I quietlymoved out while Sumi kept on throwing questions at me. It was a plush area with Merc and Honda City covering up the parking place. I owned a relatively down-looked car in that area. I preferred a walk in the hot sun, it wasn’t something new, I was used to it. As I stepped out of premises, world seemed bizarre. Everyone had a purpose, the auto driver, fruit sellers…it was a small market just outside the housing society. I walked through the shops, and moved to a quieter place, the paan shop. I lighted up a cigarette, it was a no smoking zone but people hardly paid any heed to government rules. It was blown with the smoke. Where are you? We need to go for shopping? It was Sumi. She had been a good wife but a complaining types, may be because she expected me to earn some more, she expected me to break into reserve bank of India and steal few millions or may be she expected me to sell my morale and be just another common stupid man. This was the only problem with her…she was money minded, and money is happiness for we the Indians. I wasn’t earning less, but I wasn’t cashing in crores. Ignoring the message I walked without any purpose and headed towards the slum, the area that was considered to be a black spot on the housing society. Very soon I had to take out a piece of cloth and cover my nostrils; I didn’t dare to step forward. Dingy lanes, houses having no doors, a woman clad in single piece of cloth…the sight was distressing. I moved further. Little shops all around, filled with noise and everyone looked at me suspiciously. I was a foreigner in their Iceland! A small temple not bigger than my store room was probably the only place where thousands went for meditation. People were dark, unlike us, may be due to the pollution or genes, but they had a smile unlike us!
It was more of an exploration for me, although as a child I had seen poverty but never saw slum, it was intriguing. I was brought up in the fields if not born there and spent most of my childhood feeding the cattle or staying up with bapu in the fields for little help that I could afford. My eyes never saw toys, I never touched a bat, was alien to dumb charades. The only sport that whole village kids played was football, rather it was a mass of plastics rolled and tied into a single piece. I remember I had touched the ball twice, among some 50 odd kids chasing the ball as if it would run away if they don’t run behind it! And later when I left the village, I heard it was stolen. I could understand the pain of my friends, although they weren’t, and the void that the football created in their minds. But human beings are so cute idiots that they tend to fill the void sooner, or later be it a football or own blood. I lost my son; or rather he wasn’t interested to see the state of affairs of the world or to be more precise India. He left us when he was 2 days old, lived too long to create flashes of memory that haunted me at times.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
In search of Love, Life, Laughter!
Not all have a wonderful past, a bright future and a vibrant present! My thoughts wandered to and fro.
A boy on the verge of teenage, walking miles, hairs ruffled with extra oil, hands protruding out of torn button less shirt, shorts without any zip and legs without any slippers, carrying a slate and few pieces of chalk in his hand, looked tensed. He was already late for the class. Fighting with his destiny, his own family, against the society, he had one thing in his cortex, Money. He had seen much at a small age.
From a playful boy who had servants all around him to selling coal pieces in the evening to earn a few coins so that he could continue with his high school, from being a powerful family in the village employing others to working in others fields for a meal on weekends, life was a mixed bag for this kid. With focused eyes, and long strides he made his way through the fields challenging the sun and the loo. After some 40 minutes afternoon walk which wasn’t doing any good to his health, he reached a small hut in between few trees. He could breathe easy now but was late. The headmaster blabbered few slangs to each one of them as he called out the names for attendance, stopped for a while, looked at the boy and said-“call your bapu tomorrow, tell him, I’ve to talk to him!” Mid day meals was something that no one thought of at that time, there laid a hand pump which seldom provided water to the thirsty. It was tough ask for everyone.
Next day the headmaster and the boy’s father had a long conversation.
“Why don’t you take him to the city, he is the brightest student, and has a zeal to learn?”
“Sarkar, we don’t want him to study, who will take care of the farming?” He is the elder son, and my heath is also an issue. We can’t afford to spend an extra penny. He wanted to learn, we sent him to you, we could do nothing more.”
