BAIKENAMA2

                                 

BY

SHRIDHAR    TILVE

TRNSLATED

BY

PRIYANVADA NARVEKAR-PARKAR

CHAPTER 2 : SOCIALLING BIKE (BIKES IN KILLARI)

           

When I had purchased the motor bike I was unaware about its maintenance. The awareness came when I had gone to Killari(Latur, Maharashtra). Killari is a small village which became subject of excitement to me after the big earthquake on 30 september, 1993. I got the news about earthquake in Killari from my friend, Vivek. It was the biggest earthquake in the world so he possessed strange kind of proud about it.  His pride was Hindu pride. He told me this news in a strange way. Numbers of dead bodies were changing by hours and hours. Hundred killed…..thousand killed and after some time figures were increasing. It was difficult to understand exactly how many people are died. At that time Vivek came up with one idea.

“Let’s go to Killari.” Vivek said in a leadership voice.

“What would we do there?”  Bhau said in a shrill voice.

“Salya when would we get the opportunity to see the numbers of dead bodies.” Ramya said psychically and enthusiastically.

 “This experience won’t come except in the war. In near future we won’t experience such thing so better we do visit to Killari.” Professor Bhoite

“Even I would like to go. Thousands of fire pyres at one time would be a great long shot.” Film director Patil said.

“Would we only suppose to watch?” I

“What would we suppose to do? Government will do whatever they want to do.” Bhau.

“What does Government do in our country?” Vivek

“Either Government does anything or not we have to go.” I

“How many bikes do we have?” Anna

“Three.” Ramya

“Who would like to come?” I

No one raised their hands.

“Vivekya it was your idea and you are not coming?” I

“But I have to permission from home.”  Patil

“Patil you inform to your home I am leaving & also you inform my parents.” I said and flew.

It was midnight when I reached to Kilari. What I saw was not surely entertaining. Disintegrated houses, collapsed trees and people were lying dead!! Death had knocked at every door. With the door it had disintegrated whole house. This earthquake was like a set time bomb and it had blast on time. Which terrorist had done this act? Was each one of us responsible for it? Nobody was alive to go in death procession. Earthquake didn’t differentiate between hindu-muslim-maratha-backward……nobody. All were dead. People were starting to gather when I reached there. Some of them came for experiencing the thrill, some want a remembrance of seeing some incredible. Dead people were laid in front and live people were gathering around them to see. I thought I am seeing my death. That man who is lying dead in that house is me. That woman who took the wall in her breast is me. Earthquake is within me and I am dead. Death is within me who has destroyed me. Earth has defeated me and I am dead. Why did this people die? It is because earthquake occurred. Why did this earthquake occur? It occurred because of some movements in the layer of earth. Why did this layers moved? It’s because it was their natural necessity!! Layers moved so earth did moved, earth moved so moved men moved in the unmovable walk. We will move still earth is unmoved and we will remain unmoved when earth will move. We are living on earth’s mercy. Our life is a rebate of this land. (aapal jeevan hi hya jaminiae dilali sut aahe) One night earth refused to give rebates to these people. Could Lord Buddha would be alive if he would be at this place? Could Moses, Jesus, Mohammad would be able to survive? Could Lord RamaKrishna would be able to survive? Could earth give excuse to Saint Tukaram if he would be writing poetry (abhang) at this place? Chanakya, Shivaji might be laid in the same way if they would be here? What would happen to Napoleon and Sikandar? History is dead and people are gathered to see it. Geography of the earth had shaken and thousands of people became a part of the history. Even history is dead here.

One housefly is flying on the dead body but that dead body couldn’t do anything. But how does this housefly survived in this earthquake? How did land rebate her? Which blood is being searched by this mosquito on that woman’s body?  Does it possible to it to get that blood?

People are dead and many people are gathered around them. Live people…

Policeman with his hitting stick roaming everywhere. His attention is towards gold bangle of dead woman. First he saw us then shamelessly he starts removing the bangles. Bangles are stuck in her hand. He becomes more frustrated. He keeps his shoe on the hand of dead woman and tries to remove that bangle. Her hand loosens away and came out to his hand. Now her dead hand is in his live hand. He catches the wrest of dead hand and start pushing the bangle towards the arm. At last bangle falls down and he picked it up. His face is cover with extreme joy. Suddenly he realized my presence and he starts running. No one is saying anything to him because he is a policeman. He got the installment (tip / hapta) from dead woman and he is happy because his senior officer doesn’t get any share out of it.

Many people were left after this scene. I and one group of five to six people are stay behind. Group got the courage after people left away. They know that I am alone and can’t do anything. All attacked on the dead bodies. They are snatching every precious thing from each dead body. I am stunned. The person who can stop them has already gone with one golden bangle. Group has now become expert. They not even bother about me. They freaked out. Their work has finished. Nothing has left to snatch. Nobody was there to pick up those dead bodies. It is government’s work and government has supposed to do it. It is the work of social organization and government. Would government file a case if we pick up dead bodies without government’s permission? What is the work of government? Earthquake is not created by the government. Could government pick up the dead bodies? Could government sponsor the help? Why, how and to whom does government sponsor the help? Could government provide the treatment to the dead bodies? What does government does?

I am seeing my death and government is not doing anything.

Suddenly, thought of bike has come in my mind. An awareness touched me. Me bhanavar aalo. Had they taken my bike? I became insane and turned back. Bike was there. I was alive so they don’t think to rob my bike. Alive person can retaliate so perhaps they didn’t take my bike. I went to the bike and started to kick it but I heard yelling sound of one woman. I was surprised. Some one was alive in those thousands of dead bodies. I saw here and there. No one was there around me. There were few people but they were far away. I heard her voice again. I got down. May be some one is here near that triangular wall…no one is here. May be here? No one is there. May be some one is there where I was standing? No one. Again I heard the same voice. Yes, there that woman is there lying down under a huge wall on her breast.  Yes, she is alive. We didn’t realize her presence. She is trying to push that wall but it is impossible to her to do so.

