SOLAPUR CHADDAR

Some people remain mere aquaitances, even if you meet them everyday,

Whilst, some strike a different chord in your heart, as if you have known them since previous births, even on the first day you come across them.

Dina kaka belonged to the later category.

i distinctly remember when i first came across Dina kaka.

It was a thursday in the month of shraavan.

Every thursdays, it was a ritual to  pray towards Saibaba and offer the pedha prasadam.

We children used to get bored whilst singing the  Saibaba Aarti's in front of the photo frame. But the motivation of pedha used to keep us going.

It was the month of shraavan, so heavens were beating down mercilessly on mother earth and earthlings in the form of torrid raindrops. 

Not pitter pattering, but pounding.

As we opened the gates of our building,  i saw a man stood near our ground floor flat, beneath the first floor balcony, trying to escape the elements. 

He was, however,  drenched from neck to toe. 

The criss crossing winds had ensured that the white lenga and the brown jhabba that he wore were no barrier to the lashing rain.

Papa reached out," Arre Dina,  what a pleasant surprise! ".

 When we had settled down to eat in the kitchen, he gave me his share of pedha.

And that was enough to form a unique bond between a 5 year old and a 50 year old.

This was before the dining table era, so, we were all sat on the floor on chatais.

After Aai had served us with chappati and batata bhaji  in the steel plate,  i greedily tore into my chappati. But before i could stuff it into my mouth, i heard Dina kaka's rusky and deep voice,

"Vadani kaval gheta 

Naam ghya 

Shree Hariche "

i turned towards him, more out of curiosity, till he had finished reciting the shloka and the ancient rituals.

"Thombya!  This is to show our gratitude towards the food on our plate and your mother who has served us.

Say Bismillah! and cup your palms upwards 

Or 

Say Grace! and cross your heart

Or

Say Vadani kaval gheta! joining your palms,

The saraansh of them remains same. It's the thought that matters.

And thoughts have no language.

We don't think in any language. 

There remains a huge rift between humans thoughts, their articulation and action.

Was it not your Amitabh in Agneepath

who said, " Aadmi sochtaa kuch hai, boltaa kuch hai aur kartaa kuch hai"...

Dina kaka's made a perfect mimicry of Amitabh in his rusky voice. 

His eating habits were unique too.

He would sit cross legged and upright on the chattai.

The vati with curry or Aamti would be on the left side of the dish, next to it the bhaaji.  He would then arrange rice in the form of an island in the right side of the dish.

He never used a spoon, I doubt if he knew how to hold it.

So he would dip his hand into the vati and fill his palm cup with the Aamti and pour it in the rice island.  

This act was followed by slurping any excess Aamti that would trickle to the bottom of his palm.

The expression on his face whilst eating,  made Aai so happy that she would fill up his vati even before he had finished it.

This man had pocketed me on the first day of our aqaintance. 

A pedha, a fullto Amitabh dialogue and then to top it all a bed time story.

The wants of a 5 year old from the 20th century were very little. 

Dina kaka was a master story teller.

The stories were from his own collection and later on i  realised that he often would add his own version to the main story and make it more exciting.

"Shabri tasted the wild berries and offered those half eaten ones to  Lord Ram. Seeing this Laxman got angry and brandishing his sword lept towards her.

So who was Shabri? "

He had this annoying habit of asking us a question after every few sentences.

" She was Kakaiyi's servant ", a half asleep Babita said.

"Thombi!  That was Mantharaa, whom Shatrughna had kicked out from the palace. 

Shabri is an old lady, in the forest of Dandakaaranya! "

The story would reach a climax and then 

Dina kaka would say,

" Did Hanuman manage to find Sanjeevani herb on Dronagiri Parvat?

How did he bring it back? 

How was Indrajeet defeated? , 

All will be divulged tomorrow!!

We children would create a ruckus and demand he continues,  but he had ensured that those tender minds and their heavy eyes were drifting in a far away fairyland.

Some of us dreamt of Hanuman flyiing across the sea, some wondered how he would reach the size of atom and instantaneously transform into a gigantic proportions. 

He was around 5 feet 6 inches tall, a dark complexion from carrying out his business in sun, a freckled face which had a perpetual smile on it, a large crop of white flocks of hair, matching white Singham style moustache and not an ounce of fat on him. 

