With God on our side
A yellow taxi pulled to my right as I was walking back from the park.
“Get in lad. We gotta go somewhere”
My uncle was in there, in his signature leather brown jacket, collars turned up, and a slight smile on his face. I got into the cab as I had no other choice.
This is a particularly early day. Say I was in 11th standard at that time.
“We have to go and pick up a few vegetables from the market. You comin’ with me.”, he asked me in a commanding voice.
“Ya ya, I will old man. You won’t be able to handle it on your own”, I replied in a mocking voice.
And then came the dialogue that every old man, every aged adult has said at least once in his life since the dawn of time.
“In my time…. in my time, I was double your size and with more muscles and charisma. You kids of the new generation will never know that time.”
“Yes, maybe you were. But it’s not your time anymore oldy.”, I said gazing out of the window into the empty street. I thought that he still has his charisma, although the muscles have shrunk.
My uncle and I had the closest bond, possible with someone outside your immediate family. When I was a kid, I used to spend all day at their home, play around with them and their daughters and give a kiss to each one of them before leaving in the evening.
My heart was beating faster than usual. There was something about this day. When I left home for the park, the first step I took I knew something’s gonna happen. Then the car pulled over, and my heart rate picked up too. I didn’t know what, but this is not usual.
I was standing right outside the market when the old man went inside to pick up a few vegetables and haggle around with the shopkeepers. Even busy dusty streets become interesting when you have nothing to do but stare at the faces of random people. People buying fruits, people selling fruits, people buying vegetables, people selling vegetables, people returning from the park, a young couple with their hands clasped together, a bunch of boys with bats on their shoulder and a ball in the other hand, a group of girls giggling around at an ice cream stall, a rickshaw puller wiping his sweaty forehead after a ride, fruit vendors spilling water over their fruits so they don’t try up, beauty everywhere!
Suddenly something touched my right hand. I was startled! I thought it might be a dog ready to bite me when I looked down it was a small boy looking up right at me and nowhere else with his shining eyes.
“Iko uttr lkdo”
“Huh..?”
“Isko uttr rkdho”
It took me some time but I realized he was asking me to put a bundle of sugar cane on his head so he could carry it back to his father’s/boss’ juice shop. The little boy couldn’t put the bundle back on his head once it was down. I picked up the bundle, a little heavy for a kid of his size, and put it on his head. He dangled, and then stood straight. I expected a smile or at least a thank you. He just put both his hands on the bundle and just moved towards the street.
A dog barked on the right side, a cow mooed at the same time on the left, a huge truck running down the street from the left howling its horn at the volume of thunder and speeding up with every passing second. The only thing I knew and remember was that my breath came right up to my neck, maybe this is the last day. Not for me. I was still standing on the side, it was the sugarcane kid trying to cross the road with both his hands on his head supporting the bundle and his little legs struggling to keep up the pace. In an instant, I moved two steps forward in the hope of getting the kid back to the side, and so did the rest of the crowd just to find out that it was too late. Too late for a reaction as the truck had already screeched across the street, swaying right past through the kid and its tyre screaming as the driver pulled the brakes with all its force. The kid was saved. The driver hit his truck right into the society wall on his left running down the wall and the electric fence but the kid was saved. He stood there, dropped his bundle, folded himself into a ball sitting on the floor, his face buried in his hand, and started crying. The last thing I remember about myself was my eyes were wide open and sweat was running down my head as if I had just done a cardio session.
The people around gathered, consoled the kid, made him feel comfortable, gave him ice cream, a glass of sugar cane juice, and sat him down on the side of the street for a few minutes until his breath and mind stabilized. That wall is still broken. It's been around 4–5 years, they haven’t repaired it yet. I wonder what that kid must think every time he looks at that wall. Gratitude or fear?
After a wait of around 10 minutes, my uncle emerged from the depths of the market.
“What happened boy? You sweating like you had a cardio session. Told ya, your generation can’t even stand at a place for long enough without sweating like hell.”
I looked at him, he looked at me. Ahh, let the old man have his victory.
“Yes yes, you are right you are right. I am nowhere near you boss, you are the master.”, I said humbly.
“Ah, it's alright kid. Come on now, let’s go home. Maybe we will buy some sugarcane on the way, I see a lot of them on the side of the street.”
Rajat Upadhyay
She might think that I’ve forgotten her,
Don’t tell her it isn’t so…