The silver bangles

It's been probably 3 or 4 weeks old when I told a story to Neha. Probably it was not a complete story, which I had freshly picked from the lift of my society when coming up to my flat at 24th floor. it was a incident or a general conversation of a group of persons, that I listened in the lift. I keep on making Neha bored with my fresh observations, some stories, office work related talks and some mechanical stuff of cars and buildings. This story was also like any general conversation I had with Neha.

It was Sunday, around 12 in the noon. I was coming from a saloon after hair cut when I entered the lift after four maids in a age group 25-50 years old. It hardly takes one minute to reach my floor, which is top most of the building, from the ground and all maids had to get off somewhere in between as the button panel showed. So, basically it's a few seconds conversation of maids among themselves which I found compelling to share with Neha as I reached my flat.

conversation went like this:

Maid1: Tabiyat kaisi hai? (How are you? How's your health?)

Maid2: Tabiyat sahi kaise rehbe. time se roti hi nai milti. ye waqt ho gya hai (12 in the noon) par abhi tak roti hi naseeb nahi hui. (how can it be good! we cant get food on time. It's 12 in the noon, still I am empty stomach.)

Maid1: sahi keh ri ho. waqt se namki roti mil jaye to insaan kabhi beemar na pade. (you are right. If one could get minimal food on time, one would never fall ill.)

All agreed because all had the same problem. I also agreed upto some extent because same fact applies to my maid and I know she also comes to my home empty stomach. That's another thing that Neha offers her tea or something to eat sometimes.

"Yaar, they are struggling to get couple of roti timely. After so many years of independence, poverty is widespread." I said to Neha.

Today evening, when I enter the lift at ground floor, the maid2 and a boy, who looked 12-13 years old, also entered after me.

"Namastey aunty. kaise ho? (Good evening. how are you Aunty?)" The boy said cheerfully in heavy voice which was quite contrary to his physique. His voice was the proof that he had just entered the adolescence. 

"Badiya. (I am good)" maid said.

He smiled, slightly looked towards me and said, "bas sab badiya rehna chahiye. Aur kya chahiye jindagi mein. (yes, all should be well. After all, what else one wants in life?)" 

Such heavy words from a young boy!

"Mitti lag gayi hogi. (I think it's mud.)" The boy said when he found the maid scratching her torn out, old thick bangles. 

"Na. pani ka kaam krne me kharab ho gayi.(No, it's torn out due to house hold work which involves water.)" she said and got off the lift at certain floor.

The boy looked at me and said, "kisi maaldar ki bethi hogi. chaandi ke kade pehan rakhe. (she must be some rich dad's daughter. she is wearing bangles made of silver.)"

I smiled, still his words buzzing in my mind. "tum doodh deliver karte ho. (you give home delivery of milk)" I said as he was carrying two packets of amul tond milk. I looked at his clothes which had multiple holes in it but his facial expressions full of happiness.

He nodded in approval.

"Tumhe kaise pata ki ye chaandi ki hai? (how do you know bangles are made of silver?)" I enquired.

"wo dikh rahi hai esi. (they seemed to be so.)"

Her bangles looked quite old, torn out. I smiled again and said, "wo chaandi ki nahi hai. wo artificial hai. (they are not made of silver. they are artificial.)" 

"Hnm" he said convincingly. "chaandi ka pani hoga. (they must be having a layer of silver polish)"

I said, "Yes" and he got off the lift at another certain floor.

The boy unknowingly had completed the story. The concept of riches and poverty is just a parameter of relative comparison and perception while happiness is an absolute thing. 

And then I repeated the incomplete story and shared the complete one to Neha.

A morning walk

Roads are travelled to reach the destiny. They are the companions who keep on walking along with the traveller, doesn't matter how short or long is the journey. But who remembers the roads at last? Its destiny only that matters. But sometimes, or many times, it gives a glimpse of life, nature and people that become moments worth keep to remember and seem like the events constituing preamble of the destiny. So, it's my journey, a short one, I am going to pen down about - An early morning walk from my home to a dairy.

Here, morning is so serene and pleasing that I always love to take morning walk to fulfill my duty of getting milk from the dairy. It's Dehradun that draws the divine air from the range of Himalayas and I love it when air strokes fondle my skin, slip down around my body and sometimes it blows my hair just like the shaking leaves on roadside trees. But today was different. My eyes went off the road and caught a glimpse to which we all are subscribe to visually but never think this way what an old man did. 

Two kids, one girl and one boy, most probably siblings, were standing by road side. Their dirty clothes, uncouth look, unprivileged and deprived luck keep them ignorant from our eyes. They are the one who don't have destiny, they just live by roadside. Unlucky kids! Poor slumdogs, smiling for a mysterious reason.

I stopped for a moment when I saw that old man in his 70s, who was walking with his stick, climbed down the road, walked towards the kids and did something awesome. I am an observer but never observed so intensely what an 70 years old man's spectacled eyes caught. He imagined the possibility of civilization in their attire when they effortlessly draw one's attention towards their empty stomachs and gloomy fortunes. He buttoned the boy's shirt and tied the girl's frock laces before giving them a gentle smile. A smile on my face was inevitable while thoughts emerged out in my head. 'Don't they have right of being well dressed?' The thoughts thickened as I walked pass the kids and reached the dairy. Then, in a hurry of getting milk, I removed all the thoughts saying to myself - 'Apna apna bhagya' and asked the shopkeeper- 'Bhaiya, give me one liter milk. Full cream.' Then suddenly I realized that I was purchasing something precious that doesn't feel costly to me but the nude reality of their luck I was aware of. They don't have even a drop of milk in their morning breakfast. Do they really have break fast? Let alone the milk.

I walked back to my home and thanked God for making me privileged. I thought of my childhood, mom getting me ready for school,  preparing my breakfast, stirring bournvita in my milk and preparing my tiffin.

I smiled, laden down with sympathy for the kids, at the thought that I would still be having bournvita milk in my breakfast platter when I am now full grown up. I looked up and again thanked the one hidden behind the blue sky.

Note- It's not my story/ observation. It was told to me as a summery and some background. I might have exaggerated or put my ideas or imagination, I don't know. But I found it interesting to put it here and share it with you. Thank you.