The Circle

It was a dark night. With a strong drizzle that threatened to transform into a heavy shower – one that characterizes Mumbai every July now. Sumant sighed and stepped out into the rain pulling his wind cheater tighter around him knowing that it was futile and that he was going to be drenched by the time he got home.

The worst part was that his home was so close to office that no rickshawalla would agree to go there. As Sumant walked along the deserted sidewalk, his thoughts were all on what happened at work today. While he always knew his boss, Priya did not like him, he had not realized how deep the dislike ran. He wondered how it had come to this and also what he had actually done to bring about this rift.

The previous 2 months had not been good for him professionally with 2 of his plum orders going to their competitor. While neither Priya nor he knew how this had happened, the entire thing had created a major misunderstanding between them with blame being traded from both sides. Now today, Sumant had learnt that he had lost yet another client to the same competitor. This was the last straw!

Tomorrow, as he well knew, Priya would surely have a so called “we need to talk” kind of meeting with him. For all he knew, he might as well start looking out for a new job. Things couldn’t possibly be worse!

In his reverie, Sumant hadn’t realized he had forgotten to take a left turn off the main road. Cursing, he was about to turn back when he saw a light burning ahead. He knew it came from a small chai shop which served piping hot tea all night long. Suddenly, a nice cup of tea seemed like a good idea as he was anyway close to the stall.

He quickly walked the remaining few yards and ducked under the low shanty roof. He had barely sat himself down on the rough wooden bench when he felt a small hand take his and tug on it. Sumant looked down to see a small boy, maybe 6 years old, wearing a tattered old school shirt 2 sizes too big for him and dark shorts. In response to Sumant’s raised brow, the boy pointed to the big oil lamp kept on the bench at the opposite side. Perplexed, Sumant looked at the tea stall owner for an explanation and that’s when he realized that the little boy was only asking him to sit closer to the lamp so he could warm himself.

He slowly crossed over and sat down cupping the hot cup of chai in his palms. Taking his first sip, he looked at the boy again and saw that he was still staring at him in an amused manner. Something gave way and Sumant felt his lips finally crack into a smile not being able to resist the boy’s enthusiasm. That’s when the tea stall owner told him, the little boy was deaf and dumb.

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The little boy was called Raju by whoever knew him. They knew he lived in a hovel somewhere off the main road where the tea stall was but no one knew where exactly. He appeared at the tea stall everyday without fail and assisted customers to find a place to sit, cleaned used glasses and ran small errands. For his efforts, the tea stall owner paid him twenty to thirty rupees depending on the day’s business.

 

It was now 4 am and the rain had abated a little. Raju left the tea stall and skipped his way home. His “home” was in an abandoned construction site amidst decaying piles of bricks and dripping half built pillars. He lived with his mother and 2 sisters and they had made their home in one corner of this huge derelict. He reached home and saw his sisters fast asleep covered by the one tattered quilt they used. They were very protective about him, as he was the youngest. They spent most of the evening and night winding fresh flowers they bought from the wholesale market into small garlands which they sold to the flower stall at a nearby temple and were tired out as usual.

He saw a glow emanating from somewhere behind them and knew his mother must be heating a small pot of water over the fire she had built painstakingly using bits or paper and some dried twigs that was scattered over the site.

Raju entered and went straight to his amma, as he thought of her. Amma looked up and saw her little son dripping from the rain. She pulled him into the warm circle created by the little flames she had managed to generate and used her saree pallu to try and wipe his locks dry.

Right about now would be the time that he would put his hand into his pocket and give her the little money the tea stall owner gave him with a small face, knowing that it wouldn’t make too much difference to their day. Here he was delving into his pocket for the two or three notes he would hand over to her and here his hand came out with a………a hundred rupee note accompanied by three ten rupee notes??!!

 

She looked at Raju and she now noticed the difference – today his features were lit by a brilliant and happy smile.

To be continued...