Ankush's mom

I was cooking in the kitchen, when I could hear a "huuunnnnh..muummmy... muummmy..huuuunnnnh "

I was curious. So I put off the gas and opened the main door. Ankush, the five year old child next door, was crying and banging at his house's door. I found it strange and thought maybe his mother did not know he was waiting outside. I was about to go to help him, when Ankush's door opened suddenly. His mother came out and said, "Will you be naughty again?"

“Mamma please let me in ... please...” he sobbed.

“Tell me will you be naughty? I will not let you in unless you answer that question.” she asked again.

“I am sorry mama. I will not be naughty…” he answered between his sobs.

By then, doors of two more houses had opened. People from those houses were sneaking to see what was happening and when they did see, tried hard to ignore the mother and son interaction.

I was pretty agitated internally.

I remembered something that had happened to me when I was around five years of age. I had just started going to school. I had lost a very important notebook of mine. When dad came home I couldn’t hand over the book to him when he asked for it. Dad had got really angry and scolded me for being careless. I remember the helplessness that I had felt in the situation. Also I did not even know what “being careless” meant. All I cared about was that I had made my daddy so upset by my “carelessness”. And I knew that I did not want that to happen again. I felt that helplessness again at that moment.

“I love you mama,” I heard Ankush say to his mother. I looked up to see Ankush and his mom hugging each other. His mom was saying, “I love you too. I am sorry for scolding you beta. But why are you so naughty?” Ankush hid his face in his mother’s arms and fell asleep.

All of us closed our doors behind us. I picked up the morning newspaper and tried to put the incident behind me.

With a cup of tea in my hand and a sigh in my heart, I wondered, was Ankush’s mom’s reprimand successful in making Ankush realize what he had done wrong?

I wondered if Ankush even understood what he was getting punished for. 

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One fine day...

It was early morning. Nishka and me were sitting, playing with each other and giggling loudly when the door bell rang. We paused as my husband opened the door and craned to see who was there.


When I saw who was at the door, I was surprised!


It was the maid Kamala.


Kamala had been at our house the previous day and had been cleaning up the house. She had cleaned all the cupboards under the kitchen platform. When she had stood up on a stool to clean the upper cupboards, the stool had turned over and she fell down hurting herself badly. In fact she was so hurt on her back that she could hardly sit or stand for some time. She had to be lying down for about two hours before she could get up and go home.


So naturally I had not expected her to be there the next day. But she had come. When I asked her, how she made it in-spite of the pain, she said, "No issues akka. I came in an auto. I did not want to trouble you with all the work."


Again I was dumbfounded. Braving the jerks of the auto rickshaw and spending 40-50 Rs from her meager salary to come to work, just did not make sense. (Her house is quite a distance from our apartment and she commutes to work in a bus everyday.) Also, though she said she had come to make our tasks easier, from my past experience I knew she was not so overly committed to her work.


Even though she did not say so, I knew what had pulled her to work. I turned back to look at my little one. My daughter's face was all excited. She was waving her hands excitedly and babbling loudly asking Kamala to take her in her arms.


I thought of the 50 rs. Kamala had spent. I thought of her back pain, which might have got aggravated in the bumpy auto rickshaw drive. And I turned around to see total and unconditional love and joy of the little one in Kamala’s arms.


I thought to myself, “Can you really measure the worth of a child's giggle and love?”

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The photograph in this post has been taken from http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/dotshock/dotshock0907/dotshock090702578/5285236-happy-young-woman-mother-play-and-outdoor-with-beautiful-child.jpg Due credit goes to the photographer

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A walk under the moon

Thinking about that day still brings a smile on my face. The day had not been particularly good. It was eight thirty in the night and since I had nothing else to do, I sat with a book.

My nine month old darling was playing on her own and mumbling to herself. At one point I saw her sneaking a glance at me. I put down my book and decided to have a mother and daughter time with the little one.

