How happiness and sanity hardly go hand in hand.
So here goes,
When I was in Kashmere Gate metro station in Delhi this past month just having come out of the station on my way to the bus station to buy a ticket to Himachal I walked, with a crowd, like a current driving through sea. Such is how rows of humans move in eager large metropolitan cities. And as I was walking, I saw just a few paces ahead of me a man laughing and his laughter would echo back from the indifference of all people walking by. At first I thought he was having a conversation with couple of more youngsters in step with him. But as soon as they increased their pace and my man turned around, the scene got clearer to me.
The man held a tape recorder, very old style to his ears, almost like a boom box and he was listening to some evening Radio Jockey miles away. And laughing at the jokes of RJ. The RJ for the life of his wouldn’t have had a better and a keener listener. And this man was walking , strolling through the evening rats of the race with his music on his shoulders and smile on his face.
I absorbed this scene, stil wondering maybe I am mistaken as I went into the ticket counter, got my ticket and returned.
When I returned to almost the same spot, I looked around for this guy. Very hard to miss when you are tuned out of general frequency and looking for such things right out of ordinary. This time he was standing at a place and the song that was just about to start was Chaand taare tode laau…(SRK movie) and maybe it was my mistaken eyes but surely he tapped his feet to a beat or two.
What is sanity, some simply put it as the rules of the majority, the norm and expected. Here stood a man, unlike others that evening, not rushing, neither waiting in a queue, with no furrows on his forehead, no baggage of journey weighing him down. He stood in a moment chipped away from time while the rest of us clung to time like bread crumbs strewn behind by rushing child .
That person is stil dancing and laughing. Right there in the middle of my criss crossing thoughts and madness. And when everything gets so quiet in my nights , when I fall asleep by rolling my body to one side and tucking my head underneath the pillow, covering my eyes to the sharpness of night and the blankets to clothe over my sinned soul, I hear the tapping feet of a dancer who hasn’t yet heard the music stopping or the world crumbling.