Taare Zameen Par

It was may,1997. I was 15 years old. It was my third trip to Amarkantak. Amarkantak is suppose to be the highest point in the vindhya range in central Indian state. The sacred river Narmada originates from a spring here. People have built a temple over this spring. Right opposite to the temple is Baba's home. His name is Shri A.Nagaraj Sharma, but I always addressed him as Baba, meaning grandfather. I thought thats how my dad wanted me to address him. He probably related to him in father-son relation. My earlier trips to Amarkantak had been in 1990 and 1991 along with my family and other colleagues of my parents. This time, my dad had already been in Amarkantak, and my mom was not coming. So I was traveling alone. Well not alone entirely, I had Gaur uncle who was a faculty in Mechanical Engg department in IIT-D, Naresh Mamaji, his son Kapil who was my age, Neeraj who was 4 years elder to me and Sandeep who was few years younger to me. Then there were Sanjeev bhaiya and Ritu bhabhi also. Among them, I was the only one who had been to Amarkantak before.

My dad had left for Amarkantak in first week of May. Before leaving he had urged and also warned us (mom and I), to join him for the shivir. Jeevan Vidya had grown in the last 4 years, and he had been requesting us to do a shivir. For some reason, mom and I both had been giving him a slip on the issue. I'm still not sure what reason's mom had, but I had no reasons. The only possible reason I could think of is probably the fact that JV was still a rural thing. All the shivirs were held in rural India, and mostly farmers were getting associated with it. At time, I had a bent of mind, where it was difficult for me to relate to rural Indians. I felt more comfortable with my elite friend circle in Delhi. And so before leaving dad had given a sort of warning to both of us to come for the shivir, otherwise he may not return home. I guess, my mom decided to take a mid-path. She allowed me to go, but herself stayed back in Delhi. I also guess, Gaur uncle was also traveling for a similar reason.

As a child, I had always seen such kind of struggle between my parents. On one hand was my dad, totally against the modern world, who saw all the answers in JV, while on the other was my mom who wanted to be more practical. It was very hard for my mom to imagine a life without the usual luxuries in life, specially when our neighbors and relatives kept adding something each year. For me, dad was always correct, but I was too lazy and weak to start living the way he wanted me too. I loved wearing nike shoes, playing basketball, watching T.V, when I always knew one day I would leave all that. I just hoped to postpone that day a little bit. Our other relatives always had high regard for dad, but thought he was a little impractical. All this had been happening in my house, when finally dad gave us the final warning this time before leaving for Amarkantak.

Meanwhile in Amarkantak, people were gathering for the shivir. All of them were either friends or friends of friends who were coming by the word of mouth. Some of them were curious to know what JV is, while others were coming for the sake of their friendship, just like me and Gaur uncle. They expected some 60 people to gather, and so in terms of numbers this would have been the biggest JV shivir till then. Dad was suppose to take it, while Ransingh Mamaji and others would take care of the arrangements. I remember Ganeshji's presence there, but what role he was playing is not clear to me.

We started at 1pm from Nizammuddin station by Kalinga Utkal express. In the evening, somewhere in Madhyapradesh we met, two more people who were headed for the shivir too. It was quite exciting for me to just meet someone like this, heading for the same place, same purpose. One of them was a very old man Sindhu Chacha. He must have been over 70 then, had a long grey beard. Sindhu chacha had been in the freedom struggle along with Gandhi ji.

We all reached Pendra road next day at 11.30 am. Sadhan bhaiya, had sent a jeep for us, but with the extra two passengers and also our more than expected luggage it was not possible for all of us to travel in jeep together. Amarkantak was still 35 km away, deep in the forest and on top of the mountain. So Gaur uncle, Naresh Mamaji, and we kids (Neeraj,Kapil,Sandeep and I) decided to come by bus. Our luggage was taken by the jeep. When the bus came, it was jam packed. It happened to be some religous season, and so people from far away were coming to Amarkantak. While Gaur uncle and Naresh Mamaji managed to get in the bus, we kids went on the roof. Surprisingly they didn't object to this. That was the first sign I got from others that I was a grown up kid now. They trusted me, when it came to traveling on the roof of bus. But sadly, the driver noticed us soon, and we had to get off the bus. There was no room inside, so we decided to stay back, while Gaur uncle and Naresh Mamaji continued their journey.

Neeraj asked me if I knew the way to Amarkantak. I said, I'm not sure. No I don't. We all laughed. I was surprised. But we all laughed. There seemed no fear of getting lost in the unknown land. It seemed even the adults had no such fear, and so they left us alone. Had my mom been there, it would had a completely different situation. I was sure, if mom comes to know of it Gaur uncle and dad would have had a good taste of her mind. But that was not happening here. We were only kids left behind, in the Jungle. There were no adults to worry.

After an hour, another bus came. We got on it. Some one offered us a part of their seats. Its pretty normal in India to adjust children. The bus played the song "tum to thehre pardesi,ghar kab aaoge". I'm not sure of who the singer was, but he had Raja in his name. This song had topped the charts during those days. For the next one hour, the driver played this song. Only this song. He would rewind and play it again. It was that part of my life, where I was trying to develop a taste for English movies and songs. Listening to Hindi songs was a sign of backwardness to me. So I was probably the only one not enjoying that song, and wondering how can someone enjoy this kind of music. The fare was Rs.9 each. When we asked for the ticket, the conductor looked at us in surprise. In that part, only the government buses give tickets. This was a privately owned bus, and they see the need of giving tickets to passengers. It was only a waste of paper. It then again surprised me, but now I can understand the concept.

We reached Amarkantak after an hour. Amarkantak was no where to be seen. It seemed the bus stand had shifted out of the town. Next to us flowed the great Narmada. We started walking where everyone was going. I remembered that baba's house is opposite to the temple, from where Narmada originates. And it would not be difficult to find that place. While walking I saw somebody familiar. Dad! Hey thats dad. He had come to receive us at the bus station. I was so happy to see him. All the kids touched his feet while I hugged him. " Don't tell this to your mom, she won't like it". I smiled. We took a short-cut to baba's home. It actually was a longer route, but it was away from the road. We walked on a 'pag-dandi' (a path among the grass), all along the Narmada, to enter baba's home from the back. Everyone was there. It was a Mela.

The next 7 days I spent in the shivir. I understood nothing in the shivir, just saw people laughing and enjoying. Some would even weep quietly. I could make out, the shivir was a hit, but still didn't know why.

We returned home in June. After two months my dad died. He was suffering from cancer.