And it took lot of praise and assuring words from the head master before his father was convinced. And the kid now had a future. He could dream now.
“What are you upto Dev? Have your breakfast.” A voice interrupted. I woke up as if from a slumber and with lazy steps moved to the dining table. Life was so different now, and a well deserved life. Although the honesty inside me had died long ago when I took my first bribe for improper construction work in the local area, but it was for my family. The government salary was little too less to afford the house chores, my daughter’s demands and my wife’s leisure. My principals were thrown out of the house the day my wife entered the two bedroom flat with all modern facilities. I don’t blame her; she had a rich father and a caring mother.
I quietly sat on the chair and ate up what was before me. And my wife kept on throwing her demands for a maid servant, a new sofa set and some wood work that would make me sad and other neighbours jealous. My wife was 3 years younger to me, but she held key to everything. I was just another wood work in my own lavish house, although many claimed that I had a perfect family, with a beautiful wife and a lovely daughter. But alas! I moved out of the dining room and looked out of the balcony, very few had the luxury of a balcony, but this luxury gave a distressed sight of slum. It turned me off, I went to the living room but television these days were filled with unrealistic shows. I was wasting my Sunday, although this wasn’t new but the feeling was more prominent today.
A boy on the verge of teenage, walking miles, hairs ruffled with extra oil, hands protruding out of torn button less shirt, shorts without any zip and legs without any slippers, carrying a slate and few pieces of chalk in his hand, looked tensed. He was already late for the class. Fighting with his destiny, his own family, against the society, he had one thing in his cortex, Money. He had seen much at a small age.
From a playful boy who had servants all around him to selling coal pieces in the evening to earn a few coins so that he could continue with his high school, from being a powerful family in the village employing others to working in others fields for a meal on weekends, life was a mixed bag for this kid. With focused eyes, and long strides he made his way through the fields challenging the sun and the loo. After some 40 minutes afternoon walk which wasn’t doing any good to his health, he reached a small hut in between few trees. He could breathe easy now but was late. The headmaster blabbered few slangs to each one of them as he called out the names for attendance, stopped for a while, looked at the boy and said-“call your bapu tomorrow, tell him, I’ve to talk to him!” Mid day meals was something that no one thought of at that time, there laid a hand pump which seldom provided water to the thirsty. It was tough ask for everyone.
Next day the headmaster and the boy’s father had a long conversation.
“Why don’t you take him to the city, he is the brightest student, and has a zeal to learn?”
“Sarkar, we don’t want him to study, who will take care of the farming?” He is the elder son, and my heath is also an issue. We can’t afford to spend an extra penny. He wanted to learn, we sent him to you, we could do nothing more.”
And it took lot of praise and assuring words from the head master before his father was convinced. And the kid now had a future. He could dream now.
“What are you upto Dev? Have your breakfast.” A voice interrupted. I woke up as if from a slumber and with lazy steps moved to the dining table. Life was so different now, and a well deserved life. Although the honesty inside me had died long ago when I took my first bribe for improper construction work in the local area, but it was for my family. The government salary was little too less to afford the house chores, my daughter’s demands and my wife’s leisure. My principals were thrown out of the house the day my wife entered the two bedroom flat with all modern facilities. I don’t blame her; she had a rich father and a caring mother.
I quietly sat on the chair and ate up what was before me. And my wife kept on throwing her demands for a maid servant, a new sofa set and some wood work that would make me sad and other neighbours jealous. My wife was 3 years younger to me, but she held key to everything. I was just another wood work in my own lavish house, although many claimed that I had a perfect family, with a beautiful wife and a lovely daughter. But alas! I moved out of the dining room and looked out of the balcony, very few had the luxury of a balcony, but this luxury gave a distressed sight of slum. It turned me off, I went to the living room but television these days were filled with unrealistic shows. I was wasting my Sunday, although this wasn’t new but the feeling was more prominent today.
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