RETURN TO INNOCENCE

The Old Man Who Lived Down The Lane

Shilpi's journal entry - Diwali, November 12, 2023:

Diwali. The biggest festival of India. A time of joy and celebration like none other. Like most people, some of my fondest memories are of moments spent during Diwali in the past. Moments made memorable by not just happiness and fun, but also by unique experiences, especially life-altering ones.

This Diwali, as I take a trip down memory lane, I cannot help but wonder how my life would have unfolded without these life-changing experiences. And at the very top of the list would be the Diwali of 2021. I was all of 21 years of age at that time.

I was then toddling through the world of adulthood. One step at a time. Doing my MBA while staying alone in Delhi. And navigating the post-Covid world at the same time. The second wave of Covid had ended a couple of months earlier. And I was ready to go out into the world and mingle with people again.

The neighbourhood seemed to be the best place to resume my interactions with society. And it was a very bustling neighbourhood indeed. Delhi is teeming with people, and my locality was no different. It was loud, noisy, dusty and lively.

However, like all neighbourhoods, mine had its share of oddball characters. Society calls them misfits. Loners, drifters, individuals who try to avoid social contact and lead an isolated life. One such character lived right down the road, a stone's throw away from my apartment.

He was an old man, probably in his 70s. The house he lived in was an old but giant property. One of those decades-old structures that can still be found in the dark nooks and corners of every big Indian city. A house with history, but no future.

Nobody knew his name. Some addressed him as Guruji, others as Masterji. Rumour had it that he was an artist, a painter probably. Though none seemed to know what he painted, and when.

He interacted with no one. Was rarely seen in public. Except when he would go out to buy the newspaper every morning. And visit the local grocery shop to buy groceries once a week.
Local kids used to make fun of him. Hawkers used to tease him. And women used to stay away from him. He never uttered a word to anyone, yet they all wanted to avoid him.

The French poet Jean de La Fontaine had once said, "A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." I guess that would best explain my 1st encounter with this old man. How it turned out to be a twist of fate instead of a random event. And how it shaped my destiny forever.

Chapter 1 - The Stranger

It was a day in August, 2021. A good 3 months before Diwali. The skies opened up one fine morning. And flooded the city in torrential rain.

I was returning to my apartment after my morning classes. My Honda Scooter broke down in the middle of the road. Right when the heavy downpour started. Right in front of the old house where the old man lived.

My flat was just a 5 minute walk away up the road. But there was no way I could have walked in that severe rain. Not while pushing my scooter all the way to my place. Not without getting drenched in the process.

Left with no other option, I abandoned my Scooty in the middle of the road. And ran towards the old house to seek shelter under one of its ancient balconies. I stood under a big 1st floor balcony to escape the rain. That was when I first heard his voice.

"Don't leave your scooter in the middle of the road," said a voice from the balcony above. "A car might ram into it. Park it under this balcony, where you are standing."

I looked up and saw the old man standing on the balcony above holding an umbrella. His white hair swept across his forehead in the breeze. His white beard covered in droplets of rain. His gravelly voice sounded as old as his appearance.