The day I bought a harmonica - Part Two

Next I walked to Shalimar building a few blocks from the crossing, where I had to go to the bank. It was just an in and out visit. My errands were finally done. While i was in the queue at the GPO, being free this quick seemed like a bleak possibility.

I knew I couldnt walk to Aminabad in the heat: It was noon and a clear July sky. So I asked a rickshaw-wala, "Bhaiya Aminabad chaloge?" "Aminabad kahan jayenge?" "Umm..Safed Masjid." "Chaliye." "Baith jayen?" "Haan baith jaiyen." These rickshaws are pedal driven.

I was going to Aminabad because I'd been there earlier to buy my guitar. It didn't turn out great, but I had no other leads on music shops in Lucknow. The driver turned left from Mayfair Square, into Lalbagh and we passed by Novelty Cinema where a three-headed Ajay Devgn was staring into the circle from a height. In a few minutes we were at the Kaiserbagh Roundabout.

"Ji Safed Masjid jana hai na?", he asked. "Humein pata hai ye wali gully hai", I said, pointing to one of the roads that spun out of the Circle. "Hum bata rahe hain, Safed Masjid.." "Aap idhar se hi chalo, humein yad hai", I said. He followed my direction and we went down the crowded lane. The place didn't look like it did a couple of years ago when I'd last been there.

"Woh bandookon ki dukaane kahan gayi?" I asked the driver, and I realised I had directed him onto the wrong road. "Woh toh doosri wali gully hai saheb." "Arey gadbad ho gayi yar..Chaloge waha? " I asked him. He was visibly tired from pedaling in the sun, and I didn't want to insist. "Chalenge, kyu nahi?", came his reply and he u-turned the rickshaw on the spot. 

One thing I've observed in Lucknow is that there is little or no traffic discipline here, so it was apparently very normal to turn anywhere, cut past any vehicle, in a narrow street at least. Even the vehicles trailing behind us found this normal: they just went ahead around either side of our rickshaw, whichever was easier. No offense given or taken. In a couple of minutes we were back at the Roundabout.

This time we went down Latouche Road. This is again quite a narrow road, bustling with activity: at the start there's a vegetable market, miscellaneous shops and a lot of people. Just people. Doing their stuff, living out their lives.

As we went past the market, I heard a screech. A car had sped past us and as it did, the axle of the rickshaw had scraped it nice and proper on the outside. Again, this seemed normal. The car guy didnt seem to care, and the rickshaw guy was the least bothered. "Ye gaadi-bike walo ko itni bhi kya jaldi lagi rehti hai?" I got to talking with him. "Pata nahi saheb, chalaate toh aise hain jaise khudahi ki sadak ho.. Chhodiye ye toh aise hi hain."

Latouche Road is known for its gunshops. A good patch of the road is lined on both sides with gunshops. Their signboards make them look just like your everyday gunshops. You know, you step in, you buy a gun and you leave. "humare yahan sabhi prakaar ki riflein aye-vam pistaulein milengi"

As I saw Safed Masjid approaching, I said to the rickshaw guy, "Bas Bas bhaiya yahin utaar dijiye humein." I got down, reached inside my pocket and asked him, "Kitne paise dein?" "Jitne theek lagein de dijiye aur kya.." "Arey aise nahi, aap boliye toh", I said. I was feeling a bit guilty about earlier. The least I could do was pay him what he expected. "Chaliye bees rupaiye de dijiye." I held out thirty and said to him, "Ye lijiye bees sawaari ke aur dus hamari galati ke." He smiled.

The money exchanged hands and I started walking towards Melody Mart.