The genesis of my intellectual and humanitarian relation with India (the second qualification is of later date) dates back to my visit to Gujarat in 2010 January and 2010 November. Before the date, I was a tourist most probably. Since then I have been in a frequent touch with the scholars in India. The latest proof of it is an invitation to Osmania University, Hyderabad. I think writing more on it will be tautological; so fullstop
Dhulikhel - Airport - Itahari
Contrary to the real plan for the departure set for Saturday,July 16, there was an obligation to leave on Thursday (two days before) due to an announcement of two days' Nepal Bandha. As it happens in unexpectedly early travels and especially in my case, I booked plane ticket at 10 a.m. with a plan to leave University at 1 (as the plane had its schedule at 4; I had to collect the ticket from Antu Hill, a travel agent; and the public vehicle would generally take around one and half hour to reach Kathmandu). But having talked with a faculty, I rescheduled to depart at 2 due to his readiness to hitchhike me up to Kathmandu. At quarter past 2 when I called him, I got to know that the friend already left as he did not see me in the department.
Imagine the condition I underwent; anyway, I rushed to Mahendra Dai to request him for the arrangement of any vehicle. And, as expected he called the driver and asked him to reach me up to Banepa. Calculating the time, I felt that spending for taxi is an unnecessary expenditure. But again as the local bus loved to enjoy leisurely travel, I could not be in tune with its passionate stops; caught taxi, requested the travel agent dai to reach me ticket to the airport. Such a rush but to hear the news that there is half an hour delay in the flight. Finally, Biratnagar airport.
Out from the airport, nearly two dozen rickshaw pullers, there were calls and pulls. Avoiding all, I went a bit further, and found doing a surprising deal with a four-wheeler: he was ready to offer me ride till Itahari at Rs. 100. Can you imagine a ride in four-wheeler at this fare and alone? Impossible but happened. On the way when I initiated the talk, I came to know that he was my father's student some years back. The knowledge then itched me so much that I thought I should not have bargained at the cost of his obligation (actually, he had come to drop a constituent assembly member and waiting for a bait to take only up to Itahari). At home, I handed over Rs. 2 hundred and asked if he wanted to join me for tea. I don't write what his response was as I want you to think over it.
Jogbani- Calcutta
The train bound for Calcutta arrived at the junction on time and provided relief from excessive heat and waiting for around two hours, half an hour of which was used to manage mobile number. (Here, I acknowledge Aadardha Bastralaya dai in Jogbani for helping me get Indian subscriber identity module card)
So cozy the birth proved after such waiting that I started dozing off. Then sleep, and when I woke up, it was Calcutta station!
Assistance, Anger and Angst
Waiting at Calcutta Airport for Hyderabad was not enticing even for three hours. Very simple reason; there was no wifi and any attempt to convince the manager did not work. So, I was left alone, gazing and being the object of the reciprocity; eyes horizontal, eyes vertical, eyes slanting, but to compel the object of my gaze to be the fetish of the panopticon. Hardly could I escape the gaze genetically and culturally inherited as a token of traditional patriarchy (you understand what I mean).
No any delay this time; lucky that I did not purchase Air India or Jetlite. The happiness that upsurged from the Kingfisharian sense of timelessness, however, could not sustain once I had to retrospect the hospitality of Air India. Anyway, the real delight came out of my conversation with Gupta ji next to me; our sense of talk would have envied Cornish Ogre in The Selfish Giant . The best part of it: I became analogous to the "children in the giants' gargen".And Einsteinian sense of time didn't provide space for any Derrida to enter.
Airport Shuttle with Gupta ji- then Begumpet; In between: Gupta ji's around six time mobile call (including his own son) to help me find out Osmania University. Imagine the humanity in the age when there is a nostalgic cry for humanness!
Then, the cab driver who first assured to go on meter, but failing to make it work (if it was intentional?), proposed to drop both of us to the destination (Gupta ji was to get down at Bidhyanagar). But, had he driven hardly 2km, he suddenly hiked the fare against the former deal. What followed then, imagine? Gupta ji got so angry that he threatened to report the case to the police. He was saying- if you had done it in the absence of this guest, I would not have bothered to pay you; but, as you are betraying a foreigner, it creates a bad impression about Hyderabad. The debate would have turned into a fight if I had not requested Gupta ji to stop for my sake. Bidhyanagar. He got down paying his share (despite my request for leaving it to me) and giving me his number with the promise that he would be available if needed.
The auto-man, who later turned to be so promising, reached me to the destination at around 11pm. What happened then was angst, Heideggerian sense of 'existential condition'. Who should I blame? myself? Kingfisher? the organizer? Anyway, I enjoyed the first night; memory, desire and anxiety.
During The Course
The philosophical question that was having boomerang over me during my journey was, what should be my nature during the course (I am sure you agree with me that we make and unmake our nature knowingly and unknowingly). Retrospecting, I find the question natural from the standpoint of a person travelling to another country (though I take India as my second home) and going to get mixed with people from diverse background. To let you know, Hyderabad was bringing around 2 tens people in one space. The most complicating of all elements in this connection was presence of the individuals who had perceived me as 'a serious fellow who loves to be with books'. To tell you the truth, the impression was the consequence of my last visit to India: the only feasible, desirable, and willing option left for me was of seriously studious fellow. (Can you imagine of any other image when you are in an academic space as one of the 4 distinguished scholars from South Asia?)
Might be because of this reverberation, I was a bit different than in the later weeks (to tell you the truth, I did not notice change of any sort in myself). I am really confused here - should I mistrust myself or distrust the friends? Anyway, I must mention (some in quote and some with modified reported speech, you know the level of authorial agency in the second case) what friends remarked, "Khagendra started mixing with all only after a week"; or, the metamorphosis is due to the change in representative from the Organizing body. Not necessary that observations consequent in binaries of truth/falsity. Or, likely that friends had started being Heideggerian ontological thinkers, thinking about thingness of the thing. Alternatively, the change could have been visible due to the departure of Prof. R. Radhakrishnan after the first week. The presence of such a dynamic figure might have put everyone under palimpsest except Anjana as she was so exceptionally good in singing along with her amicable nature, and "Magesh, to use Prof. Radha's replacement" due to his super-openness (not in negative sense) with his friends. Mahesh will definitely excuse me even if I write yellow journalism stuff about him! Hai ki nahi Mahesh. Nahi bola to Tanveer ko bulakar hum dono some mischief karenge camera ke aage!
I think I must apologize for writing so openly; my request to the readers is, you should not be obliged to read it if you feel that I am writing nonsense; and to my friends, you must email me if I have written anything untruthful and unreadable.
Shall write more if you give consent!
