Water boy
SN depot is the stand from where I usually get the 615 to go to R.K.Puram sector III to get the Bahari Mudrika to get to Saket to catch another bus to get closer to my research lab for training. At the depot stand I usually sit on the bars along the stand. Since I started going through this route, a water boy had also started to post his new water-wagon for the heat season. I just used to sit besides his wagon, which he used to wipe all the time he got to spare from work of quenching the thirst of the thirsty. We just used to give stares to each others; my stares were to counter his. I had no business with the boy.
His stares were the stares of disgust as if telling the story of a poor boy that was not enjoying what he was doing and wanted to come out of all this mess but, there was no way out. Stares just continued for a month every time telling the same old story. We still had nothing for each other to say.
One morning as usual when I was at the stand, waiting for the 615, the water boy had again reached the spot on time with his wagon. After struggling to post his wagon at the spot, he again went to cleaning-shleaning. My bus was taking too long to come so I had plenty of time to watch the traffic go by. The boy finished his routines and sat next to me, in btw he was visited by his father who himself used to be a water boy himself few a years ago, now he had given up to search something better. Now his son had taken over from him.
The father checked everything and left after he was satisfied. The boy just sat next to me on the bars and again gave the stares. But this time the stares were not the usual, strange. This time he looked as if expecting something from me. But what?
After some time I was back to watching the traffic go by. But suddenly a boyish voice broke my concentration “Kal to sale he nahin hua.”. I just looked at the direction from where the voice had come, it was the water boy looking at me in anticipation I being startled and not knowing what to say, I could only say “Haan”. But he continued,”rains are about to arrive, the weather seems to be getting cooler; no one seems to be thirsty these days. I said “two days to go for the rains”. “Yes my sale only starts at around noon”. And he continued “Yesterday very few people came. Buses come every five minutes, so people don’t stand at the stands that long to feel thirsty enough to boost my sale. Yesterday the owners youngest came to collect the sale earnings from me, but since he comes very less, I couldn’t recognize him and refused to give the money to him. In the end I got a scolding from my father”. I just sat listening to what he had to speak, all were going over my head and I could do nothing but to just listen. In btw I continued with my yes’s and no’s. He continued “yesterday one of my friends was beaten by a couple of police men, because he refused to give them water for free. He had a broken hand. Few wagon guys passing by took him to a nearby dispensary.” I couldn’t say anything, he sounded as if he had known me since so many years that, he had to tell me all those. I soon had to leave the spot as my bus had arrived. I never could stop myself from wondering, what had happened?
Unfortunately that was my last day to my training so I never had to board the bus from that bus stop. And so it still remains a mystery of how for a day I had become so dear to a water boy.
The end.
His stares were the stares of disgust as if telling the story of a poor boy that was not enjoying what he was doing and wanted to come out of all this mess but, there was no way out. Stares just continued for a month every time telling the same old story. We still had nothing for each other to say.
One morning as usual when I was at the stand, waiting for the 615, the water boy had again reached the spot on time with his wagon. After struggling to post his wagon at the spot, he again went to cleaning-shleaning. My bus was taking too long to come so I had plenty of time to watch the traffic go by. The boy finished his routines and sat next to me, in btw he was visited by his father who himself used to be a water boy himself few a years ago, now he had given up to search something better. Now his son had taken over from him.
The father checked everything and left after he was satisfied. The boy just sat next to me on the bars and again gave the stares. But this time the stares were not the usual, strange. This time he looked as if expecting something from me. But what?
After some time I was back to watching the traffic go by. But suddenly a boyish voice broke my concentration “Kal to sale he nahin hua.”. I just looked at the direction from where the voice had come, it was the water boy looking at me in anticipation I being startled and not knowing what to say, I could only say “Haan”. But he continued,”rains are about to arrive, the weather seems to be getting cooler; no one seems to be thirsty these days. I said “two days to go for the rains”. “Yes my sale only starts at around noon”. And he continued “Yesterday very few people came. Buses come every five minutes, so people don’t stand at the stands that long to feel thirsty enough to boost my sale. Yesterday the owners youngest came to collect the sale earnings from me, but since he comes very less, I couldn’t recognize him and refused to give the money to him. In the end I got a scolding from my father”. I just sat listening to what he had to speak, all were going over my head and I could do nothing but to just listen. In btw I continued with my yes’s and no’s. He continued “yesterday one of my friends was beaten by a couple of police men, because he refused to give them water for free. He had a broken hand. Few wagon guys passing by took him to a nearby dispensary.” I couldn’t say anything, he sounded as if he had known me since so many years that, he had to tell me all those. I soon had to leave the spot as my bus had arrived. I never could stop myself from wondering, what had happened?
Unfortunately that was my last day to my training so I never had to board the bus from that bus stop. And so it still remains a mystery of how for a day I had become so dear to a water boy.
The end.
you know what...most of the people in such a state need nothing more than a ear..and i am glad you gave that.
ReplyDeletesuch issues make everyone feel so similar don't they?