Gods on Roads: Routine of the blessed trade!

Routine of the blessed tradeBy: Rajbir Deswal

I wrote this for The Tribune,The HindustanTimes and The Pioneer long back.

It was Tuesday. The bell rang and I called our of Ramu to see who was there at the door. What I heard was a “khareech” followed by a mix of a shriek and laughter of the servant.I got anxious and sought to know from Ramu about the visitor. “It is a monkey, sir,” he replied giggling and almost calling him names.“Idiot...do monkeys ring the doorbell before entering...?” saying this, I hurried towards the door.I too was greeted with a “khareech” and in front of me was a man in the guise of the Monkey-God, Hanuman. He had a long tail, a bearded face with a swollen upper lip and body well oiled with vermilion.Less out of my own devotion and more for the Monkey-God’s dedication being in that apparel bearing the icy winds. I made him some offering. But, and since Monkey-God himself was there at my door, courtesy demanded that I should let him in the make him seated for a photograph and brief interview in exchange for the offering. I beckoned him in, but his tail would not allow him either entry in a small doorframe or even being reverentially seated. After all, Gods too have their limitations, and standing in the porch, we began to talk business.He introduced himself to me as Ram Saran. I asked him about his daily-routine to which he replied that he had a weekly-routine. “And what is that?” I enquired, thinking it should be interesting to know that. “Well, sir...”, he began on a humble note, but I cut him short. “No, no, please don’t address me as “sir”, after all you are in divine mantle”, and immediately he switched over to “Bachcha”.“Well, Bachcha, on Mondays I sport a big turban, carry Lord Shiva’s photograph (!) and a snake around my neck, for it is His day, and I collect offerings for Him from His “bhaktas”.“On Tuesdays...you have already seen...However, if you don’t mind, send for the camera...” he reminded me, and I again called out for Ramu.He continued. “On Wednesdays I and my caged-myna do fortune-telling either in front of the police stations or the courts. My myna beaks up the card where the fate of our clients is enveloped”.“On Thursdays I go to Baba Pir Ka Mazar with a bunch of peacock-wings and give my blessings to the devotees.”“On Fridays I assist my wife who dresses a la Santoshi Mata or Kali, depending on the availability of costumes”, for we lend them alternately to another family of our tribe”.“And on Saturdays...” Here, I again intervened, “Oh-no...aren’t you the Shani Maharaj who regularly makes is appearance in all white, from top to toe?” He smiled indigenously and reminded me of the camera.“But, Mr. Ram Saran”, I was now being more human-like, “does your trade in anyway benefit society at large or is it just to earn your bread that...?” He cut me short, “I too am relevant, sir, (now this was a man-to-man talk). What more suitably can I benefit society than my sermonising on all days of the week that my clientele should abstain on that particular day from meat, wine and woman!” He had a man-like lustre in his eyes.The camera arrived and having clicked him, I asked him what did he do on Sundays? Pat came the reply, “We too are human beings, after all. On Sundays we have our couple-kitties, bachcha, sir!”