Sita and Shahid

“Sitamarhi,” he said.

“Oh, Bihar.”

Pat came a reply from Shahid: “Yes, where Sita was born apparently.”

Shahid was a recluse. True to his name, which meant ‘witness’ in Urdu, he saw more and spoke less. To add to his character, his shyness would often stop him from expressing his general norm.

We were batchmates in college. I won’t call him a friend though. We hardly conversed. He hardly conversed.

However, there is one thing that stood out and I remember it to this day — his comment on Rakshabandhan. “Of all the Hindu festivals I like Rakhi.”

He would substantiate so by detailing how personal and intimate Rakshabandhan is. Not noisy like Deepavali has become or rowdy as Holi seems to be.

Shahid spoke Maithili at home. He is from Sitamarhi district. He was a believer, I believe. But he would also lay great emphasis on his Maithili linguistic identity.

“Maithili has a unique sweetness to it. The language has a respectable tone,” he’d say.

I guess he was implying that it isn’t coarse compared to Bhojpuri/Purbi. One could clearly sense his urge to distinguish Maithili from other Bihari/Bhojpuri languages. And one can excuse his chauvinism or pride considerating most of us non-Biharis view everyone from the UP-Bihar belt as Bhojpuri.

Painting everyone with the same brush, maybe.

Shahid’s village was not far from the Nepal border. I remember him pointing out how Nepali authorities would be shifting their border posts further south gradually and steadily. There are paddy fields, so not very difficult to do that, according to him.

When I asked him what the government was doing about it? He sighed, “Nothing, apparently.”

Nothing.