From Darkness To Light

The aircraft prepared to descend to land at Bengaluru's Kempegowda International Airport. Looking eagerly out of the window, Ajit Hegde had mixed feelings on seeing the city of his birth. He now lived in the United States having gone there as a kid of six months since his father was a software engineer in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He was excited about seeing his grandparents as only a kid of 10 can be, but he wasn't sure what India would be like. Friends at school who had visited had told him stories full of contradictions. They spoke of the wealth of the billionaires and their life style which was better than most people enjoyed in the United States. Also of the filth in the streets of Bengaluru. "Get used to darkness. The lights don't work half the time," said one. "Haven't you heard of their power cuts? Things that you take for granted here just don't work there."

The Hegdes had planned this trip for long. Ajit had hoped that their visit would coincide with Diwali, a festival he loved even though he had no personal experience of it. He only remembered the stories his grandparents had told him about the fire crackers, the illuminations, and how Lord Rama, the embodiment of good, had triumphed over the evil. He was disappointed that their India trip wasn't during Diwali but at least they were going.

Unusually for them, the Hegdes were making a trip to India after seven years. Ajit's parents, Ramesh and Malathi had been too caught up in their work. So this was one vacation the whole family looked forward to most keenly.

 All through the long flight which had a stopover at London, Ajit thought of what Bengaluru would be like. He didn't have any memories of their last visit. His grandparents had visited them in the US three years ago. His Dad's father was a gentle old man who always told him stories. He also remembered his grandma with her dimpled smile and soft hands which had patted him to sleep on innumerable occasions when he was younger.

For much of the flight he read the version of the ancient epic "The Ramayana" written specially for children. This epic they said, had been written by the sage Valmiki in the 4th or 5th century BC. Oh, wow! That was a long, long time ago, thought Ajit. He wondered what they wrote with in those days. Today he read it off his iPad as the Airbus 320 hurtled hundreds of passengers like him from one continent to another. He completed the chapter he was reading and put away the iPad. He wondered what he would ask for if he was given three boons like Kaikeyi in the epic.

As each flight arrived, the long line of taxi cabs inched forward to ferry the passengers arriving at Bengaluru from different countries.

Pasha was one of the many drivers in that queue. He had fever and a bad cough for the last two days but he couldn't take time off from his work. He didn't own the cab, he merely drove it for a livelihood. Of course he prayed that he would own his cab one day but that day seemed so far away. Healthy or sick, summer or winter, rain or sunshine he had to work every day of the year. If he didn't put bread on the table, there was no one else who could in his family.

Contrary to popular perception amongst many about Muslims, Pasha didn't have four wives and a dozen children. His wife Tasneem and he had only one child, a daughter called Shabnam now 12. They had decided long ago that they would have just one child to give her a life better than their own. Tasneem's biggest regret was that she was relatively uneducated, "I could have done so much had I been sent to school but Abba had eight other children to care for. Besides they never considered it necessary to educate a girl child. Her job was to get married, have children and look after her home and family. I want Shabnam to speak English and become a Government officer. Now a days it looks as if more people know English than any other language in Bengaluru. Abbas says they have special schools to teach people to pronounce words correctly. Can you imagine that?" Pasha replied, "Let our finances improve. We have just paid a hefty amount for Shabnam's school fees. When we do better, I'll enrol you in a course to learn English. Then you can work as a sales girl or a shop assistant. I know you have wanted to do this for long."