So I put a cap on her head ( which of course she kept pulling out ), and put socks on her feet ( she thrust forth her little feet to me so that I could put the socks on them easily ), took a small pink handkerchief and much to the delight of the little one, we went out for a walk.

It was a full moon night and the moon was shining brightly. I showed Nishka the moon and she smiled at it. The sky was clear and the stars were all twinkling. Nishka looked up at the sky and gurgled at the stars. And then she looked back at me amazed.

We went a full round in the garden of our apartment complex and then settled down on a lawn chair. The little girl has learnt to stand with support so I made her stand leaning on the back support of the chair. Nishka and me now sat watching the garden path and the people walking on it.

We decided to have some fun. Nishka has just started saying "hi". So if you say Hi to her, her reply will range from "Haaaayyyy" to "Haaa Yeeee" to a simple Hi. Her voice is melodious and is a delight to hear. We thought it would be a good idea to greet the people walking on the lane.

So whenever I saw any person coming near our chair, I would whisper to Nishka, "Nishka, hi! Nishka, Hi" and she would get the cue, look at the person and say "Hhhhaaaaayyyy". It must have been a pretty sight for any onlooker - a 9 month old girl, leaning against a chair, and waving a Haaayyyy to one and all.

There were different reactions to her hi - some of them were nice and some of them were funny. A young couple in their late thirties seemed so preoccupied in their walk that they hardly noticed a beauty of life waving at them. It took them three rounds around the garden and louder Haaaayyys from the baby to pause, look, wave back and smile.

A guy in his early thirties, jogged with a ear phone on his ear. He kept jogging on. Much to our amusement, he did not notice the baby at all. Or if he noticed, he chose to ignore her.

The best reactions were from an old couple. They were walking slowly, enjoying the breeze, smiling and talking to each other. They had noticed the baby from far and as they came near us, they waved at her and the baby responded with a HAAAAYY. They came closer, cooeed to her for a while and then waved a good bye.

At one point we saw a smart teenage girl. She was wearing a red t-shirt and white skirt, sport shoes, had her hair tied up into a long pony and had hung a tennis racket on her back. She was turning towards her home when she heard a hi. She turned back and on seeing a baby wave a hi, giggled and played with the baby for a while before going back home.

We had spent half an hour in the garden 'hi'ing everybody. Nishka and me had fun and made our journey back home talking to each other and hoping that we had managed to bring a smile on a few people's faces.

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Mother

This week's post is very special to me since it has been written by my mother in law. She lost her 87 year old mother a few days back and she wrote this post as a tribute to her. My mother in law has studied in the marathi medium school and has studied till the 10th standard. Whatever knowledge she has today( including this writing in english) is what she has learnt out of her own interest and quest for learning.

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Have you seen the picture "Mother India"? Every mother treats her children like that mother. These days children have no patience and don’t understand their Janamdata( the person who has given birth to them). They especially don’t understand their mother's feelings.

My beloved mother is no more. She expired on the 18th of December 2011. She loved us a lot.

My mother ! Oh ! My mother ! She was love and happiness itself. She was a teacher but she loved her children like their mother.

I was in the second standard and my class teacher was my Aai( I used to call my mother as Aai, which stands for mother in Marathi ). Those days annual examination was held by AEO( Assistant Education Officer ). That year, I got the first rank. My mother told the headmistress that "Good that my daughter got first rank in an examination conducted by the AEO. If I had conducted the exam and my daughter would have got first rank, people would have teased me." This incident taught me that I should not make a difference between my own people and others.

She had gone through many difficulties in life but she never grumbled. She never complained.

Those days most women had a lot of gold jewellery. My mother too had more than 5000 grams of gold ornaments. She lost all the jewellery to handle family problems. But she never uttered a word about it. She lived her life like any other person. What a wonderful personality my mom was! I have always been very impressed by this character of my mother. From this I learned that we should not be attached to material things.

