Monday, March 01, 2015.
Staying late in office is like a normal habit now. It was almost 11:30 PM when I finished my onsite call and started back home. There is only one good thing of staying late in Hinjewadi - you don't face deadly traffic.
Nothing unusual on that day too. Indica Taxies are running like killing machines, few people here and there, either waiting for local transport or next killing machine etc. I crossed my phase 3 circle where "Helipad" is written, I never saw any helicopter landing there though. But today I saw a bicycle there, standing alone. Who, on earth is actually keeping bicycle in middle of the field and left? I rushed by accelerator and suddenly an old man came on the road. I pushed the breaks with all the energy I have and my tiny Wagon R without ABS managed to stop somehow. He was looking pretty old, starting eighties. white cloths and topi (cap). Even though old, he could easily walk with good speed. His eyes has anger too. Not sure on whom he is angry on. But I was more angry than angry birds now. All Marathi abusing words filled my mind with shouting voice but considering age of the person, I managed to keep shut. I drove beside him and asked in Marathi - of course in anger
"Oh Kaka.. Pahun chalta yet nahi..?" - 'Oh Uncle, can't you watch and walk?'
But he was not interested in my anger. He came beside and said.
"Bhaurao Patil..! rahayla aaloy.. jaga majhi haay.." - 'My name is Bhaurao Patil. I came to stay.. this place is mine.
I got irritated, but considering mental situation of old man, I decided to let it go. Closing my windows, I moved my car smoothly on empty Hinjewadi road.
Thinking about old man, I tried to see him in Mirror. He was not there. I could see his bicycle though. I crossed wipro circle and turned towards Bhumkar chowk where Hawaldar was stopping cars. This is pretty common in Hinjewadi as these Taxi drivers looted few of employees recently. But police never stops private vehicle. Passing through all check posts I saw Prakash crying near a police car. He was standing near police van, crying asking something. Police was throwing him off, ignoring him. Prakash was cab driver in my company. He picked me up many times. I know him personally. He might be out of money, that might be the reason police was not allowing him to go. I felt very bad and I stopped the car on sidewalk.
I walked to Prakash, but he didn't recognize me. Actually he was not even looking at me. Prakash's memory wasn't that bad, he is almost 45 now but he is very punctual and disciplined guy. Also a very safe driver. It was just a month before he picked me at 2 PM in afternoon. He can't forget me that soon.
Just to check the situation, I asked police whats the matter with Prakash. Hawaldar said,
"Nothing." in irritated tone. "He has all documents, but he asking us to come with him. He is not telling where and why. "
This was really strange. I went to him again. I stood in front of him so that he cant ignore me. I asked him what happened. He was not saying anything. Suddenly he stood and started walking towards his car. He started his car and rushed very fast.. I was aware he is out of his mind. Prakash is not a rash driver, but the way he started was too dangerous. I immediately got into my car and started following him. But he just went about 100 meters and stopped. I also stopped behind him and walked upto his door. He was looking upwards, with tears in his eyes. I just tried to see what he is looking at.. It was a huge hording at side of road. When I saw that hording.. I sat down doing nothing.. tears in my eyes, I was shivering.
Hording was say .. "Shri. Bhaurao Patil yanche Trutiy Punyasmaran" - "Shri Bhaurao Patil's Third Death Anniversary" with a Photo I can't forget. Th exact same old man with bicycle. A voice in air rustled in my ears : "Bhaurao Patil..! rahayla aaloy.. jaga majhi haay.." - My name is Bhaurao Patil. I came to stay.. this place is mine.