She is pressed under the wall. I have tried to pull the wall unfortunately I was not Samson. I realized that it’s not a stone made wall. I couldn’t pull it with hands. I thought about a screw driver which was in the box of bike. I came near the bike and take out the screw driver. I started to dig out the wall. The wall has become hollow due to earthquake so it was easy to dig out. At last I take out that woman. She started screaming. What to do of such live screaming woman? Should I take her on my bike? Or should I carry her on my shoulder like Bhima? But who will take care of my bike? What if that group would appear again? Her yelling sound has increased. I pulled her legs and like a small child I kept her on front seat of my bike. I sat down at the back but I couldn’t reach at the handles. So I pushed that woman in front. Her eyes were suspecting me even in that condition. Would am I going to tease you from back side? I don’t have such thoughts in my mind.  I pushed her in front and started the bike. I reached near the people who gathered to see the site. They saw the poor condition of the woman and showed me the way to the medical camp.

People who reached first were wearing saffron clothes.  Other people came later. There were three medical camps but all were packed. We got the entry in one of them. Doctor said that her body has poisoned.

“Where did you find her?” Doctor asked.

I described the place.

“Oh, that place!!  Our social workers went there for several times but they didn’t saw her. You won’t find crowd there. That place is famous for ghosts. Would you like to drink water? Please have it.”  Doctor

I got up to leave.

“Where are you going? Please don’t leave. I am requesting you to take this lady to Dr. Kulkarni. At least he will save her legs. You know how it is difficult for a woman to live without leg.  You have a bike so I am requesting you. Please take her to Dr. Kulkarni.” Doctor

“Okay” I said.

Again I take her in front and kicked the bike. Doctor had told me to go as fast as possible. He told me name of disease in medical language but I didn’t realize it. I only understood that I have to go to the given address to admit that lady. Dr. Kulkarni will take care of her after that.

I moved forward to know what the lady wants to tell. Bike stopped unexpectedly. I changed the gear and kicked the bike. Bike was not ready to start. Road was quite. Vehicles were passing in between. Again I made a useless try to kick the bike.

“Damn it!! What happened to you?” I

 I got down but how should I start a bike and support the lady? I slowly picked up the lady and kept her on the right hand side of the bike. She thought I am leaving her on the road. I saw fear on her face.

“I will not leave you. There is some problem in the bike.” I screamed.

She heard that and smiled. I got the energy by seeing her to smile. I started to memories the parts of the bike. I opened the dickey for the manual. Unfortunately I didn’t get the manual. Which parts are connected to each other to make this bike? What is the structure of this bike? Compressor, grease, petrol, like a fool I was seeing at the bike. What is the mystery behind this bike? I don’t know how it has made. How could I know what’s wrong in the bike? Mechanic, where are you? I need your help. You are the person who knows the mystery of the bike. I started to look here and there to search the garage. Not a single shop! Some were there but they were closed. Where are the people vanished who were out to see the impact of earthquake?  Woman yelled again. Bike was still. Woman yelled again. Woman yelled again when I was supposed to leave in the search of mechanic. She yelled because may be she thought I am leaving her. Once again I screamed, “We need a mechanic. Garage man !! he will repair the bike.”

She smiled again.

I screamed in her ear,

“I am going to search him.”

She hard it and whispered something. I pretended to get her.

“I am going to search him” again I screamed in her ear.

She smiled.

I am walking. There are no shops but still I am walking. One, two, three and on the fourth step I turned to the left. It is very narrow lane. I turned a little aside. Not a single shop I got! Suddenly I heard the loud noise of truck and I realized something. Something very horrible!! I start to run. I came out of the lane. I start to run towards the bike. One truck has passed away. One tier of the truck has passed between the two legs of the woman. Finished! It’s all over! The end of the life! Nothing was happened to my bike but he didn’t saw the woman or he didn’t want to stop the truck? Woman was crushed. Oh my God! I should keep her on the left side. Why did I keep her on the right side? I had to give her the protection of bike. I didn’t give it and she crashed like sugarcane.

She wanted to tell me something. Whom was she talking? Did she talk about herself? Did she talk about her husband? Did she talk about her children? I couldn’t get what she wanted to talk. She died before saying anything.

Tears are rolling down on my cheek. I realized that I am crying.

I let me cry. Woman is dead and I am crying. After a long time I paid attention to the bike. I saw few drops of blood on it. I got up. I took the cloth out of the dickey and wiped on the drops. As if I am the murder of the woman and I don’t want let any kind of witness.

Sun was rising slowly. People were coming near to me but nobody wants to stop. I could not understand what to speak. After some time police inspector got down from the police van.

“What happen?” Inspector

“An accident” said somebody

“Who did this?” Inspector

“Sir, we don’t know. Ask this boy. He is here from the beginning.” Somebody

 Anxiously inspector came near to me and said,  

“You rascal, have you drove the bike on her?”

To hear this question I freeze.

“Hey hero, what am I asked?” inspector

Police constable had observe the body and while observing the area he said,

“Sir, wheels are not seemed to be bike. These wheels are of huge vehicles. It is may be Truck or bus.”

Then Inspector has inspected the area and body. He agreed with the police constable.

“You should open your mouth scoundrel. Constable, do the postmortem.” , Said the Inspector.

“Were you present when accident was taking place?” Inspector

  

“No” I

“Then why are you near this bike?” Inspector

I narrated the whole incident to him. His tone has changed.

“Death was in her fate. Her life had saved in the earthquake but she had lost her life in the truck accident.”  Inspector

“Okay, let’s go. Yes, young man, come with us. Get the bike inside the van.” He continued.

I sat down in the police van. Now van is running towards Kilari.

This incident taught me a lesson. Owning and driving a bike is not enough you should also have knowledge about how to repair a bike. I decided to learn it at least for two months from Ramya.         

