After having a great dinner, I, Sanjya and Satish Anna started to walk down the main road of Mahalingpur. Cracking some random jokes, judging and trolling people,we walked along laughing. An old lady was coming our way carrying a huge basket. She was in her rags and by the look of her, anyone could have mistaken her for a vagrant, like we did. When she was near us, Satish anna approached her extending his hands with some coins. In a humble tone she said, "I'm a vegetable vendor and on my way to my home. I don't take money". It was awkward to have done to that. Anna asked her sorry and pulled out a short conversation with her.
After the brief chat that followed, we learnt that, she lives alone in the outskirts and daily comes to the market early in the morning with a load of vegetables. She seemed to be in her late 60s. She has no family. Her marriage was a wreck and though she was from a good family, she never thought of going back thinking about her family reputation. The place she lived was around 2 to 2.5 kilometers away from the market and she carried a weight of 25 to 30 kg daily. Though we felt sorry for her, her resolute attitude had left us awestruck. Hers was one such face you can't easily forget.
Briefly after the above incident, we started cooking in our room as we got a gas connection. Our ‘cooking’ involved mostly preparing pulav. Dal rice and egg rice were brought into action occasionally to break the monotony. The cooking demanded a new task of visiting the market regularly for vegetables. Usually Sanjya and me went to the market. During the errands to fetch vegetables we encountered the old lady many times. We deliberately went to her to buy lemons and coriander thinking some extra money from us would help her. Sometimes we used to insist her to take the extra money, but she used to deny it whatsoever. Even if she had no change, she forced us to take a bunch of coriander or the lemon.
Our little trade would never settle without a random chat. It involved usual personal stuff about our natives, about the crops, climate and home. She told us how much the other traders are biased and have prejudices against her. How the Mahalingpur town changed and about some random politics involved in the town.
One evening she became too curious about our cooking adventure. She asked what items we prepare, what ingredients we use and whether we have a gas connection. I don't know if it slipped out of her tongue or she said it jokingly. She said, if possible bring me pulav, let me have a taste of your food. In the flow I and Sanjya agreed. We promised her to bring her pulav, the next day noon. She told that she would be sitting in the same spot everyday till evening and we can come there anytime.
Next day noon around 2 o'clock, cursing the the scorching heat, I and Sanjya walked to the market. The old lady was not there at her usual place. We searched for her for sometime then enquired with others. No one had a clear clue. Then we found someone sleeping near a closed shop who looked like the old lady. There was a basket of vegetables. We were hesitant to approach her initially as she was sleeping facing the shutters of the shop and her face was covered with her saree. Sanjya took the initiative to break the awkwardness and approached her. He shook her and woke her up. He talked to her and gave her the tiffin box and a bottle of water. See welcomed it with a wide smile. We took a leave saying we would come in the evening.
In the evening we went to her to collect the tiffin box. She was thankful and happy. Also she didn't let us go empty handed, she insisted to take the carry bag in which she had packed something. There was a packet of Parle-G biscuits and some churmuri (puffed rice). It was such a magnanimous gesture. We were overwhelmed.
I don't want to call her economic state a misery but somehow I feel she is way too much virtuous and deserves better than a lonely life. She reminds me of that quote by the greatest unfortunate artist of all time, Vince van Gogh. “Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me".
(Title is borrowed from Maya Angelo's literary work. Maybe the old lady matches the frequency of Maya Angelo.)
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