The Anna Raj

A fellow passenger is playing a Telugu song. The music is soothing the soul. I can't get the words. But it doesn't matter. I enjoy the melody, soak in the tune and feel absorbed in the song totally. 

That makes me wonder do our words really count if intentions are great? Can language really be a barrier? 

Hmm...not much if one is eager to form a bond. This is my fourth day in a city whose language I don't understand,  a region that does not recognize my 'ye dena' or 'ye  nahi chahiye'. Yet, I'm doing fine with help of my sign language, Google and few translators. 

The first day in Vijaywada was a struggle. At food counters, both the people - me and the seller slapped their tensed foreheads in exasperation. I wanted salt. But my good gracious Anna didn't understand salt, namak or mith. There was nothing in menu card that I could show to him that I wanted to order. The menu card had English and Telugu interpretations. So ordering the food was easy by showing Anna the precise line. But salt, hard luck here.  I looked hopefully at the man who had given me the coupons. He knew English. But he was busy giving out coupons to other hungry and angry customers like me. To get him out of that mess and help me would take eons. Like the Splintstones, my brain fiddled with innovations. An idea sparked. I did a sprinkling action over my food. I dipped a finger, licked it and then nodded my head grimly suggesting it lacked salt. 

EUREKA!! 

My Anna smiled widely with two of his chipped teeth making an appearance. He disappeared in the kitchen and I patted myself for a job well done. Till he procured me my dose of saline, I considered doing a course in monoacting. Prithvi theater could just be my stage. He returned with a small bowl and placed in front of me. Now he was smiling ear to ear, happy to have helped his customer. I returned the gesture with a thumbs up only to give out a thunderous wail. 

HE HAD BROUGHT MASALA!!

My licking and nodding action was interpreted as lack of taste, missing masala. Here, in Andhra people prefer their meals to be on a pungent side. Coming from a coastal area, I prefer it on the saltier side. Looking at the dismay spreading across my face, he squinted his eyes and probed me further. What was I to do now? Eat the salt less food. Only 5mg salt per day. My medical Textbooks did a jog in my convulsed brain. I picked up the plate and with a heavy heart took the first step towards my table. My dear Anna said something as if calling out to me. All I could say to him was, 'Tu Jane na..' sniff sniff. Yet, his determination made me think twice and I did a Simran style palat. 

My Raj was waving out with the mobile in his hand. As I went back to him, he stretched out his hand showed me Google. 

Yuhoooo..

I quickly typed salt on the search and asked it to translate in Telugu. My Anna Raj laughed hard at the what the translation showed him. He went in and returned with two bowls in hand. One had salt and other sugar. Ahaaa...finally I was united with a part of my Mumbai-SALT! But why sugar? Anna placed the masala and sugar bowl side to side and sprinkled a little sugar on the masala. 

INTELLIGENT MAMMAL!

The sugar bowl was a way of correcting his earlier folly of giving me the masala bowl.

Awww...such a sweet gesture!!

I was teary-eyed. Only I wanted to say to him was, 'Telugu Tamil main kya janu re..janu toh janu ke main tujhe apna Anna manu re..'

So, words are just a medium reflecting our intentions. Don't use them as sole tools of communication. Words might fail you, great intentions won't. 

#annaphilosophy