****A Strange Visit***********

I have a strong feeling that fascinating experiences in life happen in most strange way imaginable. This was no extra-ordinary time. My belief was further strengthened.
I had been to the university with my mom and dad in the car we had bought a few days back. I had to wake up early morning to get to go to the university. It had always been a lovely experience to go there, as it was one of the places at my home town where I might not know quite a few people but everyone did know me through my mom and it was always very nice to hear when they recognized me just by looking, saying that I looked much like my mother and they can recognize me anytime, anywhere. Believe it or not, It always is a heart-warming experience when I am compared to my mom in some way or the other.
I had an other reason too that day for going to the university. There was a big field at the back of it and i had thought that when my dad would be away to his work or so, I would go with my driver to the field and learn driving. My dreams did receive a jolt when my driver did tell about some work he had at his home and so would be going there in between. But later i was relieved to hear that his home was near to the place and would be back soon. Or he had said so just for consoling me because he knew the reason of mine going to university???...
The University is so impressing that the more you be there, the more you want to be. The more you discover, more you know the things you still need to. But, the place which always had kept me inviting and inquiring about its beauty and extent of itself, made no impression, what-so-ever, on that day, as I had something other as my plan and I was continuously looking at the road from which my driver was to come. There was no trace of him for a long time. I really don't no how much, but for it did seem as if it was a very long time. Seeing my eagerness, quite evident by the fact of mine going in and around the univ. and looking more depressed each time I came back, my mom said me to go and look for the driver at his home, if I wanted. I was thinking of doing the same thing but had not asked my mom as that area had been famous for murders and all at night and so i did fear that my mom wont let me go. Although I was not completely wrong as she still didn't let me go all by myself but did ask a clerk at office to take me to his home. Whichever way the opportunity came, it hardly mattered for me. What mattered was the thing that I was going to call the person with whom I can go and drive my car.
The man with me also didn't know the exact house in which my driver did live. So he had to ask others and each time he did so, a fact redeemed itself in me. In such societies, a guy is known by the name of his parents, however high he thinks he has reached.

As i reached the doorstep of driver's house, I could see the house, although not built in the most proper way it could have been, it still did look different and comparatively better than the others nearby. As I went in through the outer most gate of wood, I could see a very old man looking through his glasses to us as if inquiring, who we were and why were we here. The man with me took the name of my mother saying that I was sent by her for the driver and left me there. I chose to sit on the stable looking chair rather than on the cot, which did seem to break even on the slight jerk to it, kept nearby. The man was sitting nearby on the other cot, which did look somewhat stable in comparison. I stayed there for sometime sitting idle staring at the old sitting in front of me.I could guess the man was my driver's father. After sometime, he again looked up from the the work he did pretend to be so much seriously into, although quite visible was the fact that he was just browsing through thinking of something else. After looking at me for some time he asked my identity, rather not exactly the identity he was interested in. He just wanted to know what relation I had to the name of my mom. As he got to know the identity, "in terms he wanted to know", he did seem even more tensed and thoughtful and again started doing the work he was into. Pretending.
And then as I couldn't control myself I blurted out asking for the man fishing for the one I had to be there. The guy, I was cursing as he had gone for some work of his and hadn't been back since although he did tell me that he would be back soon.I got a vague reply, rather I should say a reply that included many fear. The fear of the feeling that his son had gone long time back for a simple work and had not returned. A reply which did seem to keep me guessing and hence just hoping that his son would be back. A fear that if I go back and tell my mom that his son was not even back to his home yet, she would be angry and his son would loose his job. And many others.
I later realized 1 of them to be that the old man was to retire in few months after which they would loose the house I was seeing within 6 months and his son with no permanent job yet had no place to live and all.
I was just sitting there guessing about their lifestyle and all, when from outside a lady came. She was old enough and her dressing sense did prove her age and hence I could guess her to be Driver's mother. She was a hell lot of talkative. Although I could see the same lines of tension and thoughts in her head, by her constantly looking on the road from which her son was to come, but never did she stop talking. She told me what not, starting from this generation to the past ones. After all she had to say ended, she started telling me about her youngest son. This son of hers was my driver. I guess she started talking to me about him as she felt I would be more interested in knowing about someone i had seen rather than anyone else. I really feel, was there something she didn't tell me. From the starting life of my driver to till date. When it came about driving, even the old man stared up enthusiastically, and started the story of the days he took his son to driving and all. He, then, also told of the days of his own when he used too drive. I just kept looking at them, thinking "How happy they feel about telling their family experiences? How fool are they to think me enjoying all these stories??" Anyways, I had no choice other than to hear them until my driver came or their stories end. End of the stories never did seem near. Each new line of theirs seem to begin a new story. I also thought for once that what if they chose not to end their story even after their son comes and, selfishly, I started making plans of what to say to end their story. Although, I ever knew I won't need it. When they ran out of any new story or so they talked about their younger son's family. I could see the son of his, who was so weak and had a big stomach, which I guessed was due to malnutrition. Later I realized, he was being referred to as only alive grandson of his, later explained in other stories about the death of others. Even these stories were told so enthusiastically and eagerly that I felt, "Aren't they talking about their own grandsons?" Later, I realized, these societies have their own way of dealing with sorrows. If they let cry overpower them, they would cry whole life for the things happened to them. In the middle of their stories, they remembered that I had been sitting for a long time and they had not asked me for eating, almost forgot that in the tension of their son. Being from the village, they had a strong feelings about things like someone coming to home shouldn't go without eating. I, although, had no place in my stomach had to eat. As I was eating, they were continuing with their stories.
It was then that my driver came back. He told that he was late because his motorcycle did end up with some problem and he had to wait. As he was talking I was framing my plans to escape from that place as soon as I could. I knew their stories had not ended and it would start anytime. I knew I would again have to hear all that things I was just listening out of compulsion. It was just a matter of time for them to shift the eyes, which were now satisfied that their son was back sound and safe, back to me. I just thought, "They had that much to say when they were tensed, how much would they say when they are completely ready for it?"..
I was just waiting with my plans to say. But I never needed them. They never spoke back to me after their son came except for the time I was leaving, just saying to come back again if I thought I could come to that place. It was then that I thought. All this talking, All these stories, just to make me stay. Just for the fear that if I leave, their son might loose a job. Just because I was the son of someone who employed their son. I was shocked by the relation they were attached to me with. I, while hearing to them, was thinking of all sort of things other than what they said to me, but now when they are not speaking a word, I could hear each word of their clearly....

********Just a feeling******

Watching DD1 movies for a long time did infuse a feeling in me abt workers in the family saying "chotte saheb" to the junior residents. A feeling i never felt wud happen to me n so wen it came it took me by surprise n even before i could imagine n enjoy the feeling i did only see in movies, the feeling of being someone more responsible and being held at such higher position did overpowered others. As i recall the incident, each time i hav a feeling infused in me, is it alwayz the same feeling of binding, do relations create through emotions and are alwayz emotions overpowered by the circumstances around....