Bombay Unplugged

Happy Birthday .

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Chapter 2

" As soon as I saw the man collapse and fall on the railway tracks , I rushed to his safety . It was too late by then , his head bleeding , body cold , limbs broken . All he said was " Beti ka Budday tha aaj " , and there he went . "

3:30 AM sharp , the hen clucked , resting itself on a raised platform in the very centre of Mumbai's largest chawl as though she were making a public announcement . For a brief 10 seconds everything was as still as could be , but the next 10 seconds were a contrast . From pitch darkness to bright illumination , from isolated corridors to overcrowded public urinals and from hush silence to high pitched noise . Crowds of people , probably the entire chawl awoke in one cluck of the queen and got busy in stacking sachets , packing bags , cleansing vehicles and hurriedly ; leaving . It was 3:45 AM , some were still struggling to wake up , but where were all the others heading towards ? What was the occasion that day ? Dharavi indeed transformed in these ten brief minutes while I awaited my friend who felt the sudden urge to attend to nature's calls . Through the effortlessness with which these men and women performed their daily chores , I was ascertained of the fact that this was a far long continued ritual and not a special custom . Dharavi indeed woke up before other parts of the city .

No digital alarms , no wake up sirens , only a cluck . No hurriedness , no race , only still systematic movement . No lazy morning yawns , no grumpiness , only quick activity ; simple yet complex yet simple .

Amidst this systemised commotion , was a man , busy stacking transparent plastic sachets of milk . He had ample amount of them and had this fascinating procedure of folding them . He seemed quite the lad for the job . For the next 400-500 seconds , the man as though had blinkers on , neither looked right nor left , stared straight down at the sachets and kept folding them as hurriedly as he could . Following this routined process , he stacked all the sachets in a basket and washed them off their dirt under cold running water . As he switched the tap of the ground level on , due to the malfunctioning in the pipelines , the water flow at the urinal of the second floor saw a cut , and this was followed by a simultaneous " Abbey chhapri , nul band Kar , Packet kidhar aur Dho " . Consequently , chhapri replied " Aaj load Zyada hai , kamaana hai , beti Ka budday hai  , bas 2 minute " . How on the face of the planet did they know the cause of the cut in the flow of water was the very man and how on earth did he know that all the sudden nags of anger were directed at him ? Simple , yet complex , yet simple .
Either ways , he commenced his journey carrying the enormous basket on his head . The past ten minutes of the mans life indeed intrigued me and I saw myself getting off the air conditioned , leather seated car and following the man in the open as I was a movie maker and i , I saw a movie in this man . He was walking quite hastily and although he was the one carrying weights , I was the one trying to cope up with his pace .  We walked the better of half an hour to finally reach Sion Station . The man so generically alert and spontaneous , fell on the ground all of a sudden . The few passengers around him paused , supported him till he stood straight and then resumed their own voyages . Each and everyone at this time , the early birds were all in a certain hurry as though every second was to be accounted for . Chhapri stacked all his sachets once again and was frustrated at himself due to the mishap . I later realised , he fell in order to dodge a lemon and chilly which was considered a bad omen in his faith . Religiously , he commenced all over again and walked down the usual platform 4 . It was central railways , there was hardly place to sit in the train even at 4 hours past midnight . Wondering how the gigantic basket even fit through the narrow doors of the Coach , it came to my understanding that many such baskets and their owners were on board the very train . All of them though , were not exactly affectionate towards each other but neither were they hostile . They'd help a fellow man stack sachets but not help him get on board the train . Simple , yet complex , yet simple . He had this predominant glim on his face and his fellow milkmen asked him why was so . He replied with a big smile " Chhoti beti Ka budday hai , aaj bade jor se kaam karenge . " His fellows and he were the source of fresh milk and dairy products in every household across the financial capital of the country . As planned and predictable , trains were to be switched at dadar and all the milkmen , competing with each other stumbled out of the running train and jolted past the unclean stairway . We crossed a bridge and turned towards the Western Railway , the more civilised version of the central .  There was an abrupt announcement , notifying the commuters of the change in platform of arrival of the 4:52 AM Churchgate Virar Fast . The milkmen , already envious of each other's successes would kill to reach the other side of the platform before the rest . And then I witnessed something I wish I didn't . Men , humans ready to tear apart each other to win a race to the other side . Men , inevitably inculcated to beat the rest . Men , pushing , dragging , running across the skywalk and climbing down stairs with those heavy baskets oblivious of the damage they caused . In the process of this havoc , the pillars of the skywalk , rusted and weak anyway , began to stumble . In the process , a stray dog on the very skywalk was squashed amidst merciless human competition . In the process , the bridge gave up , it collapsed . The train had entered the station , the milkmen had reached the platform , safely . However , one of them , Chhapri , had abruptly fallen while trying to save the stray dog from the selfish clutches of humanity , however ; he failed . The bridge collapsed , and so did Chhapri . " One reported casualty " stated the media . Everytime this article was broadcasted , my mind baffled , and chills paced down my spine . What had he done ? Be a human ? Put a needy's needs over his ? Not give into the shallow clutches of human jealousy ? Where was the man even wrong ? But what hurt me deeper than the incident was that the man , alert and spontaneous fell only twice in his journey . Once , to follow his faith , second time , to be a human . The predominant values we're taught as toddlers are the very reasons that pull us down ?
Are they ?

The milkmen boarded the train . They reached Virar . They poured milk in their sachets . They went door-to-door earning profits in order to become rich . One who was rich in values had aboded his spiritual journey . Simple , yet complex , yet simple . Life went on , Mumbai was served with its dairy requirements . Kabir Baba was served his full glass of milk . At the same time , a family was stripped off its livelihood . A man , his life .
Where had life reached ? I wondered . Men competing with each other over frivolous profits . Humans ready to kill , only to reach first .
As soon as I saw the man collapse and fall on the railway tracks , I rushed to his safety . It was too late by then , his head bleeding , body cold , limbs broken . All he said was " Beti ka Budday tha aaj " , and there he went .
It all happened so fast , I was in a trance . His body was taken to a general hospital , declared dead there and the family was informed . The wife and 3 daughters arrived , cried , shattered to bits , left . They could not even afford a funeral . However , the chawl was generous , they chipped in to bid farewell to one of their very own . Fun fact , I remembered the milkmen , and all of them attended the procession , every one of them . This series of events really really intrigued me . People who shouted at him and nagged him , even abused him only because he cut the water supply for a mere 30 seconds , contributed generously to arrange for a funeral which was attended by the very people who did not even look back for a tad when one of their own lay dead on the tracks due to the unnecessary but dominant rat race that they were consciously / Sub consciously a part of . I saw the daughters cry their lungs out , the youngest one almost threw herself in the fire . Well , "Happy Birthday . "