The Art Of Walking

Chaos ensues in the cramped single room of a dingy Mumbai chawl where Vilas and three of his roommates hurriedly pack their bags. The radio is set to a news station that drones on about the Covid-19 pandemic and the ensuing lock-down of the country. The four young men are migrant construction workers who have been rendered unemployed and are now planning to return home while the borders are still open. Buses and trains have been halted so they have resolved to walk the 400-kilometer journey to their neighbouring hometowns.

After a while they reach the highway and are well past the outskirts of Mumbai. The blistering heat has their clothes soaked in sweat. Vilas stops and takes a drink of water, and they make an account of their food and water supplies. They barely have enough for three days, so on the fourth day they’ll have to go without food or water till they can reach home. With this in mind, they are careful not to take very big sips of water.

In the night they stop to sleep by the side of the road. Their phones don’t have any signal so one of the friends pulls out a radio to listen to the news. They friends talk briefly about what awaits them at home, Vilas is going home to his only family: his mother whom he has not seen for almost a decade. As they try to make light of the situation, deep down they are aware that they are likely bidding farewell to their life in the city forever. Exhausted from all the walking, the others fall asleep while Vilas stays awake. He changes the station to listen to some music and in the interval the radio jockey mentions the environmental upsides of the pandemic and gives the example of the migratory flamingos that are expected to reach Mumbai any day now.

The next day is spent silently as the four friends walk quietly to conserve their energy. They’re walking along the train tracks which lead to their district. The dusty tracks ahead of them seems infinite. Softly, one of the friends starts singing a funny song, and they all come together to sing it as if in a marching band:

“Bhaiya ki maa ki? Choot!
Neeche paan ki dukaan,
Upar randi ka makaan,
Randi dene ko tayaar,
Bhaiya lene ko tayaar,
Bhaiya? Bhosdika!
Neem ka patta kadwa hain,
Modiji toh bhadwa hain,
Jab train slow chalti hain toh avaaj kaise aata hain?
Bhaiya ki maa ki choot! (X3)”

In the evening after the sun has set and the sky is fading into violet and orange hues, they decide to stop for dinner and rest. Vilas shares some chura-gur and sattu mixed with water as their dinner, and they lie down to sleep. Vilas has a surreal dream of himself as a child dressed as a flamingo dancing in the middle of the track with a spotlight on him. His feathers ruffle violently in the vacuum of his mind and a slow rumble rises and rises. His mother’s faceless voice asks him, “Jab train slow chalti hain toh avaaj kaise aata hain?”

Vilas opens his eyes to see a train barrelling towards him and he rushes to pull his friends to safety. They stumble in the dark as the train screeches past them and they are shaken into consciousness. They yell in panic and call out to each other as the light from the train compartments shines on them with strobe-like flashes till the train disappears into the dark. When the dust settles and they confirm that none of them were injured, Vilas pulls out his phone and uses its torchlight to survey the damage. They watch on with horror as they discover that their bags and belongings, including food and water, have been completely decimated by the power of the train. Defeated, Vilas falls to the ground. In the darkness, we hear the silent weeping of four men.

When the sun begins to rise, Vilas and the others start salvaging whatever they can manage. They share their last bit of food and water, then decide to leave the tracks and make their way back to the highway. When they reach the highway, their phones start pinging as they have managed to come under network coverage for the first time since leaving the city. They rejoice in this simple stroke of luck and make calls to their families or loved ones. Vilas tries calling his mother several times till someone finally answers but it’s not his mother. An elderly man on the other side of the call informs Vilas that his mother passed away the night before and they will be cremating her body the next day.

When Vilas returns to his friends, he finds them already discussing their return to Mumbai. They don’t believe that they can complete the journey without food or water and asks Vilas to join them. Vilas is simply speechless, still trying to digest the news from his hometown. Vilas sits down besides the road and thinks, there’s no way he can walk to his village in time, and he may not even survive the journey.

When his friends impatiently ask him for an answer Vilas tells them about his mother and that he’s going to continue on his journey alone. They try to explain to him that he won’t reach in time in any case and that he’s better off turning back, but when they see Vilas crying, they settle down next to him and share their last resources with him: a morsel of food, half a liter of water, and a dented but functional radio. Vilas thanks them and they part ways.

Sometime later, Vilas is walking down the highway alone. The afternoon sun reaches its blistering peak and as he reaches for a sip of water his strength leaves him and he crumbles to the ground. After a while, unmoving, he hears the sound of wings beating, thousands of them. Vilas turns over with great pain and stares up at the white sky above him where thousands of pink flamingos fly past the noon sun as they make their migratory journey southwards. Vilas looks on at this awe-inspiring display of nature, not sure if it’s a dream or reality.

Vilas is about to close his eyes when water splashes across his face. He looks up suddenly and finds a hearty Punjabi man looking down on him and large truck parked beside the road that he didn’t even notice before. The Punjabi man tells him that three strange men had stopped his truck some time ago and begged him to help Vilas get to his village. The truck driver decided he’ll help him since it’s on his way and now Vilas’ journey will be cut in half, and he can make it home in time to send off his mother. Vilas gets up slowly and thanks him while still being dazed. As he’s climbing into the truck, Vilas asks the truck driver if he saw any birds in the sky just now. The truck driver shrugs his shoulders and starts the engine.

END.