Tyred? No way

It was as though Gulzar's truck driver from Namkeen had cruised out of 35mm -- singing Rah pe rahte hain, yaadon mein basar karte hain......

It was as though Gulzar8217;s truck driver from Namkeen had cruised out of 35mm 8212; singing Rah pe rahte hain, yaadon mein basar karte hain8230; into the digit-defying film of real life, not as actor Sanjeev Kumar, but as driver Kuldeep Singh.

I was sitting by a GT Road dhaba when he walked towards a charpoy next to ours. I paused on the creamy crest of my lassi to look at him. Unmindful of his neighbourhood, he slipped out of his Punjabi jutti and flopped down. The dhaba boy made a dash for the new customer. quot;Ki khaoge ji?quot; he swaggered in Punjabi. Without waiting for an answer, the menu rolled on his tongue like crackling popcorn in a sandpit. quot;Nothing,quot; he said with the patience of a man who had uttered his last golden word.

Intense, I thought. And immaculate in his off-white kurta-pyjama. Forty-plus, perhaps. A close-clipped beard. Little straws of grey bristling on his head. And, deadbeat tired. Naturally. It8217;s a rough ride for a truck driver. Like an eternal river, he flows.Ceaselessly. Crisscrossing the country. Ferrying the big and the small, the inexpensive and the invaluable. Every day. Day after day. Leaving behind tyre marks, transient on life8217;s endless road.

I extended my gaze. The fabled raucousness and leer of a truck driver were missing. He appeared friendly and decent. Just then, his almond-brown eyes opened. quot;Sat Sri Akal,quot; I smiled at him. quot;I want to ask you something.quot; quot;Me?quot; he said, his hands folding in greeting. quot;Sure!quot; quot;What8217;s your name?quot; quot;Kuldeep Singh,quot; he grinned. quot;Is that all?quot; I shuffled for words to embark on some conversation. He looked at me as if he had just found his appetite. Then he threw back his head and laughed aloud. It was easy after that.

He had been a gunner in the army. Did his mandatory 20 years before seeking premature retirement as havildar. Was expecting the next promotion but a relative of the late Giani Zail Singh superseded him. quot;I was disillusioned. So I returned.quot; Home was Moga. Or was it the truck? quot;It was a childhood dream.Driving under the canopy of stars in the night and snoring by the day. That8217;s all I ever wanted to do in life,quot; Kuldeep Singh8217;s mouth broke into a warm smile of a fond memory. quot;I had my heart in trucking and here I am.quot;

The driver was now tripping down memory lane. He had ferried everything, from potatoes and apples to stone-crushers and harvesters. It was fun being on the road. Alone and proud. The money was enough to feed the family 8212; wife and daughter. The thought of the daughter back home softened his furrowed brow. quot;She is just like you. Is doing her nurses training course in Ludhiana,quot; he said, his face clouding over a bit. Hiding in the tough exterior was a fond father, and a devoted, if reticent, husband. So much for a trucker8217;s toughness, I said to myself.

But he had charted tough territory on his truck. Kashmir, Northeast and very recently Kargil during the war. Did it ever occur to him that a journey could be his last? quot;I have done many years in Siachen. Seen chillblain gnawing at people8217;stoes. Frost-bite maiming soldiers. Seen young men fall into crevices. Death blows no horns, no dipper 8212; not in the night or in the day. I have seen it overtake life from wherever it wants to. It will come when Wahe Guru wills. Till then I journey.quot; Saying this, he got up.

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Bright and radiant, he thumped his beloved mount and for the last time, waved to me. He was steering away then, his philosophy playing on his lips like a song. Gulzar8217;s truck driver had perhaps borrowed from Kuldeep Singh8217;s book, the song that he sang in the film. Udte pairon ke taley jab behti hai zamin, mudke hamne koi manzil dekhi hi nahin8230;.