HONEY AND SAUCE

I was on my way from Dhaula Kuan to RKPuram sec-3. It’s a 8 km journey and never takes more than 15 minutes on an Auto-Rickshaw. It was my return from my Aunt’s Place. I had just given my cousin brother(who’s on the threshold of his class 10 board exams) some advices on his approach to studies. I was really happy with the way I had delivered my role in his preparation. Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day, teach him how to fish and you feed him forever. I had just done that .

The vehicle halts at the Moti Bagh Traffic Signal. Another 43 seconds before we can resume the monotonous journey that so many people might be pursuing everyday. A white Santro joined the wait to our left. Just ahead of it was another Auto-Rickshaw . I couldn’t make out who was inside, not that I wanted sub-consciously to do so either. Somehow, I was attracted towards that hemisphere of my field of view. I did not see anything unusual of Delhi streets there. Or did I?

Convincing the person (people) inside was a young boy ,barely five years old, to buy the day’s issue of Mid-Day. Of all that’s peculiar and outrageous besides his age, was his mood. He was skillful in making use of his poverty .He had the capability to ensure that the emotional chords of the person are struck . He made his statement with more body expressions than words. He deliberately acted mature and respectful which is unusual(for even grown up street people).He showed the bold headlines of the Mid-day and emphasized on the accompanying picture, obviously he could not have read any of them(wonder if he ever will). He had somehow cracked the code for attaining higher success in his salesmanship ventures. He was living his childhood with experiences I have not yet bothered to uncover. The Lady in that Auto-Rickshaw gave him a 2 rupee coin.

It is in my nature to relate remote possibilities. I stare at the same hemisphere of view while walking in my thoughts. I feel lucky for what I am. For I could have been just anyone else , maybe you, maybe that street kid. But I am wherever I am because of all that ever happened before this moment of thought. The existence of a divine purpose is controversial and hence not included in this depiction of thoughts. I am not blessed for the same reason as in the last statement. Any Mr.X would be lucky if he had gotten something nobody else had. But I do not usually to judge happiness through monopoly or the fact that I have left the world behind.

Now, should I grade that kid as Lucky ? An obvious thought is no. But I love and respect remote possibilities. Not being harsh on perceptions and opinions, I would say that kid has been Lucky .He may one day rise above our highest dreams and dig below our deepest thoughts. My thoughts get reinforced when I see the marketing skills of that kid. The thousands of street children that are not aware of the chances that they can have an impact on the world seek help, not pity and sympathy. But, we have it imbibed within our brains(most of us do) that they need food and shelter until they someday their hearts pause permanently in some dark alley. It’s not everyday that we as prisoners of the prevailing social order try to wonder about our life if not what it is now.

My hemisphere of sight crashes to check what is tapping my knee. I have that kid with a few copies of the Mid-Day to my left. I have a ‘The Hindu’ waiting at my hostel room(I despise masala print media), but nevertheless I buy a copy. I give a 2 rupee coin too. He sees a 5 rupee coin in that slit of my wallet. He asks if he can have that. I look at him in the eye. He possessed no reasons to falter, no answer to any questions of shame. All I found in his eyes was a question back at me, If you think it is wrong what will you do to help me? I have to teach him how to fish. I gave him that rupee 5 coin too and gave back his Mid-Day. 43 seconds ended pretty slow. The Auto changed gears. I sped past that kid still there at that traffic signal. I had to reach somewhere.

HONEY AND SAUCE