Kartikey Sehgal

“How do you refuse your assailants? They are many, you are one. Kishore refuses the food. The group knows that Kishore knows.”

Now, readers. You know that Bihar is a dangerous State. It’s capital, Patna, is a dangerous city. Naturally—you must imagine—the interiors, the smaller towns and villages would be dangerous as well. The dangers extend to robbery and murder and a little bit of every type of crime. Little economic development, and the people have been eroded from their ancient philosophy; it’s like saying that the people have been taken away from religion. And as Mr. Gandhi, Mohandas Gandhi, had mentioned, dharma is an integral part of the nation, don’t take it away from the people.

This story takes place in some place in Bihar, near the UP-Bihar border. Kishore, a car driver, my interviewee, wants to go to his village for a holiday. Will he survive it again? The journey, will he survive the journey?

“I can take a bus. I think it will be safer. In the train, it might happen again”.

Last year, same time. Kishore is in the train as a group of people approach him. More Biharis and lots of familiarity; Bihari style of speaking; arre hum to keh rahe the na; replacement of main with hum. Then the sudden doubt.

Kishore looks at the group suspiciously. Merriment leaves him. He knows his turn will come; it has come. He too is offered the food.

How do you refuse your assailants? They are many, you are one. Kishore refuses the food. The group knows that Kishore knows. The neighbouring travellers will soon be asleep. But safe. They will lose all their belongings. In turn they are guaranteed their life.

Two bags and one Kishore. The sleeves fold up. Kishore is offered the food, again. He refuses, again. No patience for threats. Kishore is almost knocked out. The waiting time between the first blow and the next one is short but memorable. Kishore regained consciousness and went to the policewallas.

It is easy to casticize a nation, a community, a profession. I didn’t think that Kishore would have had a good time with the police. Then he mentioned the word, “beta”, aka son.

“The police offered me tea and took me to a hospital. I didn’t spend any money”.
”Beta, tere ko ghar pahunchva denge".
(Son, we will send you to your home)

Armed with a little money from the police people and without his two bags, Kishore boarded another train for his home, the village where he wanted to spend time with his family.

He slept. He was awakened by the ticket man. “He growled when I told him I had no ticket. Furious, and almost attacked. Then I showed him my arm”.

The policewallas had written in ink. Let this man through. He has been in trouble. Don’t bother about the ticket… signed and all, properly.

The ticket man’s toned changed. “Beta, chai peaga? Kuch khale”. (Son, will you have tea? Eat something.) All father like.

Kishore remembers that time as he bites into his vada pao. And he is smiling. He will take the journey again and we will wait for his return.

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