Love On Credit Anyone?

N. Arunkumar *

I had the good fortune of celebrating a few precious moments of Holi, the festival of colours, with Peter, a French tourist whom I bumped in to on the streets of Guwahati. I was on my way to commemorate the festival with Ramesh and his petite wife Sitala at their little divine nest there.

Ramesh picked me up from my hotel room and we were cruising along gently, talking about this, that and the other with each other, when I chanced upon Peter, with a lovely smile on his face walking along alone on a street, with a Rajasthani pagree on his elegant head, which he immediately positioned on my head thereafter.

I bawled at him to stop and allow me to apply some colour on him, but he clearly refused to stop. Undeniably he was guarded about getting too close to locals like me, who could turn his otherwise pleasant trip into a nightmare. I understood his apprehensions instantly, and wanted to demonstrate that I would not let him suffer any such misfortune while I was with him.

Strangely, I jumped out of the car, even without informing Ramesh, who was rather laughing to see me running after Peter, in an instant like a kid running after his vagrant kite. Ramesh could not believe that I could actually do something like that. However, he reversed his car and followed me since I had gone quite a distance, chasing Peter.

I caught up with Peter after all, and protested that he had run away from me like on that day. Obviously it had hurt my pride that he had dared to run away from me, which might have made me run after him after all.

One thing was certain though, he had a charming smile on his face that refused to vanish even for a moment. He told me that he was going away hastily from me, simply because he did not want any more colours on his face as he was obviously not used to anything like the festival of colours that he saw here. I presumed that the intensity with which the festival was being celebrated there was certainly a novelty to his French milieu.

But, I determined to give him another sort of experience with me as his enforced guide. In fact, I agree that I imposed myself on Peter, and tagged him along with me to my friend Ramesh's house, even without Ramesh's permission, though.

Fortunately, Ramesh is also an extrovert, who thinks in a healthier manner than me often and is very practical about life, except when it comes to his dignity. Ramesh won't tolerate any violation of his dignity, from relatives or friends. Thus, we both took Peter under our wings, though Peter was vigilant in the beginning about our intentions, and he was perfectly justified in his cautious approach to the two of us.

Both of us took Peter along too, to Sitala and Ramesh's mother, who were waiting to serve me lunch and also take blessings from me. They looked rather amused to see a foreigner with us at the time, unannounced. They had not expected to entertain an alien in their house on Holi, impromptu like that.

In fact, the lunch they had planned was only with me in mind and the Frenchman Peter was most definitely a innovation then. But, I must admit that Sitala rose to the ocassion and welcomed this alien so warmly, which perhaps took even Peter by surprise.

The element of surprise means that Ramesh and Sitala immediately took my blessings in the traditional humble way that Hindu convention has earmarked for us. Elders are sacrosanct even today, in spite of avant-garde outlooks in many houses, and Ramesh and Sitala follow the traditional pattern to the tee.

When they took my blessings, which I gave them with complete surrender to their respect for me, I caught Peter looking on with incomprehension. He was perhaps wondering about this part of the festival. I told Peter that the young take the blessings of the elderly in this fashion, and then asked him his age.

He stunned me by informing me that he was a young sixty five. I was shocked, because all along I had presumed that he was perhaps as old as me, in my very early fifties. I told him that in such a case he should also bless me like my young friends had taken blessings from me.

Peter immediately obliged and took part in the blessing ceremony with me. He blessed me. Then Ramesh and Sitala also performed the respectful gesture with Peter and it was a wonderful sight that we shall cherish till the end of our days on this planet.

We all had dinner together thereafter and parted from each other with lots of sweet memories that shall always inspire us about the universality of human bondage that unfortunately needs a festival and a chance encounter, to flourish.

If only we could have extended such little moments into our lives perpetually, the planet would have perchance seen lesser differences due to human limitations. We are universally joined by the power of love, a love that should look for no returns. A bank account that needs no opening or closing either!

It is just there, to encash when you desire, with just a smile on your face as the cheque book or debit card. Sorry, no plastic credit cards are accepted in the bank of love.

Thank you Pierre. H. Forestier, for giving us the pleasure of your universal bank account for a few divine moments. I cannot repay you for those moments materially, but I assure you my young man, you introduced me to the concept of the eternal traveller, in time and space, who brings hope to many like me.

I wish I could be like you, but then that shall never be. All of us have to adorn different shoes even if we walk on the same path. Finally, love should not be plastic, but should stem from deep within, spontaneously like a fountain of powerful greatness to sustain the divinity and universaliy of the human soul.

Seriously!