The way to the tavern

Sailen Routray

Harivansh Rai Bachchan (1907–2003)
Photo credit: commons.wikimedia/org/Government of India

Around four months back, I was travelling with family from my mother's village back to Bhubaneswar. The occasion for the visit was my eldest mamu's first sraddha. 

The niece requested me to play something from my college days. In another trip I had played a few songs from the late 1990s and early 2000s. 

The numbers had included those by Indian bands like Silk Route and Indian Ocean, and Pakistani ones such as Junoon and Strings. Those times were a little less jingoistic. 

When I was thinking about what to play for her, I suddenly remembered what I absolutely must put on the stereo. When I was in college in Bhubaneswar, there was a period of a little more than one year, when I would play the Manna Dey rendition of 'Madhushala' on the tape recorder, every night before sleeping . 

To say that I was addicted to this particular rendition of the long poem is an understatement. The music by Jaidev has just the right amount and kind of instrumentation. The tune is lilting and melodious. And Manna Dey is Manna Dey. 

The cassette begins with the poet Harivansh Rai Bachchan himself singing 'Madiralay jane ko ghar se chalta hai peenewala/ 'Kis path se jaaoon' asmanjas main hai woh bholabhala/' - "To go the tavern, the drinker leaves his place/ a little confused and undecided is the simpleton, about the path to take./"

Over the last many weeks till that day, I had been a little perplexed about my own choices about the path to the tavern. A couple of years back, I committed myself to a particular way, after being initiated. 

Till then I had explored four different ones, for a few years on each, always feeling a little out of place. The one I walk on now, after many months of practice, had started seeming like a natural part of my life, like cooking, eating, and walking. So, I formally committed to it. 

After more than three years of practice till then, there was some joy in walking the path. But my pace had been slow, the movements clumsy, the goal of the tavern, ever further away. 

Doubts had started creeping in. Am I on the right path? 

Then, on that evening, I heard Bachchan (the elder, more important one) sing, 'Alag alag path batlate sab, par main yeh batlata hoon/ rah pakad tu ek chalachal, pa jaega madhushala' - 'Different people suggest different paths, but this is what I say/ Stick to a road and keep on walking, and you'll reach the tavern./"

As I heard this amidst the mad traffic and noise of the Kendrapada-Cuttack highway, some knot within was untied. 

My path is my path. The tavern is on every step that I take. And the alcohol is every drop of sweat that I shed with the effort of walking.