The Road to Triveni: Memories in September

 The road to Triveni is not one I would have normally taken. But there was some magic in that moment, in that month, and in my company. It was then that I was really walking into uncharted territories, and boating through previously "untasted" waters. But I had two lovely friends, who made it all the more enjoyable. Probably the most memorable afternoon, last September. 

Why do I demarcate and designate this one afternoon as separate from every other warm and sunny (read, even scorching hot) afternoons that I have spent walking alone in the Central Secretariat? Every other time, It is a personal delight for me to get down the metro, come out of the wrong gate, gaze for a while or two at the roadside dargah, and then taking a walk to my second home at Delhi, the National Museum (you never knew I am so weird, right?) These are things I have never shared with many people.

But this afternoon was different. I had two dear friends; we had taken a cab (sometimes, spoilt brats of loving parents do that) , though our destination was the same! Yes, I was taking my friends (poor they!) to the National Museum on a hot September afternoon. I literally dragged them. But as the events unfolded after that, I could never know from before.

One of my friends suggested about Triveni Café. We were all very hungry, and we could still spend a penny on food. Our famished souls searched for affordable food. I had never heard of Triveni before. It is a very popular place among Dehlavis, I was told. The name sounded interesting where three friends meet? Thus, we set off. We took an autorickshaw. Our driver bhaiya was very very kind, and very engaging. Some other day I will talk about some of the driver bhaiyas I have got to meet in Delhi, and what wonderful humans they are. Suffice is to say, the road to Triveni that day was filled with pearls of wisdom dropped by our dear bhaiyaji, and his lessons on life. How to be happy with a simple life, and how a smile in your face can win the world. "Basic necessities", and "Hakuna Matuta" ,in a nutshell combined together in his words. I can never forget his words, at least in this life.

Anyway, we reached our venue. It is somewhere near the Mandi House area, so far as I remember (correct me if I am wrong). Whenever someone takes me to the Mandi House area, I cannot but recollect that anecdote I had read of, whereby a poor old Tughlaq period tomb is buried under cement ground under Pandit Nehru's orders. After all, Nehru's New Delhi has no place for countless old tombs and dilapidated ruins.

But, Triveni now. What to say! A place for culturally sound men and women; admirers of the highest forms of art and aesthetics. There is an art school, an exhibition hall, and a gallery at the venue. So, I won't be taken aback if someone asks me: "Hey, did you catch Kapila Vatsyayan's last lecture?", or "Hey, did you get to see T.M.Krishna's last solo performance?" Thankfully, no one did. For I have never really indulged actively and passionately in any of these. The last time T.M.Krishna came for a concert to Ramjas College and professor gave us a free period to attend his concert, I was chilling in the library! So that!

Then, what were three of us doing among these culture-vultures? We had come to eat, fill our tummies, and have fun. We did just that. We ordered samosas, pakodas, sandwiches and what not! Everything was superbly affordable. But we did something more. I still remember my dear friends talking about life, love and relationships. Most of it was something that I found quite deep and moving, and something I could hold on to for a lifetime. My friends had got the gift to absorb and reflect life's complex philosophy. They could squeeze out the innermost essence of a moment and present it before me in a jiffy. And I could sit for hours listening to them, trying to learn and absorb as much of those words as possible. Imagine Hessian Siddhartha and Govinda speaking in front of you.

I was told about this old Hindi movie,Anand, and I watched it that night. It made me cry. I realized that's how deep those words at Triveni were. We realized it was already evening, and we must leave. But we promised to return back at some other time. Our experiences from that day would make us wiser. Maybe that promise of coming back, shelved as of now, will be fulfilled some other day in future. Elsewhere and elsewhen. But that afternoon in September, that road to Triveni, and those wise words spoken by my two dear friends , will forever be etched in my heart.