Childhood

Dressed in ragged pants and torn shirt, Sheru found himself a place in the shade along the fences of the park. He took out a cloth from his bag and hidden it was zunka bhakar.

As he had the bite of his lunch, he watched the children playing cricket, football and running around in the park. Seeing them reminded him of his childhood days when his heart yearned to play with them but all he could do was see them play as he served tea and washed the cups from the tea stall across the road of the park.

He stared into the park searching for his own image when he felt a tap on his shoulder of another man across the fences who said “Are you going to sit here all day or going to do some work too?”

He got up and put the remaining food covered under the cloth back into his bag and started walking off the park. As he looked back, he knew that the only thing he would never have was a childhood to call his own.

Fate

“I don’t have the change” was Vasu’s reply when the taxi driver asked him for an exact two rupee change.

The driver searched through his pocket and then counted his pennies but he did not had the exact change.  “I don’t have the exact change but here is a lottery ticket of the same price, if you want you can keep it and try your luck said the driver as an unfazed Vasu looked on.

Already late to catch his train back home, he took the lottery in hand, had a look at it and then kept it folded in his wallet.  He walked towards the railway station carrying his suitcase with him.  The lottery ticket had the winning amount of Rs one crore and the result was to be declared three days later.

It was in the middle of the night when Vasu reached his place, traveling through an auto rickshaw.  “How much?” Vasu asked the driver for the fare as he got down.  “It would be forty two rupees” he said.  He took out his wallet and handed him four notes of 10 rupees.  He started searching his wallet for the pennies and then his pockets but could not find any.  “I don’t have the two rupee” he told the driver hoping that he would let that go.  The driver stared at him and said “Sahab, check properly, even a two rupee makes a difference in our life” the driver remarked.  “I don’t’ have any.  I could have brought the change if the shops were open, but its not.  Where should I bring an exact change in the middle of the night?” Vasu flared up.  The driver still did not change his stand.

Standing outside his building, he remembered about the lottery ticket and took it out from his wallet.  “Here is a lottery ticket of the same amount, you can take it and then sell it to someone else or you can try your luck with it” said Vasu handing over the ticket and waiting for the driver to take it.  The driver took the ticket in his hand, looked over it and then said “Kya sahab aap bhi….” made a face and then started his engine and took off.

A couple of days later in the morning when Vasu woke up and took the paper to read.  The headline read “Beggar becomes a Millionaire”.  It made him think about the lottery ticket that he gave to the auto driver and wondered if it was the same lottery ticket.

The news report said that the beggar found the lottery ticket in his begging bowl and decided to keep it to “try out his luck”.  He could not stop thanking the unknown stranger who changed his life by putting the lottery ticket in his bowl.

The Parody of Funeral

A few years back, I got a call at home from an ex-colleague informing me about another colleague’s father passing away.  Just a few days back, I had spoken to him when he called me up asking about my blood type.  I was not sure what to do and took the cell phone in my hand.  I was thinking of calling him up but then it struck me what was I going to say to him?

I was at loss of words on what I should say to him?  I finally decided against calling him up and planned to pay a visit to his house with the help of common colleagues.  That did not happen and I was not able to offer my condolences to him (given that we were working in different locations) and I was not sure what I was going to say to him even if we did met or spoke.

This holds true even for today, where I don’t know how to react to the news of passing away of people I know.  Most of the times, I have just kept quite; just made my presence felt and offered support when required.  My problem is that I cannot fake sympathy or tell someone that it happens when the pain of the death of someone close passing away always brings sorrow and cannot be smoothened with words.  All I can do is offer support so that they can get back to their lives.

What amuses me though that an event like a funeral can also end up a place full of mockery!!

I remember this one time, when a family had lost their bread winner and they were going with the process of “Antim Sanskar” (The final rituals followed), when a man to whom the deceased owed money started telling others about it.  By evening the deceased’s family came to know about it and the man even approached them the next day.  I can understand the man worried about getting his money back but couldn’t he have waited for a few days before giving another shock to the family.  Dealing with death itself can be hard at times and to hear such things on the same day can be brutal.

The strangest thing happened when my aunt passed away.  The feast for the Theravi (the thirteenth day after the funeral) was served and I ended up sharing a table with a bunch of strangers.  The food was served and everybody began eating when an old villager complained about the salt in the food.  I was amused by his reaction.  I stared at him for a minute or two which he noticed.  Later his neighbor told him about the relation that I shared with the one who passed away.

Had it been any another occasion, I would not have mind them at all but it happened on a time when a funeral had taken place and that they were having a feast because of it.  I guess it did not help him to know that someone belonging to the deceased family heard it.  I do wonder if following such a tradition is worth it.  Where the people invited sometimes have scant regard for the nature of the event.

Around a year back, I attended a funeral of an elderly.  This time round I observed a few interacting and taking updates from each other.  This of course did not happen in front of the deceased family but then there was a laughter which was loud enough that everyone heard it.  Have people forget their manners on how to behave?

I wonder if a Do’s and Don’t list should be issued so that such people know how to behave at funerals.  Have seen people who made their presence felt not to offer their condolences but because they “had to” due to the societal obligations.

"Unless one is a victim,
they never know what the other goes through"

P.S.:  This post had been lying in the cold storage for more than a year.  I wrote it, discarded it and then it came back to haunt me, time and again.  So I decided to exorcize it by posting it.


On a different note, Shas has awarded me with the Blogger Buddy Award.  Thanks buddy :)