I was in my fifth standard. I wanted to participate in the Nishani drill in which I was supposed to be holding a small national flag. I needed to wear a white dress while doing the drill. My Aai did not have enough money to buy me a white frock but my little mind could not understand her problems. I would cling on to her pallu and be after her about wanting the dress. She would always provide me for my needs, even though she would later struggle to manage the household expenditure.

She studied in the teachers training college in 1950s. There in one of the functions she sung a song in Marathi

Mana mi Kiti tuz shikavoo re

Ram smarawa ghadi ghadiss Ram smarava re

Mana mi kiti tuz shivavoo re

Saandooni Sukh he smaran hariche

Fukat kal ka davadi re

Mana mi…

Durlabha nar tan jaayeel jevha

Kay karil dhan raashi re..

Mana mi…

Patit pavan prabhoo hari smarata

Jashil moksha padhala re..

Mana mi…

( Oh! Mind! How many times should I guide you?

Remember Ram moment to moment.. .

Oh! Mind! How many times should I guide you?

You lose the happiness of remember God

By wasting your time in useless activities

Oh! Mind!…

The human body that you value so much, will be soon gone,

What will you do of your wealth then,

Oh! Mind!...

All your sins will be washed away if you remember God

You will attain moksha(salvation),

Oh! Mind!...)

She lived like this song. With this writing, I am doing a "Aakhri Salam" to my mother.

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I know...

Last week, my mom, aunt, husband and I went to a jeweler's shop to get some jewelry for me. After a lot of debate we entered a high profile newly opened gold shop. After looking around a little, I found a beautiful pair of jhumkas that I really liked. We asked for a break up of the cost of the earrings. I loved the earrings and was willing to pay the price the shop keeper quoted for it. However, my mom after hearing to the breakup, seemed to say things like, “I guess we need ask dad about buying the earrings.”

Uh! I was a little surprised by that! And I was a little upset too. I mean what would dad know about gold and the cost of gold? If she did not like the earrings why wasn’t mom saying so? I tried reasoning with her that it was no use asking dad. But she wasn’t being very enthusiastic about buying the earrings. Why was my mom being so difficult? I thought.

I realized that I was becoming restless and impatient and felt bad about it.

That day we went back without making any purchase.

Once calmed down a little, I called my mom and asked her what the real issue was; to which she replied that she thought the cost of the jewelry was exorbitant. Again my mind started thinking - mom must have not liked the jewelry. That’s why, she was talking about price.

Since, she hadn't liked the earrings anyways, I thought I would go with my husband the next day and see if I there was something else that I would like. We went to three more prominent jewelers in the locality and we checked out the jewelry and the prices there.

To my surprise, I discovered that my mom was right! The jewelry cost at all the other major shops were at least a good 10% lower than the one in the first one. How could that be possible! I thought. I also discovered how the first jeweler was managing to camouflage the extra cost that he was charging. My mom, with her knowledge of gold rates, was able to figure out that something was not right!

I couldn’t feel sorry enough for making my mom wrong the previous day. With all my arrogance of “I know things better”, I did not even give her chance to voice herself.

Don’t we do that all the time, with our various near and dear ones? A lot of times, instead of hearing out someone patiently, we make judgments about people, and assume what the person is going to say or do. And the result of this is that the person does not have any space to say something creatively.

Once I realized my mistake, I called up my mom and apologized for my behavior the previous day and that evening we bought a pair of earrings that was not only beautiful but also priced properly.

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Oh! To be a baby again !

“Are you looking at Ajji? What are you seeing?” says an old lady slightly bent due to her age. She is wearing a faded cotton saree the pallu of which hangs loosely around her body and her shoulder. She has noticed the baby watching her pass by our car parked near a chat stall. The wrinkles on her face belie the struggles that she must have endured. The worn out cotton saree shows that she is from a lower middle class family. The smile on her face shows her kindness and her trust in life. She beams at me and looks back at the baby.

