My First Gontri.

Let me tell you all about my trip to Ujjain. Where I heard some epic poetry, swapped life stories, chatted with some monkeys, 'latrined' on the highway and met some truly awesome people.

It all began when my neighbors and I, went out to have daal and roti. And naan. And lassi. And well, I ended up eating a whole pizza. The next morning, my stomach woke me up, trying to evict all the gluten which it couldn't fit down my insides.

Anyway, I sat outside my house gathering the strength and courage to go to work. Another One of my neighbors offered me a tablet. Those of you who know me, also know how desperate I'd have to be to take medicine and I took it. However, it didn't work but nonetheless, I went to work holding my stomach. In all the commotion I forgot to get change from the storekeeper. No change on the bus in the morning means no ticket. So, in desperation, I asked everyone on the bus for change but to no avail. Just as I was about to lose all faith in public transport, a divine entity speaks to me from the back of the bus. It's a man wearing a greasy check shirt. He tells me:

"dhuddu ilva? naan kodthini". "If you don't have money, I'll pay for you".

I replied in my broken Kannada:

"beda sir, Five Hundred idhe. sildre illa". No need, there is Five Hundred. There is no change".

He offered to pay anyway. With my heart touched and my faith in public transport renewed, I reached work. It was the last Friday of the month and that meant that we were going to study! Yes, as teachers, we not only teach but we also study. I think that's great. This month'session was largely on how to, as a listener, allow somebody to communicate clearly without hesitation. Step #1: Avoid anything that would make the speaker less likely to share something with you in the future. Things like advising, prodding, shaming, etcetera. Step #2: Open up the conversation. You can try not saying anything (I think this works because people would rather talk about their feelings than go through an unbearable awkward silence). You could also try nodding and hmming. The hardest part is when something is stopping them or they just don't know what to say. How do you say something that makes them more comfortable to share something with you? I'll leave that for you to figure out (It's harder than it sounds).

We did a role play to test this method out. 'Person A' has a non-hypothetical problem. Like they non-hypothetically ate too much wheat and their stomach is non-hypothetically non-metaphorically glued shut and is trying to non-hypothetically spew it's insides out. 'Person B' listens to the problem. When they hit a road block, she says something like: "So, you feel sick". And she stops right there. If done with the right nuances, it can work like magic. I continued to talk and even figured out how I got myself in the situation in the first place.

For that, we need to rewind about Three Hundred and Eighty-Three days ago, roughly, when I first visited The Atelier (the school I work at). You see, I wanted to go to MP for an event my friend was hosting; Gontri. But I was so captivated by the school that I decided to stay back. Exactly Half a year or so later, which is exactly some time Half a year ago. I had to decide between the second Gontri or Welcome Education. The latter having been my decision, I had missed the first and second Gontris. What's more is that the third Gontri, GonThree if you will, was going to be the last One and what's even more is that GonThree was going to begin on Saturday, The Twenty-ninth of February, 2020, in Ujjain Madhya Pradesh, a full Thirty hours from Bengaluru. If you have been paying attention you'll know that that's the day after my study session. So, what was I to do? Being an unschooler, I didn't have it in me to miss a study session. But how could I be a day late to what was only a Two and a Half day event? The last One of it's kind? What would you do in a situation like this?

I decided to use Half my Christmas and birthday money to book a last minute flight ticket to Indore. That's why I was so determined to go to work and why I was so determined to catch that flight... It's 'cause I've got Indian and Jewish blood. (Both are stereo-typically stingy). What that means is that I really wanted to prove to myself that the money I spent was worth it. My colleagues warned me that the airport security might not let me through with a fever. Ya'know, with the whole Covid-19 thing going on. (This was before we knew it was serious). So, I took a paracetamol.

Eight hours and Two pills through my illness, I held my stomach once again. I caught a bus that was airport bound. It took me longer to get from work to the airport than from Indore to Ujjain. That's because it's the same distance, Fifity-five kilometers (with Bengaluru traffic). For you Americans, that's Fifty-five kilometers. Just use metric already!

Luckily, the gang had come to Indore to watch Kabir Cafe, live. Niraj Arya (lead vocalist) even posted on Instagram saying Gontri with Kabir Cafe. After the performance, they picked me up and on the way to Ujjain, we sung songs, rapped and recited some indescribably beautiful poetry.

With my stomach pains turning into loose motions, I skipped dinner. But the next morning we had the most wonderful breakfast. I realized that you've never really had poha until you have it in (or near) Indore. Or maybe it was just the hunger.