Crowd was enormous when we reached to Kilari. Everybody was coming ahead for providing help. One good thing was my bike group was also reached there expect film-director Patil. He has  gone to direct a realistic movie at Matheran.

Three days we have devoted for work. We were away from all the isms and colors of the clothes. Here I had change my opinion about saffron color. These people were helping the victims with devotion. Red color arrived lately but later they were totally engrossed in the work.

We argued a lot when we have decided to return. But many of us told that they will be returning within two days. So we decided to return to home.

It is said that man lives lonely and dies lonely. But here many men had been dead together. Many had been injured together. I became suspected about the loneliness of man. In fact, everybody became suspected about it.

 Radha said, “My trust on existence has gone. Man live lonely is really a useless thought.” 

Vivek said, “Man lives alone and dies alone. When he is living he lives along with the others. Here who are dead are died alone. No one can die for others death.”

I said, “It is clear that we live along with others but we are not alone even at the time of our birth. When we take a birth we are sons for our mothers, heir for fathers, nephew for uncle, grandson for grandfather, future citizen for government but all these relations dies when we die. All the relations were died when these people breathe out their lives. We are not lonely.” ?

“Again you are thinking only about male.” Radha said furiously.

“You say it in feminine manner. When boys speak in masculine it also consist feminine gender.

When woman will speak in the feminine gender we will consider it even in masculine gender.” I replied

“Damn it!! Hell with your argument. Isn’t it great that we are alive? To burry the dead we have to be alive so start your bike. Lets go” Ramya said.

We started the bikes and flew.

मित्रहो ,
अ डॉ हॉ का बा ना सु ना  ह्या माझ्या महाकृतीचा (हा शब्द आकाराच्या अनुषंगाने मी वापरतो ) बाईकनामा ह्या भागाचा प्रियंवदा नार्वेकर - पारकर ह्यांनी इंग्रजीत केलेला अनुवाद मी देत आहे आशा आहे कि तो तुम्हाला  आवडेल . ज्यांनी मूळ कृती वाचलेली नाही त्यांनाही हा भाग वाचायला आवडेल अशी आशा आहे . BAIKENAMA

                                 

BY

SHRIDHAR    TILVE

TRNSLATED

BY

PRIYANVADA NARVEKAR-PARKAR

                            

                              

CHAPTER 1:RIDING BIKE

                                                        

I don’t like four wheeler cars. Especially due to their windows, our vision gets boundaries and we are bound to see through the frame. It is same as watching the television. While seating in the car if we turn our head inside the car, whole car turns into the house. Sometimes I feel car is like an animal. It does have four legs like an animal! Only difference is animal can’t create a frame around it .So when you drive a car you will never get the feel of horse riding. Two wheeler or motor bikes are different. They are frameless, two legged animal like human beings.

I ride on bike as if we ride on woman. Handles are like women’s legs, if you hold them properly then woman will be under your control.

 Radha says my thoughts are chauvinistic. But I never take her opinion seriously. I just want to say to her that when you ride on a bike assume bike as your  man. Which gender you want to search in the bike depends on your gender and which gender are you searching for.

Radha seated on the backside of my motor bike and we were about to fly. But as usual we argued about who will drive the bike.

I said,” I am going to drive”

She said, “I want to drive”

I said, “It’s my bike so it’s my right to drive it.”

She said, “Your father gave you money to purchase this bike so you are saying it’s yours. But who gave the money to your father? He got the money from male-dominated society. I am deprived from the bike because power of productivity and purchase are in your hand i.e. in men’s hand. So I don’t have a motor bike. If you say you are a supporter of feminist movement then you should give me the motor bike to drive so that you can requite the unfairness of males.”

I said,” O, this is emotional blackmailing! This is an intellectual argument. My father never said to your father to not to make money…but your father is happy in clerical job!

He didn’t have the guts to buy the bike so he didn’t get the bike under his ass. And one thing I purchased this bike with my own money.”

She became pale. She got irritated and said,” If you wanted to talk in such abusing language then better you go alone.”

I was not in a mood to give the lecture on language so I shut my mouth.

It was just wasting of time. Then I thought if she doesn’t come let her not to come why I should butter her.

I said,  “This is the last time I am asking to you. Are you coming with me?”

“No.” she said

“Fine…go to hell …..I just asked because you are my girlfriend.”

When I kicked the bike and started moving she called me back…

“What now?’’ I asked.

She seats on the motor bike.

“Where has gone your feminism?” I asked.

“Feminism has gone in the donkey’s ass.” She laughed

Wrathfully she seated on my motor bike and I flew in the air like victorious Napoleon.

In our area roads were very congested. Though our Meera-Bhayandar area is near to Mumbai we are always face a problem of shortage of water. Where government is ignorant about water there who will take care of roads? So motor biking is no more enjoyable .Same roads!! all are turning towards Gorai. But trees are plenty here!! So I was taking left or right turn in between to take a wide feel of jungle. Crowd is rare on this street. But streets were crowded in the downtown. Driving a bike is like grazing your cattle in the field. Here you will be accompanied by calmness. Trees are calm, people are calm as if all are sure that God is about to arrive. People are different than people in Mumbai. They are not in hurry. Most of them are fishermen, bhandaries or aagry. There are lots of Christians also.

In the morning I came out with my bike and called Radha. I said to her that I am going towards Gorai. She said, “I will come”. I wanted to go alone today but she insists that even she wants to come. Actually I wanted to go alone but how to refuse her and the reason which she has told me was very strange. Her father has come with one proposal. Guy was a doctor and running hospital in Uran. And she wanted to see his practice so at last I came to Vivekanand Chowk . I met her and as usual we argued about who will drive the motor bike and we started our trip to Gorai.

“Are you going to see that boy?” I asked

“I don’t want to see that boy but I wanted to see his practice.” , She said.

“That’s all in same….”

“Both the things are different not the same”

“Why would you get marry with him? What is more important FOR YOU ? His personality or his practice?

