A Free Ticket Boy…

By Het Pandya

It was already 17:00, Ahmedabad bus stand, chaotic as always, waiting for a bus to Home-Town!...The scene was based on summer evening air, honking buses, murmuring passengers, musty smell of diesel and wearily sweating me.But the worst was about to happen...I just heard the announcement that the last direct bus was cancelled. Frustration simmered and I reasoned that the only option left was to take a bus to a nearby city and switch from there, waiting for another ride was not worth it. I boarded the bus and was very furious as it would take like 5 hours to reach there plus another 1 hr ride to home, and getting the bus at 24:00, argh….

I was just so tired and even the bus was rickety “LOCAL”, so don’t let me start on the condition and the passengers!! The vinyl covered seats, grimy windows offered no relief. As the bus crawled out with the traffic noise and cliched crying of baby..It took 1 hour to get out of the City. At the last stop, A lady in her mid-forties entered with a boy in to. I barely paid attention I was already in cacophony with the incessant chatter around me. Seeking Solace, I made myself busy with a book of Swami Vivekananda Biography, which I was reading at that time, and was less attentive to the other chatters. The peace was temporary and just a while, a sudden argument erupted.I noticed a lady’s sharp voice rose,  I glanced and it was the same woman arguing with an older man. Fragments of argument was about some cultural and cast-community based crap. My irritation spiked, it was just disturbing my reading, and hell, I was not there to hear about archaic hierarchies . I reached My Headphones opened my playlist, and tried to escape the reality... 

As I was in 3-seater bench, 2 voyagers came and sat beside me, which made the scenario worse by squeezing space. Longed the day to be OVER!! The silver lining: It was an IPL season and today was My favourite league match.I pulled out my Laptop, and got ahead with the Match ( I also Lowkey-ly felt soaring high, as everyone paid attention to me). Fast-forwarding 1 hr, the travellers beside me disembarked, I felt relief. Suddenly, A Boy slid beside me, and commenced to watch the game too. My focus was solely on the screen(but knew that he was the same, as I saw with The Lady). He asked me something, I kept my My-Headphones off and looked at his face....... 

Can’t say different but, not a regular teenager face.Though I lacked specific knowledge on Syndromes, his speech patterns and demeanour hinted at conditions. Now, My whole heed ‘pivoted’ towards him, ‘Saran’ gave me his intro, (also I discovered that he was 19 too), The guy was exuded a quite charm that drew me in. I was really into watching the match, but also wanted to be with him, not because he would feel inferior, but conversing with him was remarkably tranquil  !! Also told me that, he wasn’t A Big Fan of watching Cricket, but he loves to play, yup Playing!! I was enjoying his energy and the passion and will not lie, was a bit surprised tho (but Happy), as How He was living like every one of us !!!

 As Conversation deepened , He candidly shared that it was not easy to overcome his father’s and Grandfather’s Demise...I was stunned into silence, unable to fathom the strength. My gaze shifted towards his mother, seated few seats behind. Straight posture, Serene expression, seemed like the kind of person who quietly bore the weight of the world.

With no time, the first half of the match was finished, and the bus paused. From there it was still 1-1.5 hr of traveling left, but now I was enjoying the ride. The virtue, I liked most about Saran, was that He was full of Questions…about My Life, about My Career, about What he could do, How he could do...Each answer I gave was met with eager nods, and he jotted down notes in a small diary. His dedication and enthusiasm were humbling. At one instant, He asked me to make a promise not to tell anyone about the secret he was willing to share with me, I assented, The Secret was that He was traveling with a FREE-TICKET pass, and he was ashamed of that, I reassured him there is nothing to be ashamed and he replied that He knew he is a Special-Child as he studied in a Normal School and he was proud of it...I had no words for a reply and We both just Smiled!!

As the bus reached his stop, Saran’s mother called him and they departed too. I saw him from My Window, We both greeted each other A Goodbye and the bus left, I watched him and his mother till their disappearance (Duhh!! Metaphorically!!). A wave of admiration washed over me. I finished the game, left the bus and went to take another ride, and then The Surreal thoughts took place, I was awed by the mother, How She managed to bring 2 children, with One being A ‘Special’, without a partner.....Still, Today thinking about him, I just question, how some glitches, make a perfect man, A Special Child, Who is so pure and pious, without having any type of ‘Vikaar’, like Jealousy, hatred or any kind of ill thought towards any Beings.

The only thing that will always remind me, when thinking of Saran, is the poignant question asked by the late Mrs.Neela Satyanarayan in ‘One Full-One Half ’ about his son Chaitanya(who was suffering from Down’s Syndrome) “Why Do Normal People feel that They’re Complete and people like Chaitanya are Incomplete”, which is illicit at so many levels, as We are the One with Every ounce of insecurities possible....... 

Despite his condition, his enthusiasm for life was infectious. It wasn’t pity that made me want to talk to him—it was the calm joy

By Het Pandya