Everybody was suddenly woken-up by the sound of music. We had a soothing music jam. Hemant said that he has never 'enjoyed' being woken-up before.

Anyway, we started our session with a magical game called Bibbidi-Bobbidy-Boo.

Next, we shared how the previous day treated us. It wasn't too kind to me as you remember. We talked about how special Gontri was to us and that thought begged the question "Then, why is Gontri coming to an end?" As the laughter settled, Pasha (Pushpendra) picked up the question:

"Well, as you may know, gontri is a Bundeli word, whereas it does not only happen in Bundelkhand. It happens all over the country. Originally, gontri simply means pade rehna,'to Lie Around " Listeners burst into laughter. "No, seriously. When a person crashes at a friends place and simply lies around". "For a minimum of Four days mind you!" Pasha says somewhat jokingly. "The host believes 'atiti dev bhavam (guets are god in our house)'. Because food, water and shelter come at Zero cost/effort. The individual in question is allowed to 'lie around'. This is gontri". "So, no". Pasha continues. "Gontri is not coming to an end. We are simply choosing not to host it further because we don't want it to become an event. If you really want gontri to continue, you can always crash at each others' houses and 'Lie Around'".

Immediately voices filled the room with open invitations to come to their homes and 'Lie About'. We got invitations from Kashi, Dehli, Tikamgarh, even Bhutan and of course, Bengaluru :)

Some of us shared our life journey. Talking about the challenges & difficulties we faced, the good times & gifts we've been blessed with and what kept us moving forward. Suhaniyo got a glance at my diary and remembered the illustration inside.

He asked me to show everyone, saying that my partner had drawn it.

While telling my story, I remembered it was that very partner who inspired me to move to Bengaluru in the first place.

Reva maa, shared her eye-catching artworks. https://www.instagram.com/revapandit/?hl=en

Later, Jitendra's wife (who's name I've since forgotten (Sorry!). ), Pasha, Vineet and Suhaniyo sang a beautiful Bundeli song about a wedding. The groom cannot find a horse, so he rides in on a bull. The he cannot find a mala, so he wraps a snake around his neck. They cannot find tumeric, so he bathed in ash. The moral of it is that "Life Does Not Tern Out Perfectly" #LDNTOP. We make of it what we can. I wish I had a recording for you to listen but alas, #LDNTOP.

It came time to collect the contributions or 'gontributions' if you will. I usually find this part a bit awkward and unpleasant. However, it wasn't like that this time because it didn't seem like I was in the midst of strangers.

That night, Suhaniyo was talking to me about a problem he had. I realized that this was the perfect time to test the listening technique I learned at school. At first, I tried total silence. However, I have a reputation for drifting-off mid conversation. So, he kept on asking me these questions. Like, "Don't you think so?" and "What do you think?" to make sure I was following. At first I just nodded in agreement. But then, I remembered.

Exactly sometime a few years ago or so precisely, I was faced with another friend who had a problem. Let's call 'em 'Pop'. I sort of agreed with everything that Pop was saying but when the time came to say how I feel in front of a larger circle, I panicked and agreed with the majority, though inside, I knew they were wrong. Then, precisely a few months later, which was sometime Three-Hundred-and-Eighty-Five days or so ago, roughly, the situation repeated itself. This time, I agreed with both sides, somewhat but I was too scared to hurt anyone's feelings. So, I pretended to fully agree with both of them. However, when the cards fell, I chose the other side. Pop then reminded me of the previous incident which lead me to realize that this is a pattern with me. If you are reading this Pop, I am sorry.

Coming back to the present which is currently my past because I am writing from the future which is my present which is your past because you are reading from the future which is your present, Suhaniyo kept asking me questions to see if I was listening. I had to respond so that I don't break his flow of speaking but at the same time, I can't just agree with everything he is saying because sometimes I don't. I need to be honest. But! Don't you remember the guidelines of the listening technique? 'No advising!' It was working well so far. So, I didn't want to break that rule now. Perhaps, I should redesign it as per the circumstance. Rules for speakers:

#1 Speaker has to trust that I am listening and that I will tell him when I miss or don't understand something.

#2 If speaker really wants my input, then he has to be ready for any answer I give. Even if it's "I don't know".

These Two rules will enable the listener to follow their guidelines. And it worked marvelously.

The next morning, Jitendra was in a chappal predicament. He bought a new pair from a roadside shop. They were too tight but the salesman assured him that they'd open out in no time and surely enough, they did.

That afternoon, we caught a glimpse of some of Rahul's eye-catching artworks.

