Bagar

(I was in Rajasthan for 10 weeks this summer residing in a small town called Bagar helping out at a rural BPO. I had written this when i left. Somehow, i have been thinking about it and just felt like sharing it with all, who made it such an fantastic experience.)

I am beginning with the presupposition that I will not remember much. I know of a time when I used to hate any kind of documentation – photos, diaries – any kind of journalistic accounts. I loved the frivolous life I lived and I enjoyed the limited expanse of my memory. I believed that that would ensure that I would remember the best moments.

Well, I was wrong. Every time I embark on one of these finding-self journeys, I am supremely enthralled by the fact that a new place and new people allow individuals to be whoever they want. No one knows you, you can be contentious, you can be mean, you can be childlike, you can be senseless, and you can be downright pathetic. People could judge you but you would not care less. You are not to know them for life anyway. So, this time, I decided to be the best version of myself. Friends suggested that I blog on a daily basis so that I could at every point of time retain the value that this experience would give me. This could be a reference point of who I wanted to become.

Well, I did not follow their advice. Instead, I sit here almost at the end of my stint thinking to myself – "how do I feel about leaving?" and it is this thought that brings me to this commentary.

I am not one of those people who are engulfed by a certain passion and they owe it to themselves to realize it. I am also not exceptionally talented or skilled or smart to be doing that one single passionate thing. Having studied one full year of social entrepreneurship, I often wondered whether I was doing the wrong thing and whether I had it in me at all to be a social entrepreneur. Did I have that singular fervor to madly pursue social change? I figured I did not care enough about anything. I always considered myself to be one of those ordinary souls who can do a decent job at almost anything.

To be brutally honest, I have learnt that I care. I have learnt that it takes 10 women and a rural BPO to have experienced the most rewarding and satisfying chapter of my life.

I have learned listening is a handy skill. Some of the brightest ideas come in the most trying times when one listens to people around them.

I have learned to ask questions. It is the most exploratory method of understanding an issue.

Having studied in an extremely academic and theoretical environment for the last one year, somehow I had forgotten what praxis feels like. In that light, I have learned to make things happen.

I made some new friends in the process. I will miss them to bits. (I am not even the sentimental types)

And I will miss my women -

I will remember Saroj when I think about ambition.

I will remember Rajni when I think about empathy.

I will remember Sarita when I think about cheekiness.

I will remember Vidya when I think about unionization.

I will remember Neelam when I think about youth.

I will remember Sulochana when I think about generosity.

I will remember Anjana when I think about outspokenness.

I will remember Kiran when I think about candid wisdom.

I will remember Shobha when I think about lending a hand.

I will remember all these epitomes.

I will remember the broken relics of Mandawa. Shashank's mad antics on the journey back home on the top of a bus. Ashish's crazy cheering "Watson!Watson!" at the IPL. Pooja's flaky stories of Bihar, UPenn and elsewhere. Manisha's wit and comments spelling murder for Vijaysai. Vijaysai's litigious ardor to make an argument. Kamalji's tree climbing skills. Dharamveerji tryst with food experimentation. Rahul Reddy's fascinating handwriting and endearing Hindi. Saudi's bloody eyes. Neeraj's sleepy eyes. Srikant's sincerity and Rachit's enterprise. Rahul Kaul's (Kaulboy – Thank you Nishant) endearing self-motivated ways. Nishant's Aquarian (read childlike and curious) ways. Akshay Singh's utterly expressive stories. Vijaysai's PITA (Pain In The Ass). Shrot's unknowing (annoying) habits. Gagan's KAKA KAKA. Radhika's looney tunes. Shalin's "NO". Naman's weird music tastes. Radheshyamji's random jigs in the kitchen. Scooby's slow wagging of the tail. The ticks tenacity at sucking doggie blood. The lizard's carcass. The scorpion. The praying mantis. The sheer variety of bug bites – all sizes and colours. The occasional clean toilet. Pabudhaam. Vijaysai Hai Hai. Katherine's thank yous and sorries. Preeti's affectionate tears. The sandstorms and the rains that followed (the best night of this year). The poultry farm. The old maulvi at the dargah. The camel rides. The donkey dicks. The pinkie Bagar boys. Dole Sole and body fit and fine. Andy's vocals. Stephanie's black belt moves and keen sense of humour. Ashish's competitive and warm spirit. The real cool town of khetri. Gaurishankar's Jasmine. Cudlai Mistress. Shrot's next-door chatting. Manisha's Shrot impersonations. Animal sex. Srikant's ant mutilating skills. Andaz apna apna. Sleepwalking into people's rooms. Litchis. To be continued….

There was a time the work was so good, I would have loved to stay. There is a time the people are so good, I would have loved to stay.

So how does it feel to be leaving?

It feels like nostalgia already. Sweet biting nostalgia.