Better Bitter

I was sitting at a friend’s place in Delhi when he said, “There is too much bad news and views on the social media. We need to cut it down.” His wife immediately said, “No, there is also a lot of good news available but maybe you tend to see more of the negative things, especially in many of your WA groups, who constantly share extreme views that you find offensive which in turn colours your perspective of the world as extreme, offensive and dark. The bitterness and negativity that you get bombarded with repeatedly is what upsets you and blinds you to the good that is happening around in your viewing zone.” And that is when we started sharing some simple, everyday stories of the common man which never get highlighted and often get lost in the din and cluttered dark world of religion, politics, ego and show.

The Wet Crow

Picture courtesy: Internet

The sky gods had erupted over Mumbai and it had been raining uninterrupted for many hours. These are times when getting an auto or cab gets so much more difficult. The roads are chock-o-blocked with bumper to bumper traffic. Amit was lucky to have got an auto-rickshaw that day and was happily watching one reel after another as the vehicle slowly made its way from his workplace to home. After a short smooth run, the auto came to grinding halt on one of the flyovers leading closer to his home. He saw a young man with an umbrella standing on one side, for there was no room for him to walk in the congested road. He appeared to be completely wet as his umbrella had turned inside out in the gusty wind conditions, while the rain continued to pour incessantly. He appeared completely drenched, wet as a crow. Amit put out his hand and asked the young man:

Are you wanting to walk down the flyover?

Yes, Sir.

Hop in. I will drop you.

The boy readily agreed and found himself in the comfort of the rick which was dry and safe. The driver, turned back and smiled at him and said… aaraam se baith ja bhai.

The rick started moving slowly but steadily. As the rick reached the lower end of the flyover, Amit asked the boy…

Is this where you wish to get off or further somewhere?

Actually, I have to go to Piramal Nagar…and he started checking the Google Maps for his destination.

I know where Piramal Nagar is and that is very close to where I am going, so just keep sitting.

After a while, the auto slowed down to allow the young man to get off at Piramal Nagar. The boy offered to pay Amit some part of the auto fare which he simply refused. The youngster then said,

Sir, can I have your name and phone number please. I am Vijay Srinivasan and work with E&Y.

Amit smiled and said…what will you do with my name. Anyway, I am Amit Chandra and I work for an insurance company.

The youngster thanked Amit profusely.

I have never met a good soul like you before.

Amit just smiled and the auto moved on. Later in the evening, Amit got a LinkedIn invitation from Vijay which he gladly accepted.

Usman Meherbaan

Rajib was a teacher in a municipal school at Kolkata’s Shyambazaar. He would go to the school in the morning and, after the classes got over, he would sit down with the children who were weak in Mathematics and English. Most of his students came from slums around the school since parents who could afford better schools would never send their children to the municipal schools which were in a perennially dilapidated state and lacked basic amenities including teachers. Rajib was a bachelor in his mid-forties and would enjoy his time either cooking, when he was not with his books, or with children. He could cook, both the regular stuff as well as exotic Bengali dishes. He was a pucca foodie and would at times go to the nearby shops and ask them to deliver their specialties.

One place that Rajib loved was the old bakery shop of Usman at Shyambazaar. He was a regular customer there on most evenings where he would pick up a small bite and enjoy it with the kullad chai in the shop next door. The items at Usman’s bakery were extremely tasty, fresh and easy on the pocket. The funny part was that Usman’s best seller chicken patty was priced at Rs 20, the egg patty at Rs 25 and the paneer patty at Rs 30. Everyone wondered how chicken could be cheaper than eggs and why should the veg paneer patty be the most expensive. No one ever questioned Usman Bhai who always sat behind the counter while a few youngsters managed the customers with the orders.

One evening Rajib felt the urge to eat his favourite chicken-garlic patty and off he went walking to the shop which was about five hundred metres from his home. While walking, he started visualizing the gentle piece of patty which once put in the mouth would melt faster than Kwailty ice-cream. In no time he reached the shop, greeted Usman Bhai and the girl at the counter, both of whom knew him well. While looking for options, Rajib noticed a bare-footed girl from the street in shabby clothes standing in front of him. She was also looking at the options and reading the price written in front of each. She then started counting the coins in her palm…one at a time. It was quite obvious that she had got the money from the motorists while standing at the red light at the street crossing opposite Usman’s shop.  Rajib was taken aback when he noticed that a tiny girl, no more than a couple of years old, who was also tugging at the skirt of the girl with the coins and pointing to the chicken rolls on display. The girl, by then, had realized that she did not have enough money and so she went out of the shop dragging the little one who was crying to have been denied her treat.