“Is Ajji looking nice ? Such a cutie pie you are ... Look at you staring at me... God bless you my dear... !” she says as she blesses the little one, smiles at me and moves on.

I feel movement on my legs as I am lost in my thoughts with my baby sitting on my lap. It is around nine pm in the night and we are waiting for my husband to get a packet of milk from a near by provision store. The baby is smiling and talking in her baby language. I follow her gaze to see a 70 year old cobbler smiling at her and cooing back at her from his small ragged shoe stall made of planks of wood. He is tall and well built. He is wearing a faded albeit clean white kurta and a faded white turban adorns his head. His demeanor evokes respect. Seeing me notice him, he gives me an apologetic smile. The conversation between the baby and him has been interrupted by my gaze but the blissful smile on his face is still intact. Seeing me smile back at him, he cooes to the baby a little louder.

Then he comes near our car and struggles to communicate with us. He says in Tamil, a language that I don't speak and very sparingly understand, “I have four children and twelve grandchildren. What to do akka? I have to come down here from my village in Hosur, which is around 60 kms from here, to earn my livelihood. Looking at your daughter I am reminded of my grandchildren...” He pauses to smile at me. I can see contentment all written over his face.

I am at Crosswords, the book store, looking for certain books. I have the baby in my hands and I can see that she has become restless suddenly. I can hear the baby saying, “AAaaeee…aaaaa… aaa…eee… aaAAAeee…aaa” I am curious and I turn back. I see two boys and two girls (staff at Crosswords) talking to my baby. The little one is excited at the attention she is getting and talking back to them. I smile at them, and let the baby entertain them. A little while later, they say “bye baby” and go back to their work areas. The smile on their face is still intact.

I pay for my book at Crosswords and go back to my car. I remember the happy faces of the old woman, the cobbler and the staff at crosswords. I turn to look at my little one who is now on her bubble making spree oblivious to the happiness she has spread around.

I smile with contentment as I make my journey back home.

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Mom and me and you...

As you purse your lips, your face content in our love, your expressions showing indifference to my cuddles, you spot the shining gold in my mangalsutra and play around with it - I can feel you feeling secure in my arms. I remember, as I was growing up, the gaze of little me reached up to the connical "thalli" and the black beads of my mom's mangalsutra and I remember how much this single simple black and gold ornament symbolized security to me.

As you tug at my kameez, lifting and pulling the corner, watching curiously at the flowers and designs on it, trying to pick them out of my kameez - I can feel you exploring life. I remember how after having a hearty meal or a delicious feast, I would washed my hands, and I would love to wipe them clean with my mom's pallu - I remember how much joy this little action gave me.

As you cry when I move around, calling and imploring me to pick you up, as you get mysteriously quitened when I do pick you up, as you stretch both your hands on my shoulder, envelop me in your hug and fall asleep in the comfort of my shoulder - I can feel the contentment and bliss you feel in my arms. I remember the days when my dad would go outstation, my brother and me would fight to sleep next to my mom and I remember how much the love, comfort and warmth of my mother would envelop me as I snuggled and slept besides her.

As you go "aaaaaaaaaa" in satisfaction and fulfillment of a full stomach, as you are ready to take on new activities with renewed energy - I see the twinkle in your eyes, your mischievous smile and your happiness. I remember the time, when I would be ill, hardly able to open my eyes due to a high temperature - let alone eat on my own, my mom would feed me with her own hands and the same morsel of food would seem so much more tastier.

As you poop and oblivious to the poop, you play and pull everything around you, while all of us, including me, come to clean you and set you free - I see that you know, that in case of trouble, all you need to do is to cry. I remember as we were growing up how my mom, wiped our tears or made a joke of some silly fights that we would have had with our friends - I would know that I was being serious about nothing - after all life was all a play.

