do I have enough?" As I wandered through the corridors of my mind, I realized, yes—I’m blessed with plenty.

A little later when I resumed the walk I saw two men at a distance feeding stray dogs and  insects. A tiny voice in my head whispered, “You have enough, but do you give enough?”

 A dog came and licked my hand. I think it was mistaking me for another Sardar who is often seen feeding dogs with Glucose biscuits. The street lights started glowing again. 

I crossed a  Hindu gentleman  scattering grains for birds. He raised his hand to greet me with, ‘Sat Sri Akal’ and I reciprocated his gesture with a respectful ‘namaste’.  I noticed a Rolex watch on his wrist. Suddenly moh and maya swelled in me. Several questions raced through my mind. Was it the bird-feeding that made him rich? Would a Rolex magically appear on my wrist if I fed birds too?....?...?

As I partially shrugged off those thoughts, I was glad I had asked myself that “Do I have enough?” question in the dark—because if I’d asked it in daylight, the answer would’ve been a hard “No.” As I would have  compared my possessions with others.

It took me another fifteen hundred meters and five exchanged namastes with fellow walkers to shake off that moh maya completely off my head. I realized people are always their best selves in the early hours—more generous with greetings. By midday, salutations are often replaced with a few choice expletives.

The next person I said ‘Namaste’ to with folded hands reciprocated with just raised hand like the Congress symbol. My ego suggested I stop greeting him in the future as he, through his body language, tries to convey that he is superior. But my better self, reminded me, “Why care? By saying ‘Namaste,’ you’ve already acknowledged him as higher being.”

Funny, how we manage to bring hierarchy and ego into even the simplest gestures like greetings. Growing up in an army household, I was used to the so called  polished “Good Morning, uncle ” or “Good Evening, Auntie”. When my father left the army and joined a civilian project, “Good Morning” was replaced with the “Namaste,” and I initially found it earthy and unrefined. But soon enough, I picked it up and started liking it. Then, when I joined the Madras Regiment, “Namaste” became “Namaskaram.”

As I left the park, I wondered what my final salutation would be when I leave this world. After twenty steps of deep thought, I decided: “Jai Hind” would be the perfect last word on my lips.