The Turmoil Within
I saw her when I was coming out of
my college gate; a frail woman in her late forties standing beside the road. A
bag, as infirm as her, was sitting beside her feet. She was looking at the
street. Both the ends of it till where the road turned into nothingness… what
caught my eye was the look on her face… the look of helplessness… I recognized
it because I have known the feeling of being helpless… and the agonizing pain
that it comes with it. I, like most people would do, tried to sneak my way without attracting her attention… I
don’t know why but this behavior seems to have been
engraved or etched in our minds. When you see someone helpless… whether a
person lying on the road after an accident, a beggar asking for alms, or even a
blind person crossing the street…. The first basic instinct that comes to our
mind is to bolt… somebody else will obviously help….
I
was out to have my favorite cup of tea and a 69mm of delight, the Goldflake cigarette.
It had become quite of a routine for me those days; to take a hike of 2kms on
foot to go to my favorite tea stall and have a cup of tea and Goldflake(
believe me, it’s the best in Bhubaneswar and worth the trouble). Before you
say, yes I know it’s a bad habit…. but I had fallen into a routine.. so that
day seemed to be just like any other day. It was 5 20pm and my blood was
screaming for nicotine. So I set from my hostel with 10 rupees in my pocket on
the way to Kalia Bhai Tea stall. It seemed like any other day till the moment
she called me.
Her face was a crisscross of wrinkles. She
must have been around 40 years of age but long hours of working had taken a
toll on her. She looked like someone their fifties. She was shorter than me.
Her hands were a riddle of veins. She had a look of a defeated person. From
what I could deduce from the tools she had with her was that she was a daily
wage laborer. She had finished her days work and was on the brink of exhaustion.
“Pua, town buss ketebele asiba?” (“Son, when will the town bus arrive?”) I
turned back… I had already crossed her. I pretended not to listen. Then she
asked again “Son, when will the town bus arrive?”. I finally could not ignore
any more. I told her that it’s going to arrive any moment. Then she looked at
the road with helplessness and said to me “Ghadiae hela thia helini, asini ta?”(“I
have been standing for an hour”). Then I asked her where she had to go? She
said she had to go to Khadagiri Square. It was around 3 kms from our college
gate. “ Mo pila ekela achanti, rati helani.. mu kana karibi je”(My children are
all alone in the home, what will I do now?”)… My instinct (and my blood, you
remember the “screaming for nicotine” part) was telling me to walk away from
this situation. You can’t help.. you have never helped any one in trouble. Let’s
go and have that sip of finest dairy and puff of honey dew delight. But then
again there was the look on her face… the look of pure helplessness and desperation
that made me rooted to the spot. And that’s when I stopped paying heed to my
instincts.
“Why
don’t you go by an auto Mausi?” I asked her… she said that her labor contractor
had given her 5 rupees to catch the town bus to Khandagiri square… and she
didn’t have money for the auto…. I thought to myself, “Should I offer her my 10
rupees?” but I didn’t have any more money. It was the last 10 rupees I had. “No”
came the prompt answer from within me (I think it was the blood speaking within
me). The bus will come. She will go and you will have your nice cup of tea and
69 mm of nicotine all to yourself… just wait it out…
So I waited
with the lady…
At
last the bus came… the lady was relieved, hell I was relieved. The lady picked up her bag and thanked me for
waiting with her. But when the bus arrived the conductor promptly denied her to
get abode. When I asked he said that she only had 5 rupees with her and the
fare was 7 rupees.. She was looking at me helplessly.. I tried to reason with
the conductors but he didn’t agree… the bus left with him and grumbling about
these bloody laborers and five rupees… Once again I was there; standing next to
her... she looked defeated. There wasn’t another bus for the next 1 hour…She
had become overwhelmed with emotion. Her eyes had become flimsy; but she didn’t
cry… maybe she had faced such humiliations too many times… she looked at me.. I
couldn’t look her I the eye.. there was way too much sadness in there for me to
bear…” she seemed to be unaware of her surroundings..” mo pila mane kemiti akela
thibe”(“How would my children be managing without me?” .. She was talking to
herself. She wiped her eyes dry and again started looking at the road again.
Maybe hoping to see another bus… a miracle? …. I couldn’t bear it any more..
I
did what I should have done way earlier… I scanned the road.. I spotted an
autorikshaw.. I flagged it down… “ pua kana karucha.. mo pakhre paisa nahi…” I
gave her a reassuring look and talked with the rikshaw wala. I gave the rikshaw
wala my 10 rupees and asked him to drop her at Khandagiri Square. The lady
seemed concerned..” mu kemiti tama paisa pharaebi je?”(“How will I return you
your money?”). I assured her that there was no need for it. She was at first
reluctant but finally climbed on to the auto.. I talked with the rikshawala and
then said to her that I had given the money and he will drop her at Khandagiri
square. She was overwhelmed.. she passed her hands over my head and blessed
me.. “ Dhanyabad pua.. tumuku koti parmau milu… tame bada haeki khub paisa
kamaaa u bhala manisha hua..”. I was embarrassed. Little did she know the
turmoil that had been raging within me… the chaos of thoughts; the
confrontation of tea, Goldflakes, morality, compassion and empathy inside of
me, all within the 20 minutes I had stood with her? She thanked me again and
again… the auto drove away….
I
know it wasn’t a great sacrifice… nor do I brag about it. It’s just that
sometimes there occur small and possibly insignificant events in one’s life
that makes them contemplate and evaluate themselves.. What have they have
become? Who they are? And what do they want to become? I won’t say that this
event has reformed me… or that I have become a different person… but yes, the
10 rupees that I had that day was well spent.. Yes.. Well spent indeed.
As I turn
back to go to my hostel, Ritesh passes by me on the bike… he leave behind him a
haze of smoke from the cigarette he was smoking…. The smoke seems to languidly hang
about on the road, not dispersing, as if waiting for me … a smile crosses my
face as I pass through the smoke… Yes it was Goldflake….
3 comments:
Quite good than Previous ones.Keep up!!! dude.
Best of luck!!!
@aditya thanks man. Appreciate it
Best one... I agree...
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