The fables of the one legged rider - Style

It is early hours if the morning, with a slight mist in the air. It is the month of january in a north Indian city, and those of us who have witnessed it, this was no time to be outside the warmth of one's bed.

A lonely auto-rickshaw, the only means of communication that available at this hour, was moving briskly along a clean, smooth and deserted road. One side of the road was the state university, silent and huge. On the other side were the houses of people who could easily be classified in the upper strata of the city, with multiple sedans standing in the open parkings that people prefer in these regions. The houses themselves were nothing short of princely bungalows.

The rickshaw driver, after taking a few extremely sharp turns, that apart from scaring the wits out of the passenger, also managed to amaze him at his own competence, though he knew he would not have dared any such thing if the roads were not deserted; he reached the lane the passenger had asked him to move to, and with a few further directions from the passenger, they reached their destination.

The rider, handing the driver his promised Rs. 40, got his luggage down with amazement in his eyes. He was expecting a locked gate, instead he found his entire family coming out, ready to leave for somewhere he definately didnt know. His first reaction was of shock, and worry, because it was quite uncharacterstic of everybody to be up together so early, but a close look at their merry faces had told him that nothing was wrong, but then, where were the headed?

He soon find out, that he happend to drop back home, at one of the Holy days, and everyone was headed to the nearby temple. Not to much of a relegious person, the rider weighed whether to go along or not, and finally decided too, just to be with everybody.

With continous chit - chat on the way, the rider moved inside the temple feeling it was a little too close to their place. All of them entered the magnanimous campus, most with their hands folded.

A special prayer had been organized by the Pujari Ji, and there were quite a few people present to attend it. Not being a very relegious person himself, with a much greater belief in science, which automatically contrasted with relegion, the rider soon lost interest in the prayer. The fact that he didnt understand much of it for it being in sanskrit might have added to hi disinterest. He started off with his favorite activity of observing others.

The group consisted of all kinds of people, of different backgrounds, age groups etc.
There was a mother holding a small baby in her lap, sitting in her corner. The baby seemed to be awake but peaceful, the mother smiling. A small lean kid, was moving around the campus, lost in his own merriness, and could not have cared less. There were old men and women, in their sixties and seventies, mostly retired, with grey hair, and lost in memories. Then there were not so old people, working men, women, housewifes, incharge of their households, all dressed smartly. There were also a few younsters, like our rider, some a little disinterested, others greatly devout. This was as vivid an assortment of people as any.

While the "pujari ji"'s prayers were about to come to an end, a few regulars at the temple went about distributing a few musical instruments, a "dholak" etc. A typical indian instrument, two metal plates tied together with a string which gave a distinct ding on striking upon each other, was in such abundance that within minutes, almost everyone had one.

By the time the prayers were over, the man siting with the dholak started playing it, and singing a popular hymn which was known to everybody in the country. Moments later, he was joined by a couple of ding sounds. Soon, a few other joined the chorus of the hymn. Withing minutes, everyone was in on it.

The rider, could beleive the effect the symphony was having on him. Although he didn't have any intentions to, he couldn't stop himslef from joining in with one of those instruments.

The rider thought to himslef, once the hymn was over, that what amazing effect it had had on everyone around. The baby was smiling wildly in his mother's lap, the kid was also looking at the deitie's idol, inspired it seemed. All the other grown ups, which the rider felt included him, were so relieved of all their worries, problems, issues, everything, by merely being able to come together in such a fashion.

With the proceedings over, he started walking back towards outside, amazed. He suddenly remembered that he was limping, the limp being much more pronounced than in later years, as the wound was still quite fresh. It is then that he realized, that astonishingly, he hadn't even remebered his pain during the hymn.

He wondered at the power it had possesed, turned back, looked straight towards the idols, and said in his mind," Kuch bhi kaho boss, maan gaye, Style to hai aap me!"

And with this new definition of style in his mind, along with his family, he rode on!!