One Journey, One Song, One Rafi Fan

I was twelve years old when I stepped into the Egmore railway station for the first time in my life — my destination Tirunelveli, and its nearby villages, where many of my grand aunts were settled. My paternal grandmother was my escort, and held my hands in her tight grip, while her eagle like eyes surveilled the crowd, as we were heading towards the reserved sleeper compartment in Nellai Express. We settled down in our seats comfortably, and polished off our dinner of tasty Tamarind rice and spiced curd rice, topped with a cup of hot milk.

My grandmother had made me wear a half saree. My grandmother’s constant warning of keeping the half saree in its respectful place kept me on tenterhooks, reminding me of my newly acquired teenage status. My thin child physique, hardly matched the new attire, which was more of a hindrance, rather than a show of tradition.

With the train thundering down the tracks, everyone was getting ready to sleep. I was thoroughly enjoying the out of the world experience — my face pressed against the windows, the wind sweeping my face, endless spaces rushing by, the lakes and rivers glistening under the radiant full moon light, I was entranced by the spectacular scenes unfolding before me, but my grandmother’s stern orders to get in to the bed made me leave my window seat reluctantly.

She wrapped me tightly in layers of bedsheets, covering my face with a towel. I am sure she was satisfied with her work to ensure about my safety, while I felt more like an Egyptian mummy in a cursed tomb. When the rocking motion of the train lulled me in to sleep finally, I dreamt of playing Pallankuzhi, Thayakattam etc (traditional indoor games) with my nieces and nephews, and having a dip in the serene Tamirabharani rivulet which ran right behind the village house.

The train halted midway, waking me up. There was an eerie silence, punctured by rhythmic snoring of fellow passengers. But soon a melodic song came on someone’s transistor calming my nerves and making me sit up. The train started moving, the mellifluous melody with a haunting voice continued while my eyes took in the rushing landscape. Amidst all the excitement, the three yard piece of chiffon material of the half saree vanished behind the layers of bedsheets without my knowledge.

A tight slap on my back from my grandma brought me back to my senses, which led me to a frantic search of my missing half saree. My grandma looking at the direction from which the song was playing, turned towards a man who was reading a book with his transistor on. With a Lalita Pawar look when my grandma blasted him in Tamil, his repartee in Hindi, made her change her tactics. In chaste Hindi she asked him to switch off the transistor as it was causing disturbance to fellow passengers.

That was the day Rafi’s captivating voice found an eternal place in my heart - the soothing background score of a chugging train and the fleeting images of a moon soaked landscape left an indelible mark in my memory. Even after six decades, whenever I listen to the song, it reminds me of this time and the captivating scenery from the train window.

The song: Film- Kala Bazar , oopar wala Jankar anjaan hai!

 

Dear Geetha,

Those times people were less aggressive- the journey went on without hassle till the end. My grandma was a courageous, outspoken woman- could deal with any amount of red flags.

Agatha83

 

Dear PS,

I know what a tedious journey it would have been, traveling all the way to Jamshedpur. You have come a long way in life, considering the hard work you have had to put in, to adapt yourself to a completely different kind of society, language and culture. Kudos to you.

Agatha83

 

Dear Viswa,

It was one of the most enjoyable train journey I ever had in my life. The village experience was totally new to me, what with people being very conservative. My super efficient grandma who was adept in taking bath in rivers, helped me to tie my skirt till the chest and then have a dip, as other women and children did. I wondered at the ease with which women had their morning bath in the river and then carry river water in a copper vessel to be used for cooking purposes.

It’s another matter that we in the city are doing the same thing even now, carrying water from tanker lorries and having a bath in just two mugs of water!

Agatha83

 

Dear HariLekhera,

I was just a 12 year old, when for the first time was hearing that song, neither knew the meaning of the lyrics, nor I have watched the movie in the past. Hindi films and songs was a rarity in Chennai and only after the screening of Aradhana, did Hindi movies found a passionate audience. It was only recently that I came to see the visual, thanks to you tube and high speed broadband internet. May be my grandma who was well versed in Hindi, knew the meaning of the song, and asked the co passenger who played the song through his transistor radio, asked him to shut it down!

Agatha83