As I watch you grow day by day, you will know, as I know, that no matter what you go through as you grow up, no matter who will stand by you as you fail, when you open your eyes and mind over your troubles, you will see your parents right there in front of your eyes.

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The baby...

I will go slowly and sweep and mop the room. I will be careful not to disturb the sleeping baby...- said Kamala, our maid.

Hmm... I said - ok!

After five mins, I went into the bedroom for some work, I saw Kamala transfixed near the baby's bed, broom in one hand, a beatific smile on her face and saying helplessly - The baby is awake ! I turn to look at the three month old baby - with her legs folded over her tummy and hands tugging at the blanket, and cooing to herself - she seemed to be in her own world thoroughly in bliss. I smile.

Waaaa.. Waaaa.. Waaa.. she cried on my legs - as I was cooing to her massaging her body. Hearing her wails, Sahida, the cook runs in from the kitchen. 'Kya ho rahi hai sooo. Baby kyon ro rahi hai sooo. Thel dal rahin. Baby! Baby.. ! Idhar dekho .. !'( What is happening ? Why is the baby crying ? Are you having a oil massage ? Baby! Baby ! See here ..! ) She calls her in Urdu with a heart filled motherly smile. She tries pacifying her - but the little one is angry at being massaged without her agreement. And just when Sahida and me are succeeding in pacifying the baby - Sahida gets up in an exclaimation ! Oh ho ! Meri roti jal rahi hai !!! Beti ka awaaz sunkar mein aayee.. ! Offfooo!( oh ho ! The roti I have kept to cook is getting burnt !!! Because I heard the little one crying, I came running to see whats happening. Offfooo ! )Shaking her head helplessly, she turns to run back to the kitchen with a chuckle.

The baby is three and a half month old now. As a mother, I have hardly had the opportunity to go out and shop for her. Well, when there is a baby in the house, there are so many people visiting. Every visitor who comes gets a gift for her - and most of them end up buying a dress. So most of the dresses the little one has, is a gift from the umpteen number of uncles and aunties, grandpas and grannys, bhaiyas and didis she has. "The dresses are beautiful and more than sufficient, but, When will I ever get an opportunity to buy her a dress!" I complain to my ever patient husband. So last sunday, we pack her bag and set out shopping! Shopping in a shop that sold dreams!

Once we enter the shop, I cant just wait to get to the kids section. In the section that sold the girls dresses - it was almost as if I was in a fairy land. Blissful whites, pretty pinks, playful reds and navy blues, teasing lacy mauves and greens - the dresses were in all colours. Oh ! What was I supposed to buy and what was I supposed to leave ? All of them looked so - so beautiful. My princess would look beautiful in any one of them..! I debated and argued with myself in my mind and I picked up two dresses - a white dress with little blue flowers and a thick blue velvet ribbon tied into a bow in the middle, and another white dress with huge splashes of velvet and purple flowers, again with a huge purple ribbon in the middle.

My heart filled with joy !

Just three months back, all of us seemed to be preoccupied. Kamala and Sahida were busy in their daily routines. I was in my own world - complaining and being bitter about anything and everything. And today as the baby seems to complete around 3 and half months, mine and everybody's life around me had changed for ever. My cup of joy seemed to overflow.

As I get back to the car with my hubby and the darling, I think to myself - If there is anything called bliss - I guess I am experiencing it now. Dear God - Thank you for everything.. !

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Vayun and the baby

Thats not a baby. Thats a football! - my 4 year old nephew, Vayun, tells me looking at my 9 months pregnant tummy. I smile. I tell him - Inside the tummy is a baby, beta. He isnt so sure. :) At a later point I ask him to touch my tummy to feel the baby - he does it very hesitantly - he says - I am scared.. ! with a smile.

Last weekend, I was to go for my scan appointment and I decided to take my nephew along with me. Atleast he could see the baby that he has been told so much about.