Later that afternoon, everybody humored me in learning a bihu folk dance One of my colleagues taught me.

Yeah, not my best moment on the dance floor but whatever.

Tarun and Suhaniyo also showed off their Contact Improv skills.

Seeing as the theme of this Gontri was pralay (ending/new beginning), Hold on. Didn't I mention that? Oh, I guess I forgot. Anyway, we wrote our intentions for this 'new beginning'. They were secret. So, I can't tell you what they were. In fact, we didn't even tell eachother.

I came up with this bit to the tune of udada Punjab:

Gontri ke final chapter ko laga diya aag,

abh banjaye naya rag!

banjaye naya taa ah ah ah ah ah aal,

jai mahakal!

Yeah, not my best moment with on paper but whatever.

That evening, we spontaneously decided to do some improv theater. First, we were the respective families of Jitendra and his wife. The wife's family, came to see whether Jitendra was a suitable groom for her. (They were already married in real life, haha).

Second, we were passengers in a train. My favourite part of this skit was when I (playing a pan wala) secretly, (upon his request) handed Vineet (playing an old man) an imaginary cigarette. He thought that I gave him pan masala (since cigarettes are illegal on trains) and began rubbing it. I was understandably furious that he crushed my precious cigarette which I so kindly sold to him.

Third, we were in a class room. They insisted I be the teacher. I aggressively resolved physical conflicts and taught them how music is actually made by tiny bacteria like creatures that are produced by that instrument. These bacteria swims into your ear and yells into your ear drum. Yeah, not my best moment on stage but whatever.

While all this was going on, One of the participants (whom I won't name to save him the embarrassment) convinced himself that we were conspiring against him. Isn't that right Azad ; )

Ayush came up with an interesting plan (which had nothing to do with killing Azad). He proposed that we create a fund that any of us could use. We could each put a little bit of money in and when someone required funding for a project, they could take some out. I feel it was a brilliant idea.

That night, we decided to go for a long walk. Ujjain is famous for it's Mahakal mandirs. (So much so that the iconic greeting 'namaste' is replaced by an enthusiastic 'jai mahaka' ). So, we visited one. As we reached the river, my already dying stomach made a last wish. To be emptied once again. I ran up and down looking for a toilet which was open that late at night. I needed emotional support, so I called upon Kishlay (who's catch phrase is "Light we take") and who is much like me in many ways according to Karan. After much searching, we finally found One. However, the water in the mug was full of dead mosquitoes and to make matters worse, the tap wasn't working. I realized that if I wait for water to come, I may very well tarnish my reputation of never having soiled my pants. So, I came up with a plan (which again, had nothing to do with killing Azad). I tasked Kishley with finding water and closed the door. Well I couldn't really close it because there was no light inside but you get the point. We pulled of the mission with my reputation (and pants) very much intact.

Which brings me to the next morning. Where we packed-up our things from the dorm and went mandir hopping. The river began calling me again but in a nicer way this time.

We sat right next to the monkeys and pondered to what extent our experiences and memories are corrupted by our egos and the stories we tell ourselves. At this point I began wondering if Azad was conspiring with the monkeys to drowned me in the river.

We were joined by the others. We sat under a tree full of snakeskin and had another round of indescribably beautiful poetry.

After all was said and done and a boatsman refused to take us on a ride (thankfully) it was time for me and Ayush to head for the station. Not before a glass of gana juice and the best roadside snack of all time, Virgin Channa.

We had multiple rounds of goodbyes.

It got me thinking about how a group of people who were strangers to me just a few hours ago, became such close and trusted friends.

Hemant handed me something. He asked me not to look, and so I assumed by the tactile sensation I was feeling that it was the channa peels. Or then again maybe I was just hungry. I had barely eaten in days after all. That's right, even after all that, my stomach still hated me.

And that brings us to the most harrowing journey I've ever made. Ayush and I reached Bhopal. Both of our trains were to arrive at 10:15pm. So, we had aaloo parantha and some more of that heavenly channa. He pointed to and told me about The Red Sea Hotel and how it is incredibly cheap. Hearing the word 'cheap' I immediately thought to myself "Huh, maybe I'll stay there One day".

His train to Sagar reached on time. My train to Bengaluru was delayed by Six hours. There was a strike going on and it was a miracle I got the ticket in the first place.

