THE SERIOUSLY AMAZING PUNDIT

Often

No...no...

Many a time, from my negligible list of blog followers, I receive a very interesting question: Why is it that you aggressively blog for a month and then remain dormant for another? Do you search for motivation?

Yes... and no. Yes, because, the inner drive to write down a blog post requires some motivation for logging in and typing. No, because my world is full of stories. I do not have a photographic memory but, I have words...lots of words which are not Tharoor-ish, of course, but they can carry meanings for everyone.

Saying this, I can recall an incident of a pundit whom I had met at my previous place of residence, and developed a non-religious friendship with him. Yes, non-religious, because we talked of everything but religion. He would speak of humorous stories of his village where a person was named 'Patang' at his birth because his parents loved Kaka (Rajesh Khanna). A man named 'Aamram' went to sell mangoes to the daily market, and found a pot of gold coins near his mango trees. There was a beautiful lady who would visit his village during Ram Navami and play the role of 'Sita', and leave. She would not talk much to people. Later, after 3 years or so, people found out that the lady was actually a boy who was doing this to support his family of ailing father and three sisters. Often his stories were unreal, which he would reveal at the end of the tale. But, all of them had a taste of Indian-ness which can make any scriptwriter go gaga over them. All the while, it would seem real to me. I tried to delve into this man's level of intelligence. He could develop a story with such minute and realistic details that anyone would believe it to be true. I would tease him to write these stories and get them published. He would say that there was no higher form of peace than speaking the stories to friends and laugh together. It was like instant audience feedback, free from expectations and bias, he would say. 

My pundit had a habit of clapping his hands when excited. The temple would echo with his claps and our sounds of laughter. Often, he talked of the lands which he had traveled in his life, how frauds through the language of 'gods' cheated the illiterates and the poor. He said that he was once approached by a gang of so-called 'baba's to join them and earn by cheating people. He refused, and left that place because it was turning into a mess.
He cooked the best halwa. On fourth Sunday of every month, he would cook gajar ka halwa, and we would have them together in the evening at around eight o'clock. On asking where he had learnt the recipe, he would say, "Let some things remain secrets. Otherwise, people will say that I am not an interesting person. You focus on eating, and do not try to be an archaeologist now." Saying this, we would laugh heartily. I mean, the way he spoke, there was a flavor of sweet humor, and that is what I have preserved for my life.
Pundit Ji was an amazing person. I remember the way he sat on the third or fourth step of the temple, and spoke stories with a glow on his face. Often I would wait for the day to end so that I could know another story from him. I didn't have frustrating days back then, because anything discouraging was neutralized by the old man's tales.  

The art of Pundit Ji bringing together different stories of life makes me wonder how the interpretation of intelligence is limited to professions. Intelligence is beyond professional excellence and smart tricks. Although these may define a bit of it, yet it is not exhaustive. It may exist in the minutest of a man's behavior and art. For me, the pundit was intelligent because he looked into life in the simplest manner. He built simple rules for himself, and one prime rule: never hurt anyone in any way. That was the biggest lesson for me.

And, just as he would want it, everything I have written in this blog post is not true. There was no Pundit Ji. But there are people who can sum up to become one!