And on the weekend, we finally reach the hospital waiting room. Once we enter the maternity ward of the hospital, we are greeted by a huge picture of a pretty to-be mom with a tummy that looked like a football. Vayun stops in front of picture, comes back to me- looks at my tummy and bursts out in a giggle. Perhaps he thinks there are more women with a funny football tummy ! :)

And then after some wait, we go into the scan room. He sees the baby on the scan machine, but he is not able to figure out much.

Can you see the baby? - Doctor asks him kindly .

No! He says, as he is trying to make sense of the grey areas on the scan machine.
That was understandable - coz the baby was not very clear in the scan.

Looking at his eager face, Doctor asks him kindly – are you waiting for the baby to come out..?

He says - YES!..

Doctor smiles back and says - Baby also wants to come out to meet you .. !

He giggles in excitement at that ! :)

The doctor feels sorry that Vayun is not able to see the baby clearly- so does the next best thing. She puts the doppler machine on my tummy.

The baby's heart beat goes - DUBH dubh ! DUBH dubh ! DUBH dubh ! DUBH dubh ! - LOUD AND CLEAR.

He smiles and giggles in delight and anticipation !

Once the scan is over, ( secretly I was more disappointed than him that I couldnt show him what I had been promising the whole of last week ), I ask him - Did you see the baby ?

He looks at me with an innocent beautiful face and says - How could I , the baby is in your tummy na.. !

Well, I couldnt argue more.. !

After a while, he looks at me curiously, widens his big round eyes in a question and asks with the innocence of a four year old- The doctor couldnt take the baby out ?

Uh ! I am stumped.

I recover and reply back- No beta.The doctor couldnt ! ( What else do I say.. )

By now we have reached the patients waiting area. He asks me again - loud and clear for everyone in the waiting room to hear - When is the doctor taking the baby out ?

I sneak a glance around - all the patients have stopped doing whatever they are doing and have started looking at my nephew and are giving him a loving, adoring glance - also they are simultaneously sneaking a glance at me, waiting to see what answer I would give him. I smile at him and say affectionately - She will take it out beta.. Maybe in another 10 days ...

He smiles back at me and says - Another ten days ? OK ! ..

The answer seemed to satisfy him. He seemed as if he could definitely wait for 10 days more.

And then he runs behind me again as we scoot out of the hospital.

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Truck loads of sand has come in ! :)

Parenting I guess is the best part of anyone's life. Bringing up a child, answering its umpteen questions and satisfying its undying curiosity I am sure is a beautiful phase and blessing in any adult's life. I have a four year old nephew, who thankfully stays very near to my house - giving me the liberty to go and visit him as and when I want to. The day I do meet him, my mind is full of all the funny expressions, antics and questions that the boy would have put in front of us. Bliss ! :)

Coming back to my own childhood, if there is any part of my life that I have completely and thoroughly enjoyed - any part that I would like to relieve - and do so without a second thought - it would have to be my childhood. I guess I have enjoyed every second of being a child - the love, the fights, the reprimands, the friendships, the playing, the studying, the mischief - everything! EVERYTHING!

As a child the only aim I had in life was to make friends and play. Ok! Studies were important too..! But play was much more critical :P And then to go with it - I had a dozens of like minded cousin brothers and sisters and uncles and aunties who would go the extra mile to ensure that we were always having fun.

I guess the role of fun minded adults, parents and family is critical in the growth of a child. The willingness and encouragement to let a child experiment with anything and everything and being there to support the child when the child has had a bad experience is instrumental. I was allowed to climb trees, fall, play in sand and mud- my hair was always unruffled and dresses always a mess! When I was around 5-6 years old we lived in an apartment in Mumbai. And very close by there was a new building that was under construction!

Do you know what that means to a child? :) Shiny, glazy, colorful and beautifully patterned, broken pieces of bathroom tiles to collect and play with - red shiny bricks to construct play houses - and loads and loads of sand and mud to dig and make caves! One night as I stood in the dark, on the balcony of my third floor house, I saw two trucks with loads of sand and bricks coming in. Hmm! interesting! I thought with a smile.

