Dussehra for a Cycle Rickshaw wala

To get involved in or getting motivated by someone is a normal thing for any human being. But, in imbibing that level of comprehension, the thinking animal- the Homo sapiens, always use their cognitive faculty more than their affective or emotional ones. Exceptions are rare but not unavailable. Such an exception happened during the high day of Dussehra while I was travelling in a cycle rickshaw. The cycle rickshaw wala is the man who pulls the weight of the entire world, but, hardly gets an ear to his ‘knowledgeable’ verbal discourse. Many a time we ignore the fact that he is talking to us, while at times we lend just half an ear to satisfy his ego and our super-ego.

Honestly, the listening started in the latter form. But, very soon I was startled by the enormous amount of information he is throwing out both from his knowledge and experience. He was taking me through the congested streets of a residential area where we noted that on every junction a Ravan effigy was being mounted by the young residents (mainly) of the particular area, making it difficult for the cycle rickshaw wala to take his normal route to reach my destination (which was more of his, than mine now). At each point where Ravan was being mounted, he was shooed way; a very common scene of road rage against the suppressed lot of such rickshaw pullers. He tried to ignore the use of words on him by the residents each time and tried to engage me with his extra-ordinary knowledge in Ramayan. He explained that these effigies will be burnt in the evening, symbolizing the killing of Asur Raja Ravan by Lord Ram during the sunset time. The moment he understood that he got a patient listener behind him, he started narrating the entire Ramayan. At each junction, we were met with youngsters mounting the Ravan effigy, who were unnecessarily harassing the man and forcing him to change the direction. I could see the frustration and helplessness of a poor downtrodden man, who belongs to the bottom of the socio-economic strata of the Indian class-conscious society.

He kept on continuing the dictation of Ramayan, while he was busy changing the routes to avoid the Ravan effigies. And, then as if, it had to happen, the situation reached a dead end whereby in a junction all the three sides were blocked by mighty Lanka Raja Ravan. I had no other option than to get out of rickshaw. I handed him the full route money he had told me initially, though he refused accepting it at the first go, owing to the moral itch it has caused him in not making me reach my destination. While I was getting down and paying him, he told me that what they (read the rich brats who were mounting the effigies) were doing was one of the greatest sin. Lord Ram was rendered less effective after the killing of Ravan, since it was after all a Brahmhatya. Neither did I accept, nor did I reject his proposition. But, for time-being I nodded my head in accordance with him. He advised me to read Ramayan for a better understanding. Finally, parting ways, he gave the lesson of the lifetime. The self-centered, arrogant, supercilious behavior which these brats show on the people, who are perceived to be of no use, is the real Ravan which should actually be burnt away. Many a time, we are, what we are not. Moving away from him, I shouted, “What is your name?”. The reply came Ram Kumar!