Nagar Vadhu

I look very pretty sitting on a bike. I am fair, with usual features.

But if you are in India being fair is beautiful enough.Though a universal phenomena, this sun scorched country is obsessed more with light skin. We have more film songs which rave and romp about beauty equal to complexion.

I paint my face but not enough that my fairness gets overshadowed. The clothes are simple yet fitting tight and draw out my curves,the bright coloured dupattas make me look more girlish.I love to lie about my age.

I have a bike driver who drives me .I chose the shortest guy so that i look taller.Its no less privileged than being chauffeured around in a car.The only thing that gets to you is the pollution and rough driving. I wonder if in times to come we will have more people dying on Indian roads than hospitals. 

Just today i saw a student on a cycle and from his heavy bag a piece of paper with some big college photo was peeping out.It occurred to me I don’t read. I can’t read. I don’t understand data, number, letters.Yet I observe life, I learn from people. They are no less than the education I couldn't afford .For example i can tell you which person will buy and which only window shopping.I can tell when there's love between people,when eye contact reduces communication breaks down,and when there's amicable silence ,there's friendship full of understanding ,no words or eyes are needed. Life is simple.Mother natures  has her comforting web.

I like average people ,the world is so full of them.But i like those who know about their average-ness not mislead themselves that life will turn out like a film.The only action to look foward to is the occasional on the bed.Rest life flashes ,blink blink,one day you are twenty and the next thirty...

I smile..a lot so whether on the bike or not i appear friendly.I enjoy the attention i get from all passers by and miss when the young lads pass by me without at least a slant and corner of the eye, stare.

Say Mantu a helper who serves sweets at  the Mithai shop,he always raises a full blown assault with that honey-syrupy look every time i pass by.I think he loves me.Attention can be very nourishing for the human spirit.

I enjoy seeing housewife's wearing their best blue silk saris with golden borders and a bindi when they accompany their husbands on Sunday outings.In small towns this  may be ,but i can tell you some things remain same whether big or small ...

Those who have bikes and have ridden one know that the smell of the monsoons arriving...the whiff of the dust,leaves,moist,as if the blare of something new, is intoxicating.It has healthy irreverence for makeup and creates a puddle on my face.But simply rejuvenates the spirit.

Education has bought jobs which in turn more purchasing power with the young.And the ability to make decisions that comes with financial security is a big one.One leap in the right direction is that they are not blind to their failings....They take life head on,headlights on...

My bike is now on the busiest red light.I turn back to all the waiting cars.I strike a conversation with the young man in the new sedan standing beside me,i giggle as i appreciate his car,and the green light signals time to go. I have found my customer...

**Nagarvadhu- was a tradition followed in some parts of ancient India.Women competed to win the title of a Nagarvadhu, and it was not considered a taboo. The most beautiful woman was chosen as the Nagarvadhu.A Nagarvadhu was respected like a queen or Goddess, but she was a courtesan or prostitute; people could see her dance and sing. A Nagarvadhu's price for a single night's dance was very high, and she was only within the reach of the very rich – the king, the princes, and the lords.Amrapalli was one such nagavadhu who finally became a bikhshuni (Budhist monk)