Friday, April 4, 2008

THE BOY

The boy was standing on the other side of the road.A dirty vest and a pair of half pants covered his lanky structure.Barefooted he tried to catch the attention of every passerby.When I crossed the road,he came walking towards me.Nearer as he came he held out a newspaper from the whole lot that he was holding.

'O Madam, ek lelo na' he said,his voice was shrill I heard as he kept coming nearer to me.

'Ek paper lelo madam,Padh lena fursat se.Padhne se badha aadmi ban jate hain,aap aur bhi badha ban jaogi madam,padh lo ye paper.'

'Tumhe kisne kaha ki padhne se badha aadmi ban jate hain?' I couldnot stop myself from asking.Immediately he replied,

'Baba kehta tha.Hum to padhai nai kia isliye hum kabhi badha aadmi nahi ban sakta hai madam,isliye hum kehta hai yeh paper lelo'.

I was amazed by the boy's salesmanship.Barely in his teens he pleaded to me in his unique ways to buy the newspaper.I was least interested in the in the paper,I had already read it in the morning.What caught my surprise was the boy,his lanky structure,his dirty clothes,his shrill voice and his things he was saying.

'Tumhara naam kya hai?'
'Sonu'
'Achha Sonu,ek baat batao,tumhara baba yeh janta tha ki padhna,likhna kitna zaruri hai,phir unhone tumhe kyun nahi padhaya'.
'Baba to chahta tha ki hum khub padhe,badha admi bane.Usne to apne school mein bhi dala tha.Hum to kuch din schhol gaya tha madam.Par jab Baba mar gaya to humko khana hi naseeb nahi hota tha to school ka fees hum kaise deta?'
'Tumhare Baba ki maut kaise hui aur tumhari maa ne tumhe padhane ki koshish nahi ki?'
'Baba to driver tha ek school ka,accident mein mar gaya,Apni maa to apne ko paida karte waqt hi mar gayi thi.'
'To phir tum kiske saath rehte ho Sonu?'
'Akela rehta hai,kisika saath ka kya zarurat.Tum paper lega ki nahi bolo madam,khalipili baat kar k mera taim barbad mut karo',Humko yeh saara paper bechna hai abhi'.

The boy was getting impatient by now.He must have sensed that I was not interested in the newspaper he was trying to sell.I wanted to talk to him but he was short of time.He had work to do.At this tender age when the time for him was to play,go to school and live a life of comfort under the love and care of elders this boy was busy making a few bucks.......a living for himself. My heart ached for thousands of such faceless,nameless,poor childern who spent each day of their life struggling to earn a living.Burdened with their own lives they expect nothing more than three meals a day,few clothes to cover up and a little shelter.Are their demands too much to be granted.We as responsible citizens of our country are so selfishly engrossed in our lives that we hardly pay any heed to the woes of children poor children around us.I stood their thinking about my unnecessary luxuries that I indulge in,when these little ones fight for the basic amnetities.I was feeling ashamed of myself when suddenly the shrill voice called again

'Arre o madam,kya sochne lagi,ek 4 rupiya ka paper lene k pehle itna sochogi kya?'
'Acha dedo ek,English wala dena'.
The boy handed the newspaper to me and muttered
'Yeh badhe logon ki baat hi alag hoti hai,ek paper lene k pehle bhi itna sochte hain....4 rupiya dena'

I took the newspaper from him,searched my hand bag and took out a 500 rupee note and handed it over to him.He looked at me amusingly and said

'4 rupaiya madam,400 nahi.4 rupaiya do.'
I handed out the note to him and said 'pata hai 4 rupiya, yeh lo'.
'chhutta nahi hai mere paas' came the crisp reply.

'Chhutte ka zarurat nahi,tum rakh lo isko,isse tum kitab kharidna English aur Hindi ki.Tum padhna chahte hona?Kitaab kharidna aur padhna.Yeh saamne wala ghar mera hai,agar samajhne mein dikkat hui to kitaab lekar mere paas aa jana,main tumko padha dungi.'
The boy stared at me for some time in a perplexed manner and then of a sudden he started shouting at me violently.

'Tum paise wale log apne ko kya amajhta hai?Sirf tumlog hi izzatdaar hai kya is duniya mein?Hum gariblog ka kya koi izzat nahi ?Hum gareeb zarur hai madam par hum mehnat karta hai.Rakho tum apna khairaat apne paas,nahi chahiye humko.Hum bhooke marega magar kabhi kisi se bheek nahi lega.Hamara baba humko sikha k gaya ki kabhi kisi k aage hath nahi failana.Hum mazdoor hai,gareeb hai par bhikari nahi hai.Lao hamara paper wapas.Nahi bechna hai tumko paper.Ek to bakbak kar k mera itna taim barbad kiya,uper se humko bheek dene aya hai.Humko padhna hoga to hum mehnat,mazdoori kar k padh hi lega,warna duniya mein bohut log anpadh hi reh jate hain,kisiko kya jata hai.hum bhi anoadh raha to tumhare baap ka kya jaega.Badha aya dildaari karne,bheek dene chala hai humko.'

He snatched the paper from my hand and went away grumbling in his own.I stood their with the note in my hand.People in the road gathered around me but I stood there.His verbal outburst was so acerbic and violent that I couldnot even move for few mintues.This was a complete shock for me as I never exected the person to react in this way whom I tried to help.When I regained my composure I walked back to my home.

The misfortune bestowed upon the young boy was the cause of his outburst.His pains which he has been supressing all these years was suddenly visible in his eyes and his words.His mouth was pouring out venom that has been injected into him by this harsh world over all this years.I had hurt him on his wound.Unintentionally,I made a mockery of his poverty and helplessness,bruising his self-respect which was his only possession in this wide world.I wish I get chance to meet him again,a chance to clarify that he got me wrong,a chance to apologise.

3 comments:

I can't write!!!! said...

Nice story. Looked like was goin thru Big B's 70's movie.

I can't write!!!! said...

Nice story. Looked like was goin thru Big B's 70's movie.

Anonymous said...

I am sure this is a true incident. Because the tone of words speak of authenticity and truth. Mostly in stories which are fiction they try to be too clumsy to be true!

Again, Nice free flowing write-up!