Early Morning the next day, to my pleasant surprise I had a friend, around 3 years older, who had come to spend time with me the whole day. After the initial pleasantries, I called her to play! I still remember - as soon as she said yes to play - I could not contain myself any longer- I told her with a big smile on my face and with my eager eyes full of childish excitement- Great! There is a truck load of sand that has come the previous night - we could go and get ourselves submerged in the sand ! I was all excited when I said that and once I had finished I realized there was absolute silence on the other side. The girl had not responded. When I turned back to look at her - I still remember the look of stupefied shock on her face. The girl’s mouth was now open in astonishment and with big round eyes on her face – she almost seemed to say "Have you gone out of your mind ! ", "How disgusting!".

Uh !

My smile vanished and there was only cautious bewilderment written all over my face now. A little embarrassed I shut up and played with “safe toys” like dolls with her for the rest of the day.

Secretly I was thinking -What a waste ! :)

The next day, I went and played on sand to my heart's content ! :)

When my nephew was born, one thing I kept threatening my sister in law is that I was waiting for my nephew to grow up so that he could experience the bliss of being friends with sand and mud. ( I am not mentioning my sister in law’s reaction to that :) ). And now that I am waiting for my own little one – I definitely know what playthings would my kid would itch to set its hands on ! :)

Waiting for you - little one ! :)

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One of those days..

A few years back I used to work in a MNC. Most of the days I would take my car to office which was a good 20 KMs away from my house. On this day, as on days when I would have some problem with my car, I took an auto.

Its generally a little difficult to get an auto because of the long distance or since the auto driver would get some more greedy and ask a 20-50 Rs extra to the already huge sum that it would anyway take. So I had been waiting for around 10 minutes - stopping and haggling with the auto rickshaws- but with no luck.

After a while, I saw an auto coming from a distance and I stopped it - yet another time. As the auto came nearer, I was disappointed though- since I could see a little 5-6 year old girl, in her school uniform, hair all neatly combed into to two long pony tails, holding a small bag and a water bottle on her hand, tiny black shoes all buckled up, sitting all alone on the back seat of the auto. Even though I was late, and disappointed that the rickshaw was occupied, the sight of this cute little girl all ready for school, couldn’t stop the small smile on my face.

Coming out of the daze of the beautiful sight, I looked at the driver and said - Sorry, I thought the auto was available..!

To my surprise, the driver, looks at me kindly and says eagerly - if you don’t mind a small diversion of about a KM that I need to take, to drop this girl to the school, the auto is available.

That was a pleasant surprise and a relief and I hop into the rickshaw. The driver seemed to be in his early thirties and looked smart, well dressed in his rickshaw driver uniform and was a pleasant sight himself. I enjoyed the 1 KM ride with the little girl, watching her innocent curious eyes and very innocent face.

After a while, the driver stopped his auto in front of a highly reputed school in the locality. The driver got down from his seat and helped the little girl out of the auto. He helped the girl with her bag.

The next sight surprised me though. He took a comb out from his pocket - combed the slightly ruffled hair of this girl and gave her some change. The girl gave him a gentle peck on his cheeks and rushed inside the school.

To my surprise, I realized that it was her father who stood and watched her, biding her good bye.

This auto driver with a very meager income from his auto driving was sending his daughter to one of the best schools in the locality!

I was moved and did not know what to think or say. The rest of my journey was spent quietly, with me mulling over what I had witnessed a few minutes back.

Once I reached my destination, I opened my purse and got out the auto fare and without any hesitation added a twenty rupee extra to it and gave it to the auto driver.

The driver seemed surprised and looked at me with a questioning, curious look.

I smiled at him understandingly and told him with an embarrassed smile – That’s ok... Take it! Buy something for your daughter...!

And I walked away before the driver could see my eyes welling up with tears.

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