He was easily recognisable by his white lenga and brown jhabba.

Dina kaka used to sell chaddars.

The special Solapur hand weaved patented ones. 

He would carry about 50 easily, 25 in each arm.

Years of walking and carrying weights had turned his arms into steel.

His legs, however, bore the brunt of his daily long walks and one could see the varicosities in this legs when he sat cross legged.

During summer vacations, our 1 bedroom flat would be home to about 7-8 cousins. I wonder how Aai Papa managed the chaos then.

Our ring leader was Dina kaka. 

He would tell us stories at bedtime, spin the top and play marbles even after a long day at work.

Those summer vacations also remind me of the 'Suryanamaskar', he would ask us to perform at 6 in the morning.

"The sun wakes up early,  so why can't you?

Arre thombya,  lift your bum up and swing down, let your nose touch your matrubhumi, and then arch back.," he would demonstrate in the balcony in his stripey half pant. 

We children would make fun of him and his half chaddi and lenga.

But that lenga and half chaddi instilled a certain values upon us, in the form of those early morning  suryanamaskar, thanking for the food at dinner table and touching the grownups feet before retiring at bedtime.

Ganesh Chaturthi is a festival close to many of us.

Dina kaka existence was exemplified around the Aartis. 

Those songs were not mere Aartis, they were a dialogue between him and Lord  Ganesh.

"Tu sukhkarta 

Tu Dukhharta 

Tuch karta aani karavita ",

He would sing passionately swaying and pointing his hands in front of the idol.

We children would turn our back to Ganapati  Bappa and watch Dina kaka and his dramatics.

During visarjan, he would he the saddest person on planet.

With teary eyes he would 

say, " Ganapat challe gavaalaa. Chaien padhenaa aamhaalaa. Phudchyaa varshi lavkar yaa".

And he would say this sitting in front of the idol. Trying to convince the Lord...

Days turned to nights and nights to days.

Many of my cousins developed wings and they leapt into the wider world. 

Some seniors in their autumn of life dropped off as dried leaves would.

The one bedroom flat became a 3 bedroom one with a bigger lounge.

Chattais made way to a dining table.

Suryanamaskaar were now superseded in plush gyms with heavy  weights.

Slowly, Dina kakas presence became less and less frequent at our home.

i was about to leave the country for a few years.  

Flashbacks have a bad habit of flashing back at the wrong time 

Dina kakas memories were troubling me. It had been 7 years since i had last seen him.

He didn't have a landline at home. Cell phone was not an option.

So i  did something spontaneously. 

Took the Madurai express to Solapur the next morning. 

i only had an address for him, which Aai had kept it in her diary.

'Barkhadi chawl 

Room no 24

Opposite station road. '

i climbed up the wooden stairs of the chawl. The state of the building gave the feeling that the next outburst of rain would wash the chawl away.

My door knock was responded by a lady in her late 40s.

" Is Dina kaka around? ", I enquired.

"Yes!," she replied.  But in that 'yes', was implied,   'Yes, unfortunately,  he is still around'.

i went in. 

The old man was sat in an armchair. Age had weathered him, bent his back , gave a tremor in his hands. 

"Arre thombya,  ye naa."

I sat at his feet. 

I wish my cousins were with me.

His voice would have echoed," Abhimanyu was surrounded in the chakravyuha, but his arrows pierced through the enemies chests".

"I understand you are going to foreign.

Good.  Please go to Eiffel tower and do a Suryanamaskaar at the top."

I stayed with him that night.

Next morning he came to the railway station to see me off.

He had wrapped  a Solapur chaddar for me. "It's very cold i hear in foreign. 

Take this with you."

I bent down on that platform to touch his feet.

Many decades have gone past. 

I still get up early in the morning to do the Suryanamaskaar.

My children tease me when they see me doing the star jumps.

Last week, the little one came to sleep in our bed.

The windows were open and the early morning air brought a chill in and she started to shiver.

I got up and pulled up the purple blue hand weaved Solapur chaddar over her

She snuggled in cosily.

There was after all a lot of warmth embedded in the memories within that

'Solapur chaddar'.