In Bhubaneswar, there is a strange practice prevalent. The begging is pretty organised. They have studied the market and choose to venture out only on weekends. As a result, you will always come across a beggar on a weekend morning.
And the sad part is that they sing. And loudly at that. One such person who would frequent me was a Baba who spread the gospel of Shirdi Sai Baba on Sunday afternoons. Now, being a baba is better than being unemployed. You will never be denied food anywhere. Partly because how foolish superstitious people are. Or someone will take pity on you. Or probably just give you something so that you leave.
As a result, you get to see a lot of interesting babas. There was this one guy who would go about shouting. Yes, shouting. He would keep screaming at the top of his lungs. And what was most astonishing. He would scream for hours on end, and absolute gibberish! Imagine screaming yourself hoarse for hours, and actually not making any sense.
And then there was this baba whom you could see near the railway station. He would sit on a mat on the footpath next to the highway and do the unthinkable. And then there is this baba who waltzes in and out of babadom whenever he feels like. He is actually a “ranga mistri” – a labourer who paints houses. But whenever he feels, he stops shaving and becomes a baba. And hard times make him come back to the world. So he just shaves, and is off to painting houses again. People in the area call him Sansari baba.
Now this baba, whom I like to call Sunday baba blesses our locality only on Sundays. I first noticed him on a lazy, sleepy Sunday. I had just had lunch and was on the threshold of beautiful sleep, when I was startled out of my senses when I heard a voice. “Sai Baba Aae, Sai Baba Aae….” I initially thought someone was standing next to me and started screaming. On opening my eyes, I realised it was someone on the road outside. It was like the sound of a loudspeaker tied to your head in a cruel punishment. When I went out to see, I saw it was just one guy.
He had one irritating voice. And he would come every Sunday. And sing the same damn song.
After tolerating him for about 3 months, I decided to do something about it. I waited at the chhak around the time he would come there. Before he entered the lane, I walked up to him. You could hear him from a mile anyway. Only when I stood about a metre from him and stared at him for a full five minutes did he shut up.
Baba, I have a request.
He gave me the “Ah, come my son. You have come to the right person look”.
“Ah…tell me. Sai is the answer to all problems.”
“Baba, my grandmother is unwell and you are very loud. When you pass our house, she jolts out of her wits. So please do not sing when you are in front of our house.”
You should have seen the look on his face. As if I had surgically removed his vocal chords, he gave me a disgusting look and said. “We are here to do Baba’s work. No one can stop us in this.”
If I hadn’t left after the ten minutes of requesting, he would have pushed me away. Finally, I took out a 50 note and put it in his plate. “Baba, please. We are devotees of Baba. My grandmother would love it. And I also would.”
He gave me one last disgusting look and walked away to the next lane. It has been two weeks, and we do get to listen to him on Sunday afternoons. But only like someone is playing a radio (a badly screwed one) nearby. And that too when he is in the next lane!
It seems a relief. But Sharad Pawar has announced that sugar prices might go up to 100 rupees. I wonder how long the offer will last!
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