“Generally doctors have personality”

“It’s not necessary. What will you do if he doesn’t have personality?”

“Let me see him first”

I folded my lips. I don’t want to argue with her. We are going to living in the 21^st century and here RADHA THE GREAT is going for arrange marraige. What a social fuck! I find arrange marriages strange and hopeless. Radha is going to become a part of it. Our social system does not allow love marriages. If one wishes love marriage it wouldn’t be possible for him/her to do so.

Actually Radha was in love with one guy called Vinod. But I don’t know what happened to their relationship. I never asked her about him and she never told me. It was an agreement in our friendship not to discuss about Vinod. Since ten years we are keeping that agreement. We came near police station. As usual two- three trucks came in my way. There is a vegetable market near police station. Roads are always crowded with trucks to transport these vegetables which always causing the problem of traffic jam.  

Today traffic was so heavy that I was constantly changing the gears. Later I stopped behind one huge truck. Vegetables were descended from truck. Damn it! It would become afternoon if we take half an hour here. What kind of fun I am going take in the afternoon at beachside!!! And this foolish Radha! If police would see us together at beach side then definitely he would suspect and would assume that we are having affair. He will think girl on bike is definitely for sex. So he will whistle purposely. Oh God! I don’t have the license. How long am I going to use my father’s credit? He will leave because of my father’s credit.

I lost my patience & frowned at Sardarji.

“Oye, Sardarji, hurry up”

“Take a left turn yaar. It’s a bike it will go easily”

“I wanted to go from the middle”

“Then go to hell”

I got irritated. He is in the middle of the way and showing me teeth!!   

“Radha get down” I said

But she was not ready to listen. I became more louder.

“Let me show him that I am Maharashtrian”

“You are creating a scene” she said like other cultured women.

“Get down”, I said in very firm voice.

She got down and I stood before Sardarji.

“How dare you to say this to me!! You go to hell dam it!! Now I will show you how you will go there!!” I said

Meanwhile cleaner came. May be he realized who I am. He was Bhaiya.

He said to me , “Jane do na sab!!”

“Why should I leave him…Sala, ek to is haathi ko bich me khada kiya hai aur upar se dadagiri ?”

Sardarji became puzzled. Even he lost his patience

“Dadagiri kon kar raha hai tu ki mai. ? You can take a left turn to take out your bike. You are not ready to do this so. And…….”

“Why should I take a left? This road is not only for the trucks. Even motor bike riders have a equal rights to drive their bikes on the road. Why should every time bike do the adjustment? Why should not you move your truck?”

“Does there is any space to move?’

At that vary moment I heard the whistle. Sardarji's  face has suddenly changed.

I asked, “Oye Sardarji, don’t you have the license?”

And suddenly I remembered that even I don’t have the license. My heart has shaken. I rushed to the motor bike. Radha seated. I kicked the motor bike and ran away searching the place to move from the gathered crowd. I flew away before the police pay any attention.

“Sardarji will come in trouble now.” I laughed like anything.

I started to enjoy the feel of the motor bike. Density of the bike’s feel increases when you put challenge before someone. Then bike swings like sword in the war. I was deeply engrossed in spiritual feel of bike and suddenly she whispered,

“Why did you fight?”

“With whom?”

“With that Sardarji”

“Khaj Bhagvayala”

She remained silent. Generally women don’t like such language or she is agreed with my answer so she shut her mouth. I asked,

“What is the name of that boy whose marriage proposal you got ?”

“Ranjeet Kamble.”

“Ok, He belongs to your caste, right?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then?’

“He is Mahar.”

“Which caste do you belong?”

“By caste I am Mang”

“Does Mahar-Mang marry each other?”

“Umm.. No…They don’t marry each other. But I don’t have any problem.”

 “What about your father?”

“No he doesn’t. In that way he is modern.”

“Ok, that’s good.’’

“Which caste do you belong?”

“I don’t like to tell my caste.”

“Why do not you like to tell?”

“If you tell your caste you will become a supporter of castism.”

“Why did you ask my caste then?”

“I knew it so I asked “

“What!!!”

“Since long time we know each other. It’s not difficult to identify your caste.”

“Who told you about my caste?”

“Your father told me.”

“When did he tell to you?”

  

“I had one friend. I never asked him his caste. But when I told his name to your father he immediately identified his caste. He told me to ask him for your marriage proposal.”

“Ok, how brilliant our fathers are!! If we ignore our castes they will deliberately come on caste.”

“All this happened because you never fall in love. If you would be in love you would not find such questions.”

She remained silent. Then I remembered I have started a wrong subject. Because of caste Vinod and Radha might be split. I didn’t know Vinod’s caste but now it becomes important to me. I thought may be Vinod is very orthodox. He must have been left her when he came to know that Radha is Mang. Damn it,Vinod is really brutish. Caste!! Dam nit!  When will this huge truck move? I speed up my bike.

I remembered that we were having Fiat when I was small. Me, my sister, mother and our father used to take a long drive in our Fiat. We had gone without driver for most of the time.

Our family was Small family, happy Family. We won’t allow any outsider in our car. Color of Fiat would have been changed but number would be the same. When father used to sit for the driving my mother used to look at him very proudly. She would assume him as Amitabh Bacchan or Vinod Khanna. My mother knows how to drive a car but she never drove. I always feel that windows of Fiat are like frame and we were watching the world outside through these frames. My father didn’t have the guts to enter in the jungle of Gorai. He had told us that thieves and dacoits are staying in that jungle. We do believe him as he is our father.

One huge truck came from front and my family thoughts got stuck. Damn it!! These trucks are always dominating on roads.  Sala, someone should break this monopoly. 

 My father had two trucks which he used to give on rent. My father and Radha’s father was working in the same office. In construction line government will ask so many formalities several times they will interrupt your work and before we start any work we would have to ask their permission. My father had taken full advantage of this and then entered in the construction line. Meera Bhayandar area had been under construction at that time. Father had captured the market and settled down in this business. Now we are possessing fiat, truck and bungalow!!  He had snatched away the lands of Aadivasies.

