It was a bright sunny day, a perfect one for journey by train. I left from Noida in hurry to catch a train to my hometown, Amritsar. I barely managed to reach station at time of departure but I was aboard.
Journey started, I was alone among the unknown faces. I always like to have a travel partner, especially for a long journey like this. It's a great time to discuss things. But as I was not accompanied by anyone, my music was there, offering me a hand. I plugged in my earphones and I was not alone anymore.
After 2 hours, an aged Sikh man, came and sat at the seat adjacent to me. He had a good built, nearly 185 cm, broad shoulders, elegantly dressed, wore a maroon turban, beige shirt and contrast trousers. I passed a smile as a formal greeting and he smiled back.
After passing some stations, the train stopped for next signal, and he asked what was the next station. That was the ice breaker. I gestures him to wait and put down my earphones and asked him again what he had said with a pardon. He repeated his question, I replied.
He asked me what's my destination and I replied him again. In return, I also asked him his destination. So we started conversing about the things we do for living. He was impressed by my job and work. For him, he was the export merchant of hand made wooden chess boards and pieces. Before that he had served in Punjab Police also.
Then our conversation started in a full swing. We started sharing experiences. But mostly I let him speak because he he has seen this world more than me. Turned out, he was May 6, 1946 born and knew my mother tongue Punjabi also. Our conversation shifted to more casual mode in Punabi language.
Our talk moved to the freedom and independence of India. He stated a small tale which was very interesting. It went like this.
"My grandfather lived in Amritsar before the independence of India and partition in 1947. He told me this incident. He had a servant who was older than the age of grandfather. But he was very honest an innocent from heart.
One day, in 1945, he came to my grandfather, sat on ground near his chair and started crying his heart out. His sounds were very moving. Grandfather asked him what happened, is everything fine with him or his family, does he need money; but it seemed that any of these were not his problem. Grandfather offered him water. After crying for some time he drank water and wiped his eyes. Grandfather asked him the reason.
He said his reason was that he heard that India is going to get freedom. Soon everyone will be free and they will do and act as their own will. That is bothering him.
Grandfather replied that freedom fighters are giving so many sacrifices to get this freedom from the British Rule and you say that it's bothering you.
When asked the reason of what is troubling him, he said that his daughter is married to a man who lives in Lahore. To meet her every month, he takes a train from Amritsar Railway Station to Lahore. On his way to Lahore in train, the tracks go in two directions and the line guard has to pull the lever to turn the train in right instead of left. From there, he rides a bullock-cart or walks down to his daughter's house.
"And what's with that?" Asked grandfather.
He replied gently,"If we get freedom, people will work according to their own wish. So, the line guard, who changes the train direction to Lahore, will not pull the lever and I won't be able to meet with my daughter again."
Grandfather held him from his shoulders with both hands and embraced him and said nothing."
This story came to his mind as the train stopped to wait for the further signal to clear. Soon the train stated moving toward the destination. We had a lot of taking. I shared the things I've read and he shared what he had experienced.
But this story left me thinking, "Do we really have deserved and valued our freedom after independence?"
