Why beg when you can steal?

It was another hot April evening when I was going back home in a Churchgate Slow. The ladies compartment in which I was travelling was noisy and entertaining, as usual. Bhelwalas, Clipwalas, etc. were trying their best to convince the “easy-to-convince gender” to purchase their stuff and fill their pockets.


In a few minutes since I entered the train, there entered a young man with a boy (supposedly his younger brother). The man had a musical instrument which I had seen in Rajasthan some months back. It isn't a very popular instrument, so after taking some help from Google, I figured out that it is called ‘Ravan Hattha,’ which is a local Rajasthani string instrument. I mentally named him ‘Ravan’, ONLY AND ONLY because that was the name of the instrument that he was carrying. It was my very obvious assumption that Ravan had entered the train to earn some money for sympathy; and not to ignore, he was sharp enough to recognize that women are storehouses of sympathy. (Why else would he enter the ladies' compartment?)


Ravan was leaning on one of the many rods of the compartment and his companion was standing in front of him, quiet, calm and composed. Both of them had no such expressions on their faces that would want anyone to sympathize and offer something to them. Ravan then started playing the Ravan Hattha, which, I realized, is indeed a very nice instrument to hear. He played two songs that I had never heard before, and then he started playing Tum Hi Ho, Chahun Mai Ya Na from Aashiqui 2. He was playing all this well enough that we ladies could easily recognize the songs within a few seconds. That’s when he started getting more attention than expected. I am sure everyone in the compartment was singing the songs in their minds along with the tune of Ravan’s music. (So was I ;) :D). It was then that I realized how marketing works at all levels. You offer your customers what is trending in the market and you are sure to get attention and sometimes, even a good quantum of profit.

Ravan’s companion was motionless, (except for the train’s movement of course) standing near the door, and enjoying the gushing air. I could see some women looking for coins inside their bags and wallets to give to Ravan or his companion, but I was wondering why both of them were not moving from their places. Ravan then played Sunn Raha Hai Na from the same movie and he played it so well, that some ladies got up from their seats, went to Ravan offering money. Ravan gestured the ladies to give these coins to his companion, who then brought forward his hand to receive money.

I was observing all this standing on the footboard of the other door of the compartment, waiting to get down at the next station. That was the time when Ravan played the tune of Happy Birthday To You and Jingle Bells. Ravan then did something that I never thought he would, he played the Summer of 69. I was too surprised to hear this tune in a Mumbai Local, being played by man who must be surviving a hand-to-mouth living, that too, on a local Rajasthani instrument. The station where I had to get down had almost arrived, but I thought, this man is not a beggar; he has integrity and self-respect. He doesn’t go around asking for money, rather he showcases his talent and lets people decide if they want to appreciate his talent and pay him for the same. He actually takes efforts to understand what people like, what is latest in the market and learns to play the songs which will probably fetch him more money than usual. Then I did something that I had never done before. I pulled out a note from my Jeans pocket, went to the other door, where Ravan and his companion were standing, offered the note to the younger guy, and gave Ravan the ‘thumbs up’ gesture out of respect and appreciation.

Ravan was the first person I had seen in a local train, who had come to earn money rather than beg for it. I believe he was confident about his talent and played not only to earn, but to amaze and please his audience, as artists do. 

Walking towards home, I thought of Ravan. I reminisced about something; if you can steal people’s respect and attention with your talent, then why beg for pity? Poor or rich, a person of honour will never demand sympathy. I don’t remember Ravan’s or his companion’s face, but I remember what they made me realize, and I also remember very vividly what I named him, thanks to that daft nomenclature!