Pandey

Not that I am much of an explorer, but a Rickshaw wallah who is caught between the devilish Neta and the deep sea of English is surely worth pointing out. And so it was that I met Ram Naik Pandey.

12 o clock off Vartak Nagar, and there was nothing worth riding except the whores. And they got you off, not anywhere. And my belly was full of booze juice. A walk. Long, poetic, only a big trench coat and a tiny cigarette was..... shit. No cigarette. cigarettes! and it was 12:00! This alley, that alley, corner over there, corner over here, but nope. No little kiosk with fellers perched on knife edge planes. I had no friend in the world, and the piles of rotten bananas, rice, paper, dog-shit, cow-dung, rubble - puffed its underbelly at me. See something long enough, and you start classifying it, hence the several names of Garbage, and the several names of God, in India. But where was I? No pondering cigarette. Thank god there were some at home.

Then Pandey. One last try at a rickshaw. After that I walk it. The sodium vapour lamps were on anyways. And who was gonna rape me? But Pandey had other ideas. Hands on the bars, neck on the rickshaw flap, head the size of a fist. The moustache twitched. 'Soddhachal' I managed. The eye squinted. 'Arey Siddhachal' 'Kya, seedha chaloon?' 'Arey nahi yaar....Sidhddhdhdhachal. got it?' Yeah. Point being seedha chal means go straight... ah fuck it whats the point, the jokes gone.
So I bunch up in the rickshaw, leaning out once in a while to get the Yeoor hill's brush stroke on the blue night. Woah bhai kaise ho? Haaan theek hoon yaar.

It was December, right, so I dissolved in lovely cold wind. Twelve midnight was biting my lips. I grinned widely, snuggling into the Rickshaw's side and scissoring my legs on the seat. It is called sukh aasan or something. Relax aasan? Damn its slipped.
Upvan lake filled itself out in my eyes as we raced past the best stretch in Thane district for hitting hundred on the bike. My friend skid there and was never the same again. Remembering it whacked my brain back and I felt ever so slightly sick. Now or never, be firm in these matters Karthik. Puke....vomit......retch. Pandey looked back and I snarled at him to keep on the road.
When we finally got back to the garden entrance of my apartment, a gul-mohar glared at me in the vapour lamplight. Pandey started saddling me on his shoulders, but I was good by now. ‘Thank you, saab.’

He went on for a solid five minutes about his duties, I tried to catch it all before I realized it was Hindi and of no use for me. I gathered it was all he could do, to do ‘sampark’ with people in need for a ride, however late.

I don’t quite know how the conversation got to his children, but I think I reminded him of his elder son or something. Then he told me about his younger son. This was getting to be weird. He wanted advice from a good high society fellow. High society – thane? Lol. I gave it a shot, though how he asked advice of a drunk….

Basically, his son was in an Hindi medium school and had admission in an English medium convent. Problem was donations. Another scratch was his brothers in law (they had made one wide move from U.P, Pandey and co). The brothers went into distinguished positions in dirty politics, while Pandey preferred an autorickshaw. Now, to get his son into the school, he wanted money. The brothers had it. But, the brothers wanted the kid to join them once he had whiskers. But, Pandey wanted his son in English precisely so that he would never, ever have to go near his out-laws. So, what should he do? I took an admiring look at this paradox.

I wasn’t even close to a solution, but I spoke on the merits of English medium, in Hindi, dusting, excavating every word. Loans? Can’t realistically pay it off. Um….scholarship? He would check. I gave him ten rupees extra to get the kid started.. He told me to take his number down – I mean, rickshaw number, and call him if I ever needed some muscle.

He offered other things, but I just kept remembering Vasant off the tea shop nearby who offered drugs he never did himself.