By Olivia Lyngdoh Mawlong
There are some moments from your childhood which never die. A fleeting moment of happiness, a flash of sadness, a dash of surprise and an unforgettable face, they recur in your solitude. A mother now, I find it interesting to ponder upon those moments and list the names, places, animals and humans which shine like stars in the blankness of my racing mind. And when after years you suddenly stumble upon those names, places, animals and humans, you tend to relive the moment that was.
A busy morning interrupted by an unexpected voice. There was familiarity but uncertainty too. Who could that be? Never mind. But I had to leave my chores and come out on the portico as my five-year-old daughter was screaming with excitement. And who do I see? A flash of my childhood memory. Uncle, I refer to the gentleman, stooping under age.
Ramchandra Rai is 85 and looks frail. He has changed a lot in the last 30 years with wrinkles taking over his dark brown spirited face. His eyes have lost the sparkle of a young man. But one thing has remained the same. His smile. I could never forget that smile, especially when he extended his hand to offer the unique Bombay Mithai.
Rai, who is originally from Bihar but is living in Shillong since childhood, started selling Bombay Mithai when he was 13, more out of compulsion than choice. His grandparents also stayed in Shillong, Rai informed.
Bombay Mithai is not exactly a variety of sweetmeat. Rather, it is a kind of chewing gum that melts in your mouth. The recipe is simple, Rai divulges after 30 years when I told him how curious I was as a child to know what was in there. “It is made of sugar and lemon,” he said but forgot to mention love.
The chewy sweet thing is wrapped around a bamboo pole and covered with plastic to save it from the dust and pollution. Rai said the pole itself is 60 years old. It has been Rai’s companion in good times as well as bad, in rain and shine. With it and a bell, the Mithai-man goes to every nook and cranny.
Bombay Mithai sold at 10p when we were children and before that for 1p. But now with inflation, Rai sells it at Rs 5. “I love children and I love when small things make them happy,” Rai said as he tore off some chewy sweet and started making a flower for my daughter, who was watching the octogenarian keenly.
He can make different shapes out of the chewy mithai like necklace, smoking pipe, snake, crab and watch.
Did he remember me? Rai kept quiet for sometime lest his denial offended me. When I gave him some more details, his face instantly lit up. “Now I remember your face. You have changed a lot. And now you have a daughter who is exactly your age when I would come this side,” said the old man and informed that he kept changing his routes.
Rai starts work at 8am everyday and goes back home by 5pm. He walks as far as Happy Valley and Mawlai. But with age distances have shortened and Rai now mostly goes to Lumparing, Bishnupur, Madan Laban and Assam Rifles.
The father of five children who stays in Qualapatty said he never thought of leaving Shillong because “it is my home now”. He earns around Rs 400-500 after a hard day.
Rai said he is the only person who sells Bombay Mithai in the city but rued that today’s children have better options and many of them are not attracted by the uniqueness of the sweet that he sells. “Nonetheless, there is joy in this work as there are days like this when I meet people like you who know me and their children are grown up. They introduce me to their children and remember the old days,” said Rai with a smile that showed the remaining decaying teeth which clung loosely to his gums.
Thank you for reappearing, I told him but not in words. I could not. Some moments of childhood were randomly coming to my mind. I was too lost to be articulate. I could only hold ‘uncle’s’ right hand and smoothen the wrinkles trying to assure him that we would always remember him and his Bombay Mithai.
