Curd Rice

I was terribly irritated. Who wouldn’t? The train from Mumbai to Bangalore was late, believe it or not, by over 4 hours and I was not even halfway through. The grueling journey had taken its toll on me. When the train came to a halt once again, this time around, fortunately, it was a station and not some godforsaken place where the mosquitoes pounce on you, I got up and looked around. It was Guntakal Junction.  

The minute I read the board, my mind raced back to another era and another delayed train, the pain and hunger followed by the happiness that descended on me can still make the hairs on hands stand! Like flashback in a movie, my mind raced to that incident – still fresh in my memory and taste buds.

During those days, one had to change the train either at Guntakal or Miraj junctions as there was no direct train to Bangalore from Bombay (now Mumbai), as it was called then. Cursing the traffic jam which made me almost miss the train to Bangalore, I strode on the platform, entered the compartment and looked for my seat. 

Once I sat down, I realized that in my hurry to catch the train, I forgot to bring the bag containing eatables. Scolding my absent-mindedness, I consoled myself that I can always buy something on the way. There are plenty of stations on the way and most importantly, the train has to be changed at Guntakal anyway, I thought. So I just decided to relax and opened the book which I was planning for quite some time to read and got immersed in it.  

The time went by and I was so engrossed in my reading, I was oblivious to what was happening around me. Suddenly, the voice levels in the compartment went up several notches and this made me close my book and look around. What transpired made me feel dejected; it appeared that there was some unspecified problem ahead and hence, the train was getting delayed by about 4 or 5 hours!

The scene that followed was right out a movie on a partition of the ‘40s! Every time the train managed to enter a station, people jumped, pushing anyone who came on their way, and ransacked the shops on the platform and grabbed anything and everything that they could get their hands on! How hunger can bring so much of brutality in an otherwise normal human being was evident on that day.

I tried getting down in one of the stations that passed by and found that the entire platform was empty! News must have traveled in advance and fearing the unruly crowd, the shoppers downed their shutters and fled, leaving hapless persons like me hungry; it must be close to 12 hours that I was traveling without food and water. Those who stole the food in the earlier stations either ate or hid them fearing that someone might ask or better, steal it!

So, when finally, the train came to a halt at Guntakal Junction it was close to 11 at night. Adding insult to the injury was the announcement that the train from Guntakal to Bangalore has already left and the next available train would leave Guntakal only at 6 in the morning!

I simply left the quarreling and shouting people on the platform and went out of station thinking that I might chance upon a hotel or an eatery, though, the chances looked bleak. 

Guntakal was a very small town then (it has remained very small even now) and other than being a junction, there was nothing to write home about. So, my journey around the town ended earlier than I anticipated and yes, there was nothing to eat as all the shops, whatever there, were all shut.

Exasperated, I started walking back to the station at least to find a place to unwind till morning - and tried to ignore the rumblings in my stomach - when I noticed a small hut converted to a hotel. When I went close by I found that it was indeed a hotel, though shabby, ugly and even smelly, my heart jumped up in joy. I found a man readying a cot outside the hut obviously to sleep and it was evident that the so-called, hotel too was closed.

Mustering courage, I asked the man in my broken Telugu whether I can get something to eat as I was very hungry. I narrated my sad story of the day and the pain I have gone through and hoped the man would melt and provide me something to eat, but I was wrong. The man informed me an emotionless voice as if he did not hear a word of what I said, that everything is closed and motioned me to get lost! I was desperate and virtually begged the man and told him that the price is not a criterion as long as I can get something to eat. The man did not budge; instead, he simply got ready to sleep. 

Crestfallen, I started walking away slowly when I heard a female voice telling me to stop. Obviously, it was the lady of the house! She called her husband who very reluctantly went inside cursing me loudly. When he came back, he informed me that his wife will cook some rice especially for me and other than some curd; there was nothing else to eat the rice with. I heaved a sigh of relief and before the man could change his mind, agreed and sat down on the cot while the man, still cursing loudly, went inside to help his wife.

It did not take too long before the man brought piping hot rice in a bowl and thick curd along with some Andhra pickles!   Without a second thought, I simply went ahead and ate everything, including half a jar of pickles, while the man kept looking at me in astonishment! I just cannot define my feeling of happiness of eating that curd rice; words cannot describe the emotions I felt. It was just out of this world! I was never that hungry in all my life and the poor family which provided me food that night were richer than anyone I have met in my life. 

I washed my hands from the water mug handed over by the man. Wiping my hands, I removed my purse and asked him how much I owe him; the man looked at my bulging wallet and asked me to pay Rs.500. Without even blinking, I handed over the money and profusely thanked him. As I was about to leave, I heard the woman’s voice once again, calling her husband. The man gestured me to wait and went inside the hut. I presumed that the money I paid could be less compared to the trouble the lady undertook and was ready to shell out more.

I could only hear the heated arguments inside the hut, but could not make out the meaning thereof. 

Finally, the lady came out of the house clutching the money I gave it to the man and bowing in front me said, “Sir, we are poor and the money you have so generously given to my husband is more than equal to the money we earn in a month! But that man – indicating to her husband – is an idiot and a very greedy person; he is crazy about money. Throughout the day, we get lots of customers but very rarely we get guests; guests are like God! You were hungry and came looking for food in a small hut of ours. God will not forgive me if I take money for the food I gave you. Please, take this money back and bless me and my children.” She thrust the money in my hand bowed in front of me and even before I could open my mouth, went inside the hut.

I stood there speechless!