It was the mid-nineties. Somewhere in 1995, as I recollect now, my trips to Banaras were frequent. My company wanted me to develop a business in the carpet industry. The industry was spread in the interiors of Uttar Pradesh, mainly in Mirzapur and Bhadohi. A fast way of reaching there was to go via Varanasi. Unlike today, there was only one airline service provider, and that was Indian Airlines. Like a nomad, I landed on my first trip without knowing how to reach the destinations with few addresses. Working on limited travel budgets, I checked in a small hotel in the center of Banaras.
As I came out of the hotel, I wandered in the gullies, enjoying the street food of Banaras. The city was hospitable and welcomed a newcomer like me. For many trips I used shared Armada Jeeps to reach my destination. Traveling in those shared jeeps was a memorable experience. While a standard Jeep would accommodate six people, they would load twelve people with the driver almost hanging outside and just about maneuvering the steering wheel. The fact was, it all worked.
Coming back to business, while I started to work with individual carpet companies there, it was apparent we needed some representative there to manage the business. I connected with Anoop through familiar industry friends, who ran his textile chemical business from Bhadohi itself. Over the next two years, the business picked up. Anoop and I became very close.
For the next few trips, I stayed in Bhadohi itself as it saved a lot of travel time, and Anoop would bring food from his home to ensure I was comfortable. When he would be in Mumbai, he would stay at Hotel Manama next to VT station, and sometimes we both would enjoy breakfast at the famous Pancham Puriwala. In the years I was there with the company, we were satisfied with the progress we made in developing a new business segment.
I left that company and moved on, and with me, all my contacts and friends also moved on. I lost touch with Anoop too. But a couple of years back, I was walking on the streets of the Fort area, saw Hotel Manama and Hotel Pancham Puriwala; I remembered Anoop and our association. I came to know later that Anoop was no more. He had passed away at a very young age due to a heart attack, and his father had wound up the business Anoop had started. It was with subdued melancholy that I remembered Anoop and the time we had spent together.
We all have such a vast gallery of images that stays with us for years. Sometimes, it makes sense to relive those moments, even if it means doing it in dreams.
My book Yearning to live those days is a compilation of short stories, and is purely a work of fiction. These have been inspired by the many incidents and observations over a period, coupled with thoughts and imagination. The stories are all about relationships, emotions, and love in different shades. I thank all those who will read these narrations.