I was totally against it. I argued with my father in the morning about entering in his business.  I firmly said to father that I don’t want to enter in this field. He shivered. He argued, quarreled and then I take out my motor bike and came for long drive. While coming he kept his hand on my helmet so that I couldn’t move out. But I left without helmet.

I said, “Hell on the helmet. I was moving without license now I will move out without helmet.” In between Radha joined me.

 Essel World’s line gets started. Maruti cars are passing in the line.

“Where are they coming from?”, Radha asked.

“They are coming from Essel World.”

“Oh! So many cars are these!!”

“Ya”

“All are seems tired.”

“They are returning after celebrating week end.”

Suddenly cars started to move to the left side. Red light cars were approaching from the front . It was a death procession. I saluted the death procession of that politician.

Whose dead body is this?

Mr.Sharad Pawar.

Whose dead body is this?

Someone’s, anyone’s.

Whose dead body is this?

For a while all cars started to move like dead bodies. All cars are dead. All red light cars have attempt a suicide and all cars are now empty. Their skulls are sullen. tya talu varche loni khanareloni khat aahet.

I joined my hands to salute that dead body and I lost my control. But it was late. Our bike came in front of one Minister’s car. His car has stopped making a cracking sound.  I thought driver is very skillful. He turned his car on the left and immediately stops the car. I and Radha collapsed on the road. Police start to scream. Radha gets up. I got small scratches as speed was slow. Radha saved because of sari but her sari tore at down. My jean was safe. On right side my T-shirt got torn. I get up. Meanwhile Minister got down from the car. I have seen him for several times on T.V. so I recognized him immediately. He didn’t recognize me as he never saw me on T.V. . He seems very irritated.  I had committed myself that I will not use my father’s contacts.

“Sir, you please go. We will see this boy.” said the police Commissioner.

Minister looked at me politically. Even I pass solid look to him.

“Sir, Commissioner will look into this matter. We are already late for the meeting.’’

his secretary told to him.

“What is your name?” Commissioner asked.

“Mr.Anil Shaligram”, I read the name on his uniform.

“I asked your name not mine.” He said.

“I don’t want to tell my name.’ I said.

He gets confused with this answer. Two reporters arrived. Environment suddenly changed. One reporter came with camera. Reporters were belonging to big channel. They have kept a watch on Minister. “Something is wrong”, Minister thought.

“Leave him Commissioner, young blood!! They behave in such way. And you drive your bike properly. Today you are saved,” said the Minister.

“You are responsible for all this mess.” I replied.

“Pardon me”, He

“I had joined my hands to salute you and I lost my control and came under your car.”

Minister pleased with this sentence.

“Listen, his purpose was good. Leave him. Yes, you young lady, what is your name?”

Minister asked.

Radha shuts her mouth. Minister came to know that we are not ready to tell our names. He left.

“But sir”, Commissioner whispered.

“Leave him commissioner. His bike came in between. Common man’s bike, young blood’s bike……Media will hype this news. They will print the news in other way.  We will come in trouble,” said the Minister.

Commissioner got the political explanation of the Minister.

“Leave him”, for the first time Commissioner said humanly.

I started a bike Radha seated and we fly.

First time I drove the bike with my friend Mahesh. But bike had created a great appeal on me when I had seen Mad Max!! Bikes in Mad Max were one of the favorite subjects for us and violence in that film was the subject of criticism. Zooming bikes were really amazing and we had seen this movie for several times just to see those bikes. In those days such bikes were rare in India. Bullet was known as ‘fatfati’ in the rural places and was my favorite bike. But it is very huge. In the village sons of sugarcane factory owner drives it so badly that my father considered it as sign of land lordship. Later my father has transferred to Mumbai and entered in the construction field.

My father refused to give me a bike when I asked it for the first time.

“Why do you want a bike? We do have Fiat and two traxes at home.” Father said.

“What is the use of your cars? Fiat is an old model. Not a single girl will turn to me if I take it. Not a single girl will turn to you unless you have the Suzuki.”

      

 My father has ignored me. Then I earned some money with the help of my friend and took some loan. I bought a bike. Father felt ashamed when he came to know this and paid all the installments. He did this to show that he had given a Suzuki to his son.  

We always argue about Suzuki. He says I gave the money so its mine. I say I bought it so its mines. For the sake of prestige you paid the installments, otherwise I would have paid the installments. Father frowns when he hears this.

“Your money is debt on me. I will return it in the installment.” I said

“Okay, absolutely fine.” Father said.

So I worked as an estate agent and in the first week of first month I gave the first installment to my father.

“That’s enough. My debt is over.” After taking the first installment my father said to me.

“How come it’s over?” I asked.

“At last you entered in my field. That is enough.”

“I became estate agent but I never entered in your field.”

“Estate agents do enter in the construction field so you too will enter soon in this field. We will make a multiple  profit when you will come in this field. Population will be growing in our country and demand for the houses will also be increasing. So future is bright in this field.”

He said and passed a villainous laugh and went in the mother’s room.  At the vary moment I decided not to enter in this corrupt field.

Due to the motor bike I have taken the decision not to enter in his field. My decision was firm.

 Motor bike has come in my hand and I stopped to watch foolish serials on television. Second thing which I noticed is motor bike has more inebriation than the computer. So I called it as a   ‘double baricha ghoda’. I enjoyed bike ride instead of playing cards on the computer.

In the one sense bike has destroyed the frame of television and computer. I stopped to see in the frame and start watching frameless world.  Now trees don’t remain steady. They became speedy and fractional. There is big difference between change in the picture on television and on bike. I noticed this and I rediscovered myself. We become steady while we seats in front of computer and television. You become speedy when you ride on bike. You don’t remain you and I don’t remain I. whole world swings with you.

