An Umbrella for you Mr. Sen !

Monday morning and the week began as usual. Most of the days in my rush to office I am on a conference call during the drive. This morning was no different. It was drizzling and Mumbai was just about waking up and getting ready to go to work. As I got connected to the conference,my driver eased the car onto Mori Road. This morning was special as I was going to meet an old friend from the UK on the way to work. 

Engrossed in the call, I was unmindful as we pulled up at the red light near Mori Road. A light tap on my window. A familiar face. Wrinkled with age, a toothless grin, her “pallu" over hear head, holding a walking stick made with a makeshift bamboo. She had been a part of Mori Road for years, and in all my years of growing up, I never thought she looked any different. It was as if her look was timeless and to me she must have been born old. 

More recently, to give her an identity, I had christened her “Khokoner Maa” (Khokon’s mother) given that she usually has a little boy around her. I waved her on, like I usually do on many occasions. Usually she walks on, but this time she persisted. Another tap. The red light was taking more time than usual. I urged my driver to inch ahead, so that she would get the hint and move on. But she stepped up with the car. And then tapped the window in quick succession. I had to take care of this. I hit “Mute” and rolled down the window. Before I could express my irritation, she said “Can I have that umbrella please?” 

Now this was a strange request, something that I had never experienced in all my years in Mumbai. I looked at the umbrella. It was gifted to me by my company, a folding umbrella, white in colour with our logo printed on it impressively in blue and green.”No” I said, prompted by years of habit in refusing such requests. Finally the lights turned green, and as we were about to move, she smiled and said “ God Bless you son”. 

My car left the traffic lights behind. The connection for the call had dropped. Somehow, I did not want to dial back in. It was still drizzling. “She must be getting all wet in this rain” I thought. The sight of the umbrella started to torment me. Every time I looked at it, I saw her face instead. 

We had traveled a bit. “Make a U turn” I asked my driver. “I want to go back to the signal for a moment” I said. My driver has never held me in high regard but this time, he looked at me as if he had nailed it. “We will be late for office sir, too much traffic, and you have to meet someone on the way.” he said. “Just do it and we will make it quick”. I said.

We reached the red light again. Khokoner Maa did not see us, but I could see her tapping another car window ahead of us. “Go call her” I said to my driver. This time he looked at me as if I was from another planet. “Do it” I commanded. He obeyed and she hobbled over. I rolled down my window and gave her the umbrella. No words said, We looked at each other for a moment and as the window rolled up, we waved at each other instinctively.

“Fast, fast, I don’t want to keep the him waiting” I yelled at my driver. “Yes sir, I will drive like James Bond” he said. And so we sped off. I arrived, somewhat late. Parthoda was waiting for me. He was from the UK and a close friend. “Sorry Parthoda, got held up with the traffic” I said. 

We caught up on the years gone by and as the meeting came to an end, he said “I have something for you, which I hope you will not find strange.” With that, Parthoda pulled out a gleaming black full length umbrella. The handle was made of rich wood, polished exquisitely, the cloth top quality and looked regal, almost royalty. “Well, an umbrella for you Mr. Sen !! This is from one of the oldest umbrella makers in England. Many famous people have used their umbrellas.”. For a long time I stared at Parthoda and then at the umbrella. “You are looking at me like an owl. I hope you like it” he said. “I cannot tell you how fascinated I am with this gift. You made my day” I said.

As I got home in the evening Mori Road was lit up again. The Navratri pandal opposite my balcony was decked up and there was an air of excitement. Maa Durga was expected to arrive any moment. 

From my window I saw Khokoner Maa and the little boy, huddled under the umbrella shielding themselves from the light drizzle, waiting to welcome Maa Durga. In the distance I could now hear the bands strike up their tune. The flags were waving. Maa Durga had entered Mori Road. 

Against the wall, my new black umbrella was leaning, looking rather majestic. I reached out and held it. Stretching out to my full height, for a moment it almost felt like royalty. 

However, soon my royal stupor was disturbed by a loud burst of crackers. Maa had finally arrived. At Mori Road, like every year, the magic was back in the air. It was the evening before Mahalaya. 

The next morning, I welcomed the sunrise with the chants of the Chandi. “Get ready, we have to go to the temple. And where did you get that umbrella?” my wife asked. Notwithstanding her surprised and inquisitive look, I said “ Exchange offer dear. Anyways, now let’s go and seek some divine blessings. It’s an auspicious day. You never know, it’s that time of the year when miracles can happen.” 

Happy Mahalaya and have a great Pujo folks !! And open those windows when you hear someone knocking. You never know !