Chapter 10 - The Ride

The taxi sped away like a bunny rabbit. The old man sat quietly and looked nervously at his lunch box. Maan touched his lunchbox but the old man quickly put it to his other side, out of Maan's reach. The taxi driver kept stealing glances at them through his rear view mirror. But he looked away as soon as Maan looked at his face through the rear view mirror, waved at him and smiled mischievously.
“Who are you?” said the old man suddenly.
“Prince Charles”, said Maan.
“Stop the taxi!” commanded the old man.
“What will you do when you get down?”
“Whatever! I am not going with you”, he said with exasperation in his voice.
“Ok sit for 5 minutes, then you can get down.”
“No”, he said and shook his head.
Maan took out a chewing gum from his pocket and offered it to the old man.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A sedative, to stop your grumbling.”
“What?” he looked perplexed.
Maan put the chewing gum in his mouth and began to laugh. The old man smiled.
“Where are you taking me, your majesty?” he asked Maan.
“Buckingham Palace of course.”
The old man sighed and looked out the window.
“What does your daughter do?” asked Maan.
“Why?” asked the old man.
“You look like an academic. Do you teach somewhere?” asked Maan.
“No, no. I am a lawyer! Oh and I think I remember where I stay”, he said as a smile spread across his wizened face.

The taxi turned into a bylane in Worli and Maan said, “This is where we get down.”
The old man looked around and said, “Yes, yes.”
This is where the wide road ended. The waves would break upon the stony walls and push at it with all its might. Sometimes it would breach these impenetrable boundaries, but this happened only in the monsoon season and the weatherman usually knew about it beforehand. To one side of where they stood they could see little children running after balloons and lovers planning their own dreamy worlds hung by cotton strings tied to these balloons. But to the other side was a place where all such balloons would burst. This was a world that never looked towards the sea.

Maan held the old man’s arm and led him into a dark, squalid lane. People rubbed their shoulders against Maan, for it was too narrow for two people to pass side by side. Some people stared at him others didn’t notice him.
“Prince Charles! It doesn’t feel familiar, does it?” laughed the old man.
“Lead the way old man, this is your kingdom.”
The old man nodded. They passed through smoke that came from earthen ovens and entered a world dark and hidden. People stood in their way and sometimes they wouldn’t move.
“Well, don’t look at them. Just push them away”, said the old man matter-of-factly. Yet, little children clung to his trousers, women held on to his shirt, kissed him and rubbed their hands on his face and men held his collar and shook him a bit. Then they bared their teeth and laughed at him. Maan didn’t look at their faces. He slapped his hands on whatever touched him and walked as one would in a tropical jungle.

A while later the old man stood at the door of an old house.
“Ba”, said a voice from inside the house, “Is that you?”
The door opened to utter darkness, until Maan made out a pair of shining eyes.
“Where were you Ba? I waited for you so long”, said the voice.
“Kamala, we have a guest”, said the old man. He went inside briskly and turned on a solitary bulb, the brightness of which stunned Maan for a while. Then he saw a girl inside taking the old man’s lunch box to what was perhaps a kitchen inside. She had thick, curly hair and was of dark complexion. When she returned with a glass of water, Maan could see her plain round face that contrasted her remarkable, shining eyes. She was dressed in rags, but what she wore didn’t seem out of place among the old walls and rusty furniture of her home.

“Prince Charles, this is my daughter, Kamala. Don’t be fooled by her sureness of movement. She is completely blind”, the old man said with a sense of pride as he sat on his rocking chair.
“Thank you”, said Maan as he accepted the glass of water.
Kamala looked at him and smiled graciously.
“Kamala, I lost my way, and even my mind. This man is the reason why I am back home and sitting before you.”
“Thank you”, said Kamala to Maan.
“Oh I was looking for someone else and found your father walking aimlessly with a lunchbox in his hand. I don’t know what drew me to him. He tried to run away from me, but I wouldn’t let him go so easily”, laughed Maan.
“Ba is much too old. But we depend on him. Sunil does his bit too.”
“Sunil is my son”, explained the old man.
Maan nodded and then looked around the house. It had small windows. The paint had all but peeled off. The sitting room wasn’t all that big. There were some old chairs and a cot placed against the wall. There was a small TV and even an old refrigerator. Maan felt very tired and drowsy.
“I must be going.”
“Please have some tea”, said Kamala.
Kamala looked on at him with a constant gaze that made Maan feel very self-conscious.
“I won’t be too long”, she said and went into the inside of the house.
It was twilight outside and smoke sneaked in through the window near the cot. Perhaps it came from the kitchen next doors.
The old man walked up to Maan and asked, “Are you alright?”
But Maan had nodded off to sleep.