Swarn Yatra

I think this was during the Durga Puja holidays while my first year of college. I was remarkably free. Without a shade of responsibilities, worries, obligations, timelines, deliverables. I didn't even know the last two words then. Then one day Mama came along. He was going to Punjab for business. Mixing his business with my pleasure seemed like a particularly good idea at the time. So without any hesitation I blatantly offered him my company. With even less hesitation he agreed. Off to Punjab.

It was a pleseant winter that year. Didn't bite. The train journey was a rude shock though. Mama didn't like to waste money on luxuries like first class. The fact that he could afford to have all the six berths in an AC coupe didn't carry any weight. Anyway, since I was a freeloader, who was I to complain. I just wrapped myself in the shawl ma gave me and kept up an expression of half-nasty, half-sombre throughout the journey. He was completely immune to such shenanigans and didn't give a damn. Mama always has been a Practical man.

Anyway, first port of call - Ludhiana. I don't remember much of that city. Except that I saw an awful lot of sports shops (I knew only three sports shops in Banaras). It also had tons of garment shops. Not surprising considering Ludhiana is well known for those two items. Soon enough Mama was in his elements meeting hard-boiled businesmen. I think his motto when it comes to Punjabi businessmen is - harder than thou. I kept gulping umpteen cups of tea and gaping at his prowess. There is a stereotype that Bengalis are fine in refined things and unwise business-wise. Mama was an exception. Anyway, I was quite tired of all this shop talk and couldn't wait to move on. Soon enough, we said tata to Ludhiana and arrived at Amritsar.

Amritsar felt different. I can't put my finger on the feeling. To put it crudely, it was less crude. There was something soft about that place. Maybe a bit quieter, or just plain nicer. We landed at one of Mama's main business dealers in Amritsar. They had a nice three storey house in a not too busy not too narrow lane. As usual, Mama was upto his business and I was upto nothing. Get up in morning and get freshened up, then a man would turn up from nowhere asking you to follow him for breakfast. No people around. Me and Mama ate, and when we felt like more helpings, the same guy turns up with more food. No questions asked. The smell of desi ghee lingers on for days. Within couple of hours of having a full meal, you start feeling a bit strange. Then you realise you are hungry again. So on for lunch and dinner. As usual Mama never noticed all these trivial matters and visited his "parties" with gusto to close his "deals". I ventured out during the day for a walk few times but after a while all the lanes started looking alike. Due to my inherent bravado and geographical talents, I promptly came back and went for a sleep.

On the third day, Mama was having a discussion with the owner of the business and I was sitting a bit behind him reading a newspaper. The owner was intrigued. He didn't know many helpers/assistants who read English newspaper - that too blatantly in front of the boss. Unable to contain himself, he asked Mama if I was a new recruit. Mama without batting an eyelid informed that I was his sister's son and immediately tried to resume business talk - but the damage was done by then. The owner was momentarily taken aback and then immediately extended both his hand towards me for a solid handshake. He openly regretted his assumption of me being a helper and inquired about my background, education and home town. The fact that I was in college and was doing quite well in studies impressed him - though it wasn't anything impressive in my opinion. Anyway, the lunch that day was unusual.

We were invited to have lunch with the owner and served in silver cutlery in their drawing room. That was where I first saw a huge-mega-size Sony tv (LCD panels were not invented yet). I was impressed. The owner introduced his family to us - he had a young daughter who must have been in 5th or 6th standard. She was very well-behaved and very talkative. I can't remember her name.  Once we had lunch, the owner asked his daughter to show me around. She enthusiastically rattled off places where she can demonstrate her knowledge of her hometown. However, it was almost evening and it was decided that I be taken to the nearest site. Golden Temple.

We set off for Golden Temple in a rickshaw. It was barely 10 minutes away - for the three days I was there, it was so close and I didn't have a clue. On our way, she kept chatting as a kid her age should and I kept listening as a chap my age should. Without much effort from my side, I was her pukka friend by then. We reached the temple entrance - I don't remember it particularly well. Then we went in.

The winter sun seemed tired and was done for the day. Small flocks of birds were flying recklessly - their shadows playing on an expanse of water in front of me. The gold of the Gurudwara was still glowing. The sounds of Gurbani washed over me - I didn't need to or cared to understand the language. My little friend kept filling me up on all the stories and facts of the temple. There was such a pure belief in her voice and in her eyes - certain belief that the day was good, there is a better day tomorrow and the saint in that sacred temple will always take care of us. We sat near the water and I saw schools of giant fish peacefully swimming around. They slowly swam to us expecting to be fed - they didn't have any fear either. With the same lingering pace, the evening kept floating away leaving shadows and reflections. And I kept feeling a sharp sadness - it was time to go. That was my last day in Amritsar.

I don't know where my friend is today, what she is doing right now? Maybe married with kids, maybe a successful business woman handling her family business or maybe somewhere in a land far far away thinking about her home, the lanes, silver cutlery, Golden temple. Does she remember me? who knows.