Bike gave motion to my life. Earlier to me bike was just a medium to impress the girls. But later I came to know that we can impress not only girls but also women. If you do have a bike and your friend doesn’t then take his wife for a ride for three or four times and see she will definitely falls in love with you. When I purchased the bike I came to know that bike is much similar to woman.

I roam with the girls. My mother doesn’t like this. She thinks I take advantage of these girls though I never initiate in misconduct. Girls usually bite my ear when they seat back on my bike. Even I was waiting for this moment and then I start till the end. My first step was to stop to drink thumps up or Pepsi, second step, in the night stop for bear.  Girls become high when they drink bear and feel free for whatever they wish to do in their secret minds. One kiss on cheek, another on lips and then slowly they will come down.

I try to convince my mother that I never touch any girl without her permission but she is never convinced. She thought I would give promises of marriages to them.  In fact I never give false commitments. My views are very clear. If you want a sex I too want it. Then let’s enjoy the sex.  Let’s not involve in each other. I am very outward and straight so many girls dumped me. Many of them are my good friends. I never touched them. Radha is one of such good friends. She knows my philosophy so she never involved in me nor do I.

When she seats on my bike I am sure about no one will bite my ear. So when she is with me I take a halt only when she needed. Even now my bike was in full speed.

“Drive slowly” she said.

I slow down my speed. Two authors came between our ways as if cat would cut your way.  Something was happened to their fiat. Radha knew them. They have program in our city. I never liked such programs. Radha always talks about books. She talked about one book named ’Kosala’ . She told me to read that book. I read it but I didn’t like it. I was shocked to know that Radha liked it. Radha called them as ‘sathotari pidhi’. In these four-five months she was talking about Nativism. Even I read about it but I never convinced with the ideas. The reason why I don’t like such views was one girl. I spoke at least for five minutes about Nativism to one girl but she got boar and said,

“Please start the music of A.R.Rahman and stop your noncense Nativism..” I said goodbye to my Nativism and put A.R.Rahman’s record. She takes off her cloths while listens the songs. She enjoyed my universal body and left.

Radha told me to stop the bike. “He is very famous Marathi writer. In his poems he searches the life through the sex.” She introduced a shorter author.

 He felt awkward with this introduction. One thought flashed in my mind. What does he do? Does he have a sex with many women? Does he allow his wife to do sex with many men? First option may be appropriate if we consider the psyche of Indian men’s. Would marathi writer permit his wife to do sex with many men? How would he search life through sex?

“What happen to your car sir?” Radha asked.   

“I think something is wrong with my car.” Tall poet answered. He was post modernist.

“We don’t find any garage nearby.” He continued.

Car repairing was one of my favorite jobs so I came near the car and asked,

“Whose car is this?”

“Mine” postmodernist said.

“Which year have you purchased it?” I

“1970” Postmodernist

I checked the car. It was very simple problem. One wire of engine was broken and I fixed it. I took the car in reverse gear. It started.

“Thank you very much.” Postmodernist said.

“It’s okay.”  I said and came near to the bike.

Radha doesn’t want to move.

“Radha madam please leave now your would be husband may be waiting for you at Uran.” She became panic with this statement. She said goodbye to them and seated on my bike. I saluted to postmodernist Marathi poet who doesn’t know how to repair a car.     

 I kicked the bike. After some time I realized that we are not communicating much. I asked to Radha,

“Are you angry on me?”

“Who am I to get angry?”

I stopped the bike and asked,

“What do you said?”

“This is your bike. You are driving it who am I to stop you?”

“Did you want to talk to those authors?”

She said nothing. I understood that she wanted to talk to them. I drove the bike in my thoughts.  I started to reverse the bike. Radha frowned, “What are you doing?”

“I want to fulfill your incomplete wish. I will catch them within five minutes. Both are old fellows. They will drive slowly we will catch them in five to six minutes.”

“No, I don’t want to go back. You said so that’s enough.”

“But, then…..”

“Why do you compel all the time? I don’t want to meet them.”

“Why do you look so angry?”

“It’s because the look which you had given to them.”

“What was there in my look?”

“Your behavior was so insulting which I didn’t like.”

“But listen….”

“Leave this subject.”

She ended the subject in her way and I started to burst,

“Listen madam, I hate these artists. They always trouble you. When Industrial revolution took place they started anti-industrial revolution. They went back to the nature in the villages. They don’t have the guts to visit the industry and understand the technology. But they will search the beauty in the dance of Aadivasies.(rural tribes) One of my friends is  in the field of computer painting but still he does complains about computers. Now technology has entered in all the fields of arts. You are taking the advantage of it so why should we blame the technology? “

“What is the relation of your nonsense talk and your look?”  Radha asked.

“I read the novel ‘hai rao te rao’ of this postmodernist writer. What he wrote was already written by various western writers. Western writers speak about present world but your postmodernist writer’s world is like a balloon. You can’t call it as post-modernization. He has picked the technique of western world and bought it here. Even Tata and Birla do the same thing. They bring the technique of westerners and establish their business. This collaboration has worked out in our brainless industries. It will work out by the name of globalization but what about originality?”        

“What is the relationship between Art and Industrial events?” Radha

“We can not separate arts from industrialization. If industry is not original then how come arts would bear originality? Truly speaking all the artists especially Indian artists scared of technology.” I

“Not only artist but all Indians are scared of technology. I do scare of factories. I can’t stand there for few minutes.” Radha

“We put industrialization in a backward category. Knowledge comes under Brahmin category, weapons under Kshatriya, business under Vaishya and Industries comes under Shudra category. All the carpenters, blacksmiths and cobblers who belongs to the industry come under backward or shudra category. India has thousands of year’s legacies about caste system. How could we throw it suddenly?” I

I changed the gear of my bike. I always change the gear when I finish my speech. Radha knows this habit.

