<p>At 19 years, armed with a mining diploma, and a job offer by the Indian Bureau of Mines, I travelled to Ajmer. The ticket cost 45 rupees, which was a large sum then. Kind TTs helped me on the way to Bombay and at Ahmedabad, as I could converse only in Kannada and English. As the Ajmer passenger train stopped at Marwar station, I looked out of the window eager to glimpse the heart of Rajasthan. </p>.<p>A colourfully-dressed hawker entered the compartment. He started to pat my head. I wondered what he was doing, it was annoying and I asked him to stop. But he persisted then muttered something that sounded like the word ‘polish’. Thinking he wanted to polish my shoes, I gave them to him. This emboldened him. He took the liberty to pour oil on my head and started beating it, with his fingers and palms. I struggled to push him away as he was quite strong. Much later, I came to know that this was in fact <span class="italic"><em>telmalish</em> </span>or oil massage. Back in Bangalore, we had oil baths only in private.</p>.<p>As the train was nearing Ajmer it began to get colder and I was dressed only in cotton. I rolled down the shirt sleeves, but it was no use. By now the compartment was nearly empty.</p>.<p>The train reached Ajmer at night after three days of travelling. A railway porter hefted my holdall and quickly walked me to a joint only a hundred metres from the station. There was a person at the counter who guided me to a cot and gestured me to sleep well.</p>.<p>The stars shone brightly above me as I slept. I thought it was a special room with a view. The night was so cold that I put the holdall on top of me and slept. I realised only in the morning that I had been sleeping on the terrace. The porter had apparently pleaded on my behalf, not to turn me away as I was a stranger and did not know the local language.</p>.<p>I got ready and searched for the address of my reporting office. The officer to whom I reported, was surprised to see me holding the appointment letter. He said I looked like a kid. Maybe seventeen years? Was I sure? he asked. I was administered oath on the Constitution of India. </p>.<p> I felt like I was Rana Pratap come alive.</p>
<p>At 19 years, armed with a mining diploma, and a job offer by the Indian Bureau of Mines, I travelled to Ajmer. The ticket cost 45 rupees, which was a large sum then. Kind TTs helped me on the way to Bombay and at Ahmedabad, as I could converse only in Kannada and English. As the Ajmer passenger train stopped at Marwar station, I looked out of the window eager to glimpse the heart of Rajasthan. </p>.<p>A colourfully-dressed hawker entered the compartment. He started to pat my head. I wondered what he was doing, it was annoying and I asked him to stop. But he persisted then muttered something that sounded like the word ‘polish’. Thinking he wanted to polish my shoes, I gave them to him. This emboldened him. He took the liberty to pour oil on my head and started beating it, with his fingers and palms. I struggled to push him away as he was quite strong. Much later, I came to know that this was in fact <span class="italic"><em>telmalish</em> </span>or oil massage. Back in Bangalore, we had oil baths only in private.</p>.<p>As the train was nearing Ajmer it began to get colder and I was dressed only in cotton. I rolled down the shirt sleeves, but it was no use. By now the compartment was nearly empty.</p>.<p>The train reached Ajmer at night after three days of travelling. A railway porter hefted my holdall and quickly walked me to a joint only a hundred metres from the station. There was a person at the counter who guided me to a cot and gestured me to sleep well.</p>.<p>The stars shone brightly above me as I slept. I thought it was a special room with a view. The night was so cold that I put the holdall on top of me and slept. I realised only in the morning that I had been sleeping on the terrace. The porter had apparently pleaded on my behalf, not to turn me away as I was a stranger and did not know the local language.</p>.<p>I got ready and searched for the address of my reporting office. The officer to whom I reported, was surprised to see me holding the appointment letter. He said I looked like a kid. Maybe seventeen years? Was I sure? he asked. I was administered oath on the Constitution of India. </p>.<p> I felt like I was Rana Pratap come alive.</p>