Rajib asked the girl in the counter to pack two chicken garlic patties for Rs 20 apiece and two chicken rolls for Rs 25 apiece. After paying to Usman Bhai, he took out the packet containing the rolls, bent down a little and handed it over to the girl who was sitting outside the shop playing with some more friends. Rajib did not wait to see the child’s expression. He just straightened his back and started briskly walking. He reached home in no time and initially took out one of the patties and ate it in no time. It tasted just too good. Now, he could not resist eating the next one immediately. He deserved a second helping today for sure for as they say, one good eat, deserves another….

Picture courtesy: Internet

The Flower Girl

Senthil had a standard Sunday morning routine. Early morning, he would rush to the door to get hold of the crisp newspapers, The Hindu and The Indian Express. He would make two nice cups of tea, one for his wife, Uma, and one for himself, take two Britannia Marie biscuits and sit down on the floor to go through the newspapers cover to cover. No one was allowed to disturb him for an hour and a half and by then Uma would have made some breakfast that he would gulp down and end up with a cup of strong filter coffee. Now he was battle ready…. He would take his two bags and walk away to Kodambakkam Municipal market to get fresh vegetables and fruits and fish of his choice. Come sun, come rain, Senthil always followed the same pattern every Sunday morning.

There was more to this routine. On the way to the market, Senthil passed the beautiful Ayyappa Temple. At times he would go inside the temple, say his small prayer to Lord Ayyappa and drop in a coin or two in the hundi kept at the entrance. On days when he did not have the change in the morning, he would make sure he got some change at the market and he would without fail put the coins on the return leg of his Sunday sojourn.

A couple of weeks ago, while walking past the temple, Senthil noticed a lady selling flowers to the devotees. Behind her, he saw a little girl, no more than two years old, playing alone with some small sticks and stones that she would have found on the road. There was something in the girl’s look that caught Senthil’s attention and he stopped for a moment. The girl had a round face with glowing eyes and she had a big cheek to cheek smile which would melt anyone’s heart and make them fall in love with the little one. Senthil was amazed at the simplicity and beauty of a kid who had no fancy clothes and shoes to wear, no toys to play with and yet was happy with what she had. And then Senthil moved towards the market place.

After finishing his regular purchases, Senthil went to the grocery store and asked for two packets of Parle G Gold and paid Rs 20 for the same. He put the packets in his bag and planned to give one to the little girl on the road and the other one, he wanted to give to the guards in his housing society, for they would always do their duty well and treated him and Uma with respect. As he came close to the temple, Senthil saw the basket of flowers at the same place but neither the woman nor the little child could be seen. He waited for some time but there was no sign of the duo. He then decided to walk home and was feeling bad that he could not give the biscuit to the kid and see her smile one more time. He walked for about hundred metres then decided to go back to the spot one more time. Not finding the mother and the child, Senthil just took out the packet of Parle G and just left it on top of the flowers and returned home after giving the second packet to the guards at the gate.

Senthil just prayed that no one else would take away the biscuit which belonged to the little girl and imagined how happy she would be to enjoy a full packet of crisp biscuits.

That evening, Senthil and Uma were to go to a friend’s place and as he sat on the driver’s seat and pulled the seat belt across, he saw some notes jutting out of the small storage space on the inside of the car door below the window. He remembered, a couple of days ago he had gone to pick up his friend at the airport and paid the parking attendant a five hundred rupee note and got back three hundred and twenty. Instead of putting it in his wallet or trouser pocket, he had just kept the change in the small space below the window. However, he forgot to take the money from there after reaching home. Vignesh, the boy who came to clean the car, had seen the money in the last two days and yet had left it untouched even though this money would have meant a lot to him. Senthil did not tell Uma about the incident but decided that at the time of Diwali bonus, he would add an extra three hundred bucks.

There is a Bitter India and there is a Better India. It is for you to choose, discover and feel.

SS