नितीशांचा विजय अपेक्षित होता मात्र ते एवढ्या सीट्स जिंकतील असे वाटले न्हवते  हा एकमेव जद नेता असा आहे जो विचारप्रणालीच्या पुढे जाऊन सुव्यवस्थापनाकडे वळला . ह्या निवडणुकीत त्याने कॅम्पेन गुरु आणून चौथ्या नवतेची चिन्ह तांत्रिकी वापरली आणि त्याचा फायदाही झाला . गेली कित्येक वर्षे हा नेता प्रांत वगैरे न पाहता भारतभरातून गुणी माणसे गोळा करून त्यांना बिहारच्या विकासासाठी वापरतोय आणि त्याची फळेही दिसतायत आता लालूप्रसाद यादवांनी त्यांचा कट्टर बिहारवाद आणला नाही म्हणजे मिळवले अन्यथा पुन्हा भांडण अटळ . मी त्यांचे मनापासून अभिनंदन करतो . ते कुशल नेते आहेत आणि बिहार आणखी पुढे न्हेतीलच . काँग्रेस नष्ट होणे ही मात्र चिंतेची बाब आहे . कुणी काहीही म्हंटले तरी हा शेवटी प्रादेशिक पक्षाचा विजय आहे . काँग्रेस जितक्या लवकर रिस्टोअर करेल तितके बरे अन्यथा ……

श्रीधर तिळवे 

दत्तादादा 

श्रीधर राजा तिळवे

दत्ता दादा गेला . तो जाणारच होता . गोव्यात त्याला भेटलो तेव्हा मृत्यू त्याच्याभवती फिरतोय अशी जाणीव सतत होत होती त्यामुळे ह्या फेरीत दुसऱ्यांदा भेटलो . ही शेवटची भेट आहे हे उमगून . मुंबईत आलो सुरेलला थोडासा सौम्य पण इशारेवजा मेसेज टाकला आणि अचानक त्याच्या आठवणींचे मळभ दाटून आले . संन्याशाला रडणे अलाऊ नाही म्हणून रडलो नाही . 

खरेतर आम्ही दोघेही गेले कित्येक महिने बेडरिडन . मी अपघाताने शरीर मोडून घेतलेले तर त्याला आतील एका अवयवाने असाध्यसा आजार चिकटवलेला त्यामुळे दुरून एकमेकांना पाहण्याखेरीज काहीच हातात न्हवते . फरक असलाच तर एक होता तो कुटुंबप्रेमी असल्याने गावात कुटुंबात होता आणि मी संन्यस्त असल्याने मुंबईत एकटा होतो . कुटुंबप्रेमी  आणि निर्वाणप्रेमी हा आम्हा दोघांच्यातला फरक कायमच राहिला आणि आम्ही दोघे कधीही भेटलो तरी ह्या गोष्टीवरून वाद झाला नाही असे झाले नाही . त्याच्या डोक्यात वैदिक संन्यासी फिट्ट बसला होता आणि शैव संन्यास समजून घेण्याची त्याची तयारी न्हवती . अगदी माझ्या वडीलांच्या मृत्युवेळीही वैदिक संस्कार करायचे कि नाही ह्यावरून वाद झालाच . तो वैदिक संस्कार करण्याच्या बाजूने होता आणि मी विरुद्ध ! घराच्या पाठीमागेच सनातनचे मुख्य ऑफीस असल्याने संपूर्ण गावावर सनातनची छाया वाढत चालली होती आणि त्याचे पडसादही उमटत होते शेवटी तो सहिष्णू असल्याने त्याने समजुतदारपणा दाखवत वाद संपवला . 

आमचे वाद रंगत आणि त्या वादात उमटून दिसायची ती त्याची शार्प लख्ख बुद्धिमत्ता ! तो जन्मजात बुद्धिमान होता आणि कष्टाळूही ! त्यामुळेच कोर्टात क्लार्कपासून सुरवात करून एकाचवेळी कष्ट आणि शिक्षण करत त्याने एल एल बी केले आणि तो वकील झाला . तो कामाला वाघ असल्याने अनेक कामे अंगावर घेई आणि आपल्या अंगभूत सळसळत्या उत्साहाने पुरीही करी . कुठल्याही गोष्टीचा कीस पाडत तिचा तळ गाठण्याची तिळव्यांची वृत्ती त्याच्यात भरपूर होती .  ह्या कष्टाळूपणामुळे  आणि  बुद्धीमत्तेमुळे पुढे फोंड्यात तो  नंबर १ वकील म्हणून स्थापित झाला . फोंड्यात माझी ओळख दत्ता तिळवेचा चुलतभाऊ अशीच होती आणि आहे . 

दिसायला तो देखणा न्हवता पण रुबाबदार होता . शरीरयष्टी मध्यम चणीची व उंचीची होती .  त्याची तिळव्यांची टिपिकल नागवंशीय पिवळी गव्हाळ त्वचा चमकदार होती नाक मोह्न्जोदडी मोठे पण ऐटदार तर डोळे तीक्ष्ण होते  . सर्वच तिळव्यांच्या प्रमाणे  त्या नाकावर रागही होता . त्याची देहबोली कमालीच्या  उत्साहाने भारलेली होती आणि चेहरा कायमस्वरूपी हसरा होता. हा हसरा आणि उमदा  चेहरा त्याच्या स्वभावाचे सार होता .  त्याला बघून मला नेहमीच वाटायचे कि ह्या माणसाला जगण्याचा कधीही कंटाळा येणार नाही .  

त्याचे माणसांच्यावर अफाट प्रेम होते . तो माणूसवेडाच होता . त्यामुळे असंख्य माणसे त्याने जमवली होती . वकील असल्याने गोव्याचे गुन्हेगारी जग त्याला आतून बाहेरून माहित होते . फोन्ड्यातल्या अनेकांना तो तपशीलवार ओळखून होता . 

