What have we become?

Off the metro station and onto the footpath as I waited for an auto, this uncle came gliding by, asking “where to miss?”. The Rose in me wanted to reply “to the stars” but I was headed to my French class. At 7 on a Sunday morning, with some mellow English music, he observed me as I read the book in my hand, John Fowles’ The French Lieutenant’s woman. “You know, sorry to interrupt, but I read that book while I was in college, do you like it?” he announced amidst the roaring engine. “Oh yes, I am liking the characters and twists there are, do you still remember the story?”, I replied. “Not entirely but I remember a bit, and from other books as well... You know I was a literature student at Delhi University in the years 1983-86, back then there was perhaps a different curation of books, he continued. He could see the curiosity through the mirror and hence replied “oh! I am an auto-wala during the weekends, and through the week I teach English at a local school, earning as much as I can for a family of six. This is not a necessity, I can sit at home, read a book or few but it gets mundane, you know you need to step out of your bubble, do new things to keep the soul alive. Trying new things, meeting new people, perhaps getting to know them during our short conversations… We humans have never been the social beings we claim to be…” And here abruptly, off I went to my French class, him keeping up another passenger as he went by.

Here I am, running from class to class, scribbling in my little black book during the transit. For I have more stories to tell than to live in.

Photo credits: Instagram, Akash Chabbra