Where was I? Oh yeah, I was on the platform, waiting for my train which was now scheduled to arrive at 04:30am. It was late and I dosed off. But not to worry, I set an alarm for 03:00am. So that I would have plenty of time to prepare. I woke up on schedule and saw a train departing from the station. I thought to myself "Hey, wouldn't it be crazy if that were my train! Haha, I still have an hour left. Let me check the train's status and see if it got delayed further".

Much to my disarray, I saw that the train had skipped a few stations to make up for an hour. In fact, it was that very train which I saw departing the station. I bet you didn't expect that coming! Neither of course, did I. I was completely blown by what had just happened. And just as I was about to loose all hope that I'd reach home safely, a divine entity whispers "The Red Sea Hotel. It's incredibly cheap".

So, off I went to the nearby hotel. I woke up in the morning feeling fully refreshed. I weighed my options and decided to head for the bus stand. Only, there were no direct buses to Bengaluru. So, I decided to go to Hyderabad first. Only, buses don't go there directly either. So, I'd have to go from Bhopal to Nagpur, from Nagpur to Hyderabad and then finally, from Hyderabad to Bengaluru.

"(Sigh)". But just as I was about to loose all hope in getting home like at all, a divine entity called. It was actually my brother, telling me not to kill myself with an unnecessarily long journey. "Just take a flight" he said. And I realized he was right. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that Bhopal has an airport and I boarded a bus to Indore like a complete idiot.

One of the reasons I decided to go by flight was my stomach. Imagine being on a bus with your intestines threatening to explode. Luckily, I had nothing to worry about. I had a comfortable place to sit and was feeling good. All that was until the bus broke down and they crammed us all into another bus which was already full of passengers. Maybe it was because I was standing for so long, or maybe it was all that channa but my stomach began to erupt. I grabbed a role of toilet paper and squeezed through to the front of the bus. I pleaded with the bus driver "Please, you have to understand. I can't hold it any longer!" "Calm down" said the bus driver. "There is a toll booth right up ahead". And it seemed like it was meant to be. It really was right up ahead and the highway was elevated. So, no one could see me doing my business.

I barely took Two minutes with the pressure that I had accumulated. I was feeling rather proud of myself as I raced towards the bus but much to my disarray, it was nowhere in sight. I ran up and down searching for it but to no avail.

There I was, standing in the middle of the highway holding nothing but a role of toilet paper. And just as I was about to loose all faith in traveling, a divine entity walks up to me. This time it was a man, talking on the phone. He tells me

"tujhe bhi toh sharam ani chahiye na. tu kya latrine baithne gaya? itna der ke liye koi bhi bus nahi rukega" "You should also be feeling ashamed. You went and latrined? No bus would wait that long".

We just stood there for a while as he talked to somebody on the phone

"haan, woh latrine baithne gaya tha". "Yes he went and latrined".

He asked me "bhai, tere saman kaha rakha hain?" "Bro where did you keep your luggage?"

I responded "Aisle ke beench mein, jaha savaari khade the. mera wallet, phone, sabh kuchh us mein hain". "In the middle of the aisle. Where the passengers stand. Everything is in there. My wallet, my phone".

He stopped a random bus at the tollgate and boarded it. I hopped on without a second thought. He kept on telling people that I jumped of the bus and 'latrined' as if it were a verb. One man even appreciated me saying "u r simpal verry gentle-man". Finally, having caught up with our bus, we jumped off, ran and jumped on. I was relieved to see that they had kept my luggage safely. Vineet's piano, my phone, my wallet, all were untouched. They didn't even steal my chappals! And they didn't ask a penny. The Judaeo-Indian inside me was touched. Having survived the most harrowing of journeys, I boarded my plane and landed safely in Bengaluru. On the flight, I began to think about the concepts I have learned from interacting with this community. I brought a few of them together in this poem:

hamme chahiye aazadi,

apni dil ki khush phemi,

thandi hava

aur yeh khulla sa jaha.

khub sara lul kare,

apne laya mein aajaye,

baatlo Zero,

infinite hain yeh lo

kyunki apna ghar

hain ishq mahal

and it is not for sale.

While I was on the bus home. I was listening to songs from the hip hop, Broadway musical about One of America's least recognized founding farthers. That's right "What's ya name man?" Alexander Hamilton. I was again reminded of the fact that #LDNTOP. But this time, I was too tired to see the beauty of it all. I was just looking for a break, something I can bury my trouble in but to no avail. But just as I was about to loose all hope in life, the universe and everything, I pushed the door open and was greeted by a truly divine entity, saying "Welcome home...

And why did you go all the way to Indore when you know that there is an airport in Bhopal, you idiot". To which I responded "I love you too".