An
autorickshaw driver, Raju was his name, lived a contented life with his wife,
Suchita and the lone son, Rajith. Rajith, a studious, well-mannered, modest boy
had earned a lot of well-wishing minds in his collection. Near their home a
vast ground was there, bordered by lovely multicoloured shrubberies. The
village boys’ flock spent there their evening time playing cricket. Rajit
exhibited extraordinary talent in bowling, though the other players had also
lent their minds full in the sport. Rajith stood tall in bowling, and he was
the most skilful amongst them.
Gradually, his graph in the school game soared high and hence, he was able to get into the school team, in which he stood as a diamond stud. He bagged accolades for the school, stretching long the glee of his kith, kin, and acquaintances. But alas! It didn’t last lengthy. On a Temple Fair Day, he drove his father’s autorickshaw for travellers to and fro between the temple and the residences because of the latter’s fever. Being a remote village, much checking for Licence and all was not so there. He was plying the road a wee fast in the autorickshaw, which happened to fall into a trench at one side.
The timely action of an advocate was helpful to the family to keep away from being charged a case against the licenceless boy. The outcome was
awful, yes, it was awful indeed since he had to get rid of his awesome sport. The
heavy hospital expenditure was an impediment though, it was met by the
villagers collectively. Despite the doctor’s earnest effort, his left leg lost
the power of running and jumping. His limp on the left leg put out his fire of
playing. He found no bound to his grief; he started loving a sort of
seclusion from others. He made his much-loved play items get separated from his
view. The items were supplied by the sports club of that hamlet. Poor Raju and
Suchita knew no way to fill a new spirit in their disappointed son.
To
their surprise, the middle-aged, recently arrived, reticent neighbour-resident,
who was not the type of making friends with neighbours or others, turned up at
their house. He approached Raju, introduced himself as his neighbour and upon
the parent’s consent, he went to the boy. Eyeing the boy’s pathetic looks, the
man, Sunder applied all his tactics to amuse him. Since cricket was the boy’s
first and the best fascination, nothing worked out, But Sunder didn’t discard
the track. He strived through and invented ways and means to make Rajith love
Chess. But Rajith was a boy that other than cricket hadn’t considered anything
else as a sport or game. So, he set his face away from Sunder, whereas Sunder
continued his jounrney of pulling Rajith to the game.
“Rajith,
you just try Chess. You are clever. You can be a good player.”
“No,
uncle, I don’t want to do anything,” in a sobbing tone, and he showed no sign
of agreement.
After
a couple of days, Sunder appeared with a Chess Board in his hand. Though his
father, Raju was a bit reluctant to receive a stranger’s help, he wanted to
save his son by hook or by crook. As Rajith saw the Chessboard, his voice
crossed usual decibels, attaining high amplitude. He spurned even to look at
it, “Who asked you to bring it here. Take it away, please. I don’t want to
throw it away.”
Suddenly
Raju and Suchita looked at the guest in an apologizing way and said to Rajith,”
Darling, don’t use harsh words like this.”
“Don’t
worry, he is small, fourteen or fifteen.”
Then
the man used a simple machine, his hand stroking the boy at his back
to make him calm down. The boy, however, began to feel cool. So, he slowly
unloaded his hatred. He just sighted the board and the pegs-set and watched each
item. The next moment the craving for playing crept to his mind and just set
the pegs on the board. The boy resumed his school routine and gradually, he
conquered the world of Chess. He had no hurdle in winning a name in that too.
Hard practice and participation in contests judged his calibre. In the long
run, he could board heights in that game which did clear his way to the title
‘Grandmaster’.
Rajith with his father, Raju met Sunder one day in his house to express their gratitude for his acclaimed gains, gifted indeed by Sundar. He received the guests with friendliness. Their thoughts travelled from lips to lips.
And Sunder now
with a reluctant and repenting tone to Rajith, “You are my son, my beloved son,
my flesh and blood, dear. “
Observing
the shuddered expression on the duo’s countenances, Sundar, “I shall, no, I should tell you everything. I was running with you, the three-year-old darling
to escape from the police, one evening because my flight to Dubai was at 10
o'clock, the night.
“Police,
why?” Raju with a bit scorn in sound.
“Nga! Police!”
Sunder
recounted his story. Theirs was a love marriage. The kin from both sides
objected. Sunder didn’t have a job, M.A. Sociology and who wants a man, having
sociology as the major of his disciplines? One of his friends in Dubai helped
him in the matter and the visa and ticket reached him with immediate joining
the company.
When
he came to share the happiness with his wife, Ragini, she was shrieking with
fear and running from Kitchen to the backyard, ablaze. Even now, he doesn’t
know what the reason for the incident was. Something went wrong with the Gas Cylinder, but the
‘How’ remained undone, as she was no more.
The shocking scene and the post-demise formalities broke his heart and he fell into a numb stage. Then his crying son woke up his mind to get to his toes for action. Some of the neighbours helped him. But his wife’s people filed a complaint against him. He knew that litigation would spoil his son’s and his life for long. He decided to escape leaving the child in Raju’s house. He was aware of the fact t that Raju was aching to have a child.
So he thought thus, “Now my son wants to be loved and that he will get from this couple.” And that is the reason why he dropped his precious thing near the bush in Raju’s house.
He concealed himself amongst the plants at a distance to see someone pick his darling.
About Twelve years ago:
Hearing
the babbling laughter of a three-year-old toddler, Raju came out of his
dwelling. A smart cheerful little one was hilariously picking flowers from the
bush-jasmine in his compound. Raju’s compound always wore beautiful blooms in
her hair, which gave a glaring glance at the passersby, on the road and they in
return admired her beauty.
“Will
you pick some flowers for me, uncle?”
“Who
are you, dear? What is your name?”
“Rajit,
please pick for me.”
By the time Raju’s life partner, Suchitha reached them.
“Nobody
around. How can such a small one be alone? Let’s look for his guardians. Otherwise,
we will inform the police,” Raju.
Suchita,
at the spur of a moment, carried the child and hugged him against her bosom
with a mother’s heart. Sunder heaved a sigh of relief and vanished from there.
Raju hesitantly informed the police, that put the child in the ‘Child Welfare Centre’. Every day the couple visited the place. The officials met with a negative response for their trial to find the child's guardians.
Raju and his wife after a fruitful discussion, “God has brought
him here. Let’s adopt this sweet one.”
Ultimately,
after a series of procedures, which included the denial of the child from the
authorities, the couple was able to shoulder the responsibility of rearing him
up.
And
now, Sunder purposefully chose to stay near Raju, winding up his gulf life to
understand all about his son. He was so engrossed in his job due to his
guilt-feeling about the separation of his darling. And so, the thought of
finding a new partner didn’t even pop up in his mind. It was more than a decade
that he hadn’t touched the indigenous soil.
When
silence gnawed the peace of mind of the trio, “I will live with my *Achchan and
Amma. During holidays, I shall visit you, Dad!” Rajith spoke out at a stretch.
“Yes,
Sunder, he is our beloved son, yours and ours,” Raju.
*Achchan and Amma- Father and Mother.
Very thrilling story. You should sell this to a movie director.
ReplyDeleteThank you,SG.
Deletereally nice story
ReplyDeletethank you,Pooja.
ReplyDeleteGreat story, thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you,Bill.
ReplyDelete