I was standing in the kitchen cutting papaya and chatting on the phone with my best friend (of 33 years) when after discussing a zillion things including the Vicky-Katrina wedding, the conversation moved to walking and grandparents. She said, "Your granddad was so cute 'coz he really did believe that he was walking fast!"
Very true! For the first few years of my life, even I thought he walked very fast. But that changed quite quickly because we, my grandfather and I, “grew up” rather swiftly.
We had a 71 year age difference, so by the time I knew him I thought of my grandfather as an old man (no, now I don’t now think anyone in their 70s is old!).
Rai Bahadur Atma Ram Sethi was all of 5 feet, portly and hard of hearing except when you talked about money (so said my 5 ft 9 inch grandmother but that’s for another story). He was referred to as Papaji by his children, grandchildren and since he lived to 96, by almost all and sundry.
So Papaji went for an hour long walk, every morning and every evening. Armed with his walking stick which went tuk tuk on the floor, come winter or summer, you would find him striding out of the gate and on to the streets of Defence Colony at 5.30 am and 4.30 pm.
As it happens, at 5.30 am other than an odd chowkidar or doodhwala (even they at more like 6am!) there was rarely anyone else on those streets.
However, sometime in the 80s(his and the century’s), a tall gentleman wearing white robes, wooden clogs and a white mask would be found on these streets too. This was Munniji. He belonged to the Jain Ashram in the same block as where we lived.
I'm not sure exactly when it happened or how it happened but somehow moan vrat dharan Munniji and my hard of hearing Papaji became walking partners. There was no predetermined time or point at which they would meet but somehow on most mornings they would be seen walking together.
I think it probably started with an observation of another human being’s presence, then an acknowledgement of a familiar face, and then choosing to walk together in the same direction. Apparently, on one of their earliest walks together, Munniji standing tall at 6 feet, tumbled and was caught mid-air by 5 footed Papaji, catching him just in time and "saving him from what could have been an awful fall.' (Papaji’s exact words). And the partnership was sealed!
Many years passed and Papaji’s health deteriorated due to old age so he stopped going for a walk. However Munniji did not stop his walks, converting a part of it into visits to his old friend. In those two years that Papaji was unable to go for his walk, Munniji came to visit him very often.
It was a common sight in our home to see Munniji and his young attendant (he had acquired one by now) in Papaji’s room somehow, checking in on him. I say somehow because no words were exchanged, no hand shake, sometimes not even a look passed their way, but I think Papaji knew when Munniji came and more importantly he did! (at 96 there aren’t that many friends left to come. Khurana uncle came too but let’s save him for another day).
Papaji passed away and I never saw Munniji again. Many years later I read about Munniji’s passing away, being cremated in his ashram and some people objecting to that. And that is when I discovered how famous, for lack of a better word, he was! He had a huge following and people waited for hours for just a darshan of him. Philosophically speaking, he didn’t belong to the ashram but the ashram belonged to him. However, for us, he was just, Papaji’s gentle, moan vrat dhaaran, tall, white robed, simple friend, “Munniji”!
What amused me then and fascinates me now is that a deep relationship blossomed between two such different personalities without a single word being exchanged! I guess conversations and relationships aren’t always indebted to oral conversations. Maybe it's true that actions speak louder than words? Maybe our minds or hearts or brains (or whatever) work at a level that one can’t really fathom. Maybe this is what defines us as social animals or maybe this is the definition of that relationship called friendship.
moan vrat dharan - vow of silence
darshan – glimpse
chowkidar - watchman
doodhwala - milkman