CHAPTER SEVEN - SUMMER AND SOMEONE AND JAMUN...

Do you want Jamun..? ‘Someone’ is asking..

Sometimes we meet ‘someone’ and keep thinking about the same person. More the relationship gets deeper longer it hurts during separation. It’s normal to fall in the lake of relationship and later on face the ripples of memories. What is abnormal is, I know someone whom I never Met or conversed with but still I am being touched. I feel something is left. What relation is this…?

I have eaten many Jamun [Black plums/Indian black berries], which are seen during the summer season as a kid. Purple tongue and lips that was the after effect of the small sweet fruit, I still remember, with the purple tongue we used to frighten others. Somehow I came across the Jamun sellers this summer and they became. ‘Someone’ for me.

When I roamed out of City [Mumbai] I saw many women who sell Jamun and karvand [wild berry/small black fruit] near Karjat, Kasara, Lonavala [Places near Mumbai]. Black faces with wrinkles and typical Adivasi dresses without footwear. They looked as if they have not had bath since a week. Wearing big rings in the nose, traditional jewelleries and dry hair I doubt whether they know about hair oil. Those women keep looking at each person/passenger to sell their fruits. Sitting whole day on the platform holding a fruit basket and swatting flies/mosquitoes they run towards the windows when the mail arrives. I kept looking at those women, where do they come from? What exactly are they doing with their life? Few of them also carry bunch of leaves and reach to Dadar [In Mumbai] early morning by catching the fast train. When I vaguely calculate the amount, which they earn at the end of the day, I found it less than what I spend on the chay[Tea]/coffees.

Unknown places, Unknown people but what is not unknown is feelings. That's the identity of a human being. Of course right vision and a lot of struggle is must to accomplish goals... but the question is those women even don't know about it. Their illiteracy and innocence touched me... I don't know why and how they became someone for me? Summer is too hot, and Jamun is a sweet fruit, which refreshes and changes mood with a colorful tongue. Is that Jamun seller’s life as colorful...? I don't have an answer.

What I have or what I imagine is, suddenly sparrows are flying away from the station, because the mail blows its horn before entering the station. The women are picking up their fruit baskets and taking their position while the train enters.
Do you want Jamun?. My someone is asking…..