You probably read about my hitchhike (lift) giving behavior last time around. This time it is slightly different though. Hehe.
Last week, because of some personal urgency, I had to ride to my hometown. My motorbike, yeah, the best thing, when the urgent travel beckons. Nepalese monsoon, not so best, especially when you are in ‘middleclass trap’ and can not immediately afford a four-wheeler. I am one such ‘trapped’ middleclass man, having his own middleclass deprivations and inability to fulfill, not so necessary necessities.
So I was travelling from Kathmandu to Itahari, a Sub metropolitan city in South East Nepal. I stopped by at Ramesh’s place in Rampur, Udaypur. (Ramesh is one of my closest friends since the Engineering days and these days he is stationed at Rampur, across Sapta Koshi River and merely a one hour drive in Motorbike from my Home town).
While I was bidding him adieu, he requested me why not wait little more, have a cup of tea and wait for the sky to clear further. Monsoon, you see, it was drizzling a bit. But, you know me already, once this dude has made up his mind, very rarely and hardly any force can circumvent it. Trust me, this has landed me into a lot of difficult situations. But that’s me, haha, can’t blame any one.
So, I began my short journey, listening the podcast about Sophocles and Antigone, one of his famous tragedies. And wow, the trip from Udaypur across the great Koshi river (Till Nadaha, Baraha Municipality) is one beautiful ride. The highway, just so smooth, both sides flooded with lush green, sometimes even some parts of char koshe jhaadi (forest) afresh from last night’s rain and most importantly not littered by heavy honking, logistics supplying ten-wheeler maalgadis and deeply annoying, good-for-nothing young motor-bikers.
Just five minutes and I see an old Nepalese man, probably in his Seventies, walking into woods, flaunting his lahure umbrella and Dhaaka topi atop his head. Struck by no particular idea, I stopped few meters in front of him and looking in his direction I opened my mouth,
“Wanna ride, old man? I could be a real good travelling companion you’ll never know. Where you up to? “
He barely spoke; deaf probably. Old age, see. That’s the reason I hate being old this very soon.
“He’s probably going to see his shopkeeper son, in Jhumka”, answered a fellow passerby in the road.
So now I had a riding partner now. Playlist changes in my mobile. No more philosophies now, some rock music babe. Sweet Child O’ mine, yeah that sound great.
While revving the accelerator, I used to take quick glances in my looking glass, checking on the old fella. And the old man was quite happy with the cool, fresh forest wind kissing his sweaty brows and the greenery, it elated his old heart. This made me even more happier, hehe, such is the joy of sharing ride, you know.
Not very late, the time to part and the destination arrived. He gently disembarked my dirt-covered bike and doing so, asked my if I was any of his acquaintances. “Negative”, I replied.
“Oh lord, feels like the Lord Bishnu himself manifested on Earth to help this old soul”
“Yeah, Bishnu himself appeared ! only that he has only two hands instead of four and he rides this red bike not Garud”, My smirky reply.
“Anyway, I don’t think if I will ever be able to pay this debt back. How about a cup of tea, Son?”
“I’d love to, but I have to ride a long way,” I kindly declined. Started my bike again. I have my own ways to impose eternal debts on poor humans, you know.
“Born to Be wild” Steppenwolf started shouting into my ears and I fled the scene swiftly.