A Wise Man Once Said..

In the summer of 2022, during my bus journey from Amritsar to Manali, I had the privilege of observing a gracefully aged man who sat diagonally opposite my seat. As my playlist repeated for the umpteenth time and my attempts to stream new music were foiled by a patchy network, I found myself captivated by this man, who looked at least 65 years old or more. 

He wore reading glasses and read a Hindi book titled Raag Darbari by Shrilal Shukla with an intent and unhurried focus that was rare to see. His calmness was palpable, and his face bore the marks of a life lived with grace. The laughter lines on his face ran deeper than the wrinkles on his forehead. His skin was tanned, with a warm orange hue that hinted at long hours spent in the sun. 

So much about the man reminded me of my grandmother, Nani, who we lost a year after my dad's passing. She was an iron lady who raised three children with incredible strength and care. She worked as a teacher at a school and eventually became the principal there. No obstacle could wipe the smile off her face or deter her from her many journeys, as she perpetually lived out of a suitcase and traveled from one pilgrimage to the next. That little Scorpio cat!

As I continued to observe him, I couldn't help but be reminded of Hindustani classical music that I love so much. The title of the book, Raag Darbari, evoked memories of my father, who was a trained classical singer. He had tried to get my sister and me to take up singing as kids, but we never quite found our footing.

The man's expressions changed intermittently as he read, his face lighting up with amusement or furrowing with concentration. When the bus stopped for a short break, I saw him make his way to the tea stall next to the food court, and I followed suit, drawn by the aroma of ginger tea.

It was at the tea stall that I witnessed the man's gentle demeanor and heard him speak. He asked the shopkeeper if he could use a charging point for just a couple of minutes to make a call. I overheard him giving a trip update to his family, telling them that they would reach home in four hours and checking on the well-being of his children. 

This small interaction prompted me to check my phone, and I found messages from my mother, who was worried about my whereabouts. I brought out my phone and tried switching between 3G and 4G networks to get my network running. Found some and messages came pouring in. Mom wrote in one of them, "Beta, where are you? Please call."

I quickly dialed her number, she received the call within the first 5 seconds as if she was keenly waiting for a call. "Mom, I'll call you once I get to Manali. I have low network, and I'm safe. Please don't worry."I assured her.

 "I am rather surprised that you called in the middle of a journey. So unlike you to drop updates," she nagged in jest. I meekly laughed and felt slight guilt. Maybe I needed to be more careful about Mom's concern.

The bus manager, or whatever they call them, quickly called for us to board the bus so we could get on the move. I got on the bus. The sun had set, and it was starting to get cold. I brought out my jacket from my backpack and sat in my place. I saw the man get in his seat and put the book away. Within five minutes, he took off his reading glasses and fell into a deep slumber. 

Mere observation can do so much, I thought. It reminded me of how I want to read more, finally get myself to go on that hike I have been meaning to, call mom more often and also update her to put her concern away every time I am out and go missing too long. And more than anything, it reminded me of how I must live every single moment in absolute awareness of where I am in that very moment. To observe what is around me when I can. To make way for consciousness. What makes us human is the ability to be able to respond to things. Only actual observation and awareness can bring about a response! 

This ordinary act of observing the gracefully aged man on the bus reminded me of the importance of living in the present moment. It is easy to get lost in our thoughts or distracted by the constant buzz of technology, and as a result, we miss out on the reality that surrounds us. We forget to notice the small things. Aren't the little things, everything?

The ability to find joy in the mundane. To slow down and be mindful of our thoughts, emotions, and actions. Be more aware of the arising and passing of feelings!

To simply be present!

This man connoted so much and yet, this wise man did not have to say a thing.