त्याचे कौटुंबिक आयुष्य सुरवातीला थोडे खडतर होते . त्याच्या दत्तक प्रकरणात अनेक गोच्या झाल्याने लहानपणी एक वेगळाच आयडेय़्ण्ण्टीटी  क्रायसिस त्याला फेस करावा लागला आणि त्याचे दु :ख कित्येक वर्षे त्याचा पाठलाग करत होते आईबाप असूनही पोरका असे त्याला वाटत होते कि काय कुणास ठावूक ? पुढे आशा वहिनींच्या रूपाने त्याच्या सारखीच उमदी , हसरी ,प्रेमळ , शिस्तशीर , बुद्धिमान पण बुद्धिमत्तेचे प्रदर्शन न  करणारी , लाघवी स्वभावाची मुलगी त्याला बायको म्हणून मिळाली आणि आमच्या कुटुंब कबिल्यातील सर्वोत्कृष्ट जोडपे म्हणून दोघांचा उदय झाला . आशा वहिनीने त्याला केवळ सांभाळले नाही तर  त्याच्या आयुष्याला नीट जमिनीवर ठेवले . आयुष्याच्या उत्तरार्धात त्याला पैसा , यश आणि प्रतिष्ठा अश्या तिन्ही गोष्टी मिळाल्या आणि त्याच्या काळजातले अनेक सल हळूहळू नाहीसे होउन तो एक कुटुंबप्रेमी गृहस्थ झाला अर्थातच त्याचे बाहेरचे ध्यान मात्र कधी कमी झाले नाही 

आमच्या नागेशी बांदिवडे गावात आमच्या रवळनाथाच्या मंदिराभवती तिळवे आणि नाईक असे आम्ही सर्वच एकत्र जगतो . एखाधा आदिवासी कम्युन जसा एकत्र जगतो तसे आम्ही शेकडो वर्षे एकत्रच जगतोय पूर्वी तर अनेकदा आपापसातच लग्न करायचो आत्ता लग्न करणे कमी झाले असले तरी जगणे एकत्र चालूच आहे सांभाळणे चालूच आहे . दादाला ह्या कम्युन विषयी प्रचंड प्रेम आणि जिव्हाळा होता आणि आपण सर्वांनी मिळून हा कम्युन टिकवायला हवा असे त्याला वाटत होते आणि मी ह्या कम्युनमध्ये आधिक मिसळायला हवे असे त्याला वाटे . त्याची ही अपेक्षा मी कधीही पुरी करू शकलो नाही . नवीन पिढी हा कम्युन टिकवेल कि नाही असा प्रश्नही अलीकडे त्याला पडायला लागला होता . त्याने आयुष्यभर हा कम्युन सांभाळला . एका अर्थाने तो केवळ माझाच नाही तर संपूर्ण कम्युनचाच दादा होता आणि सर्वांचा अडीअडचणीच्यावेळी  आधारही ! 

आत्ता तो गेलाय आणि मी इथे मुंबईत बेडरीडन आहे . खरेतर त्याला इतक्या लवकर जायाचे न्हवते आणि तो इतक्या लवकर जाईल असेही कुणाला वाटले न्हवते पण कॅन्सरने त्याला गाठले आणि तो अचानक फास्ट दिसेनासा झालाय 

अगदी लहानपणापासून दत्तादादाशी माझा एक भावनिक बॉण्ड आहे मात्र संन्यासाचे पथ्य म्हणून एक अंतरही आहे आणि होते तरीही तो गेल्याचे दु : ख जीवघेणे आहे . माझ्या सध्याच्या स्थितीमुळे मी फार लांब जाऊ शकत नाही पण शक्य असते तरी मी गेलो असतो कि नाही हे सांगणे कठीण . कारण मृत्यूवर माझा विश्वास नाही किंबहुना मृत्यू नावाचे काही नाहीच आहे . आहे ते केवळ स्थलांतर वा रुपांतर !

मला खात्री आहे दादाने जिथे स्थलांतर केले असेल तिथेही त्याचा चेहरा हसरा आणि उमदाच असेल आणि जगण्याचा नवा उत्साह घेऊन तो सळसळत असेल . 

वो सूरज बनकर आया था हमारे जीवनमे 

वो जहाँभी  होगा चाँद बटोरता होगा 

राजा /श्रीधर तिळवे 

४६ श्रीधर / श्रीधर तिळवे 
Transcending digital 
Transcending fleshal 
Here I  am 
A digifleshal guy 
सर्वत्र  माझा पाय 
बूटेबल 
हार्मोनिअसली  फंक्शनल 
श्रीधर  तिळवे नाईक 
(क. व्ही . २  ह्या  काव्य फायलीतून )

५१ वटवण श्रीधर तिळवे 

मी माझ्या आत्मचरित्राचे तुकडे मांडत चाललोय 

मात्र ते तुम्हाला जसे हवे आहेत तसे नाहीत 

जसे असायला हवे आहेत तसे आहेत 

तुम्हाला चिंता पडलीये त्यांच्या सत्य-असत्याची 

आणि मला चिंता 

ग्वाही देणाऱ्या काल्पनिक मनाला 

संपूर्ण कसे नाहीसे करता येईल ह्याची 

तुम्ही मला फ़ेकॉलजिचा मास्टर समजताय 

आणि माझा गुन्हा हाच 

कि मी कुणाचा शिष्य झालो नाही 

तुम्हाला पूज्य तुमचे इझम्स , धर्म , अजेंडे , त्यांचे प्रवर्तक 

आणि मला पूज्य म्हणजे शून्य कसे ते जाणायची उत्सुकता 

मी असा मूर्तीभंजक आहे 

ज्याने फक्त मूर्त्या नाही फोडल्या 

प्रेषित फोडले ईश्वर फोडले 

स्वतःच्या घरातील देव्हारे फोडले 

तुम्हाला हवा आहे तुमच्या वाकवळणाप्रमाणे सही करणारा कवी 

आणि मी अवघ्या जगाचा राजीनामा देवून 

मूळ सोर्स वटवत चाललोय . 

(क व्ही २ ह्या काव्यफायलीतून )