Manu.

warning:: long post ahead.....



I was in the 10 th standard at that time. It was in the evening, after schoolthat I was walking towards the bus stop. there was traffic at one spot and to avoid it I decided to walk some distance and catch a bus from the left junction. I took a left and walked humming on a new song..and I saw her.

She was a short, bright child who seemed to be 9or 10 years old though she claimed to be 13. she was sitting below a street lamp with a basket of vegetables in front of her and two books on her lap. That bright angel-like face , her deep dark eyes and her cute little smile………..i can remember till today. She was dressed almost in rags, but she sat with some dignity.

I approached her little ‘shop’. My shadow appeared on her books and she looked up at me. What a sweet little child she was!!!! She smiled and asked me which vegetables she wanted. I didn’t answer.

“ what are you reading?”

“English balbharti”
the cover showed std.5.

“which school do you go to?”

“I don’t go to school. One of the school children was kind enough to give it to me.”

“how do u know to read if u don’t go to school?”

“I went to school for 3 years but dropped out as I couldn’t afford the minimal; fees.”

“is that why you are selling vegetables? To gather enough money to go to school again?”

“no.i am doing this because my father cant sell vegetables today.”

I enquired why.

“because he s drunk again and hitting my mother at home.”

There was no remorse or sadness in her voice. All throughout the conversation her pitch was jovial and happy.

“what is your name?”

“manu.”

I took out my wallet. 45 bucks. 5 to go home. I took 40 bucks and handed it over to her.

She stared at the money and innocently enquired how many vegetables I needed.
“those are for your books. Buy more. Read more.”

Her smile faded. She stood up held her hand in front. she didn’t want the money.
“thank you, but I am not a beggar. I sell to earn money.”

Surprised. I didn’t expect such a reaction.
“I am not treating you as a beggar. Keep it for now.. return it later when you think u can.. for now get more books.”

She clutched at the notes. The reluctance was obvious.
“please give me ur address and tel. No.”
shit. She was adamant.

“you wouldn’t need that. I ll meet you soon.”
Saying that I walked away, not looking back, praying that she wont come up and hand me the money. I I gave her money to console myself . to make me feel that I tried to do at least something for that poor girl. I got into my bus and headed home.


3 years later, I walked down the same lane towards my school to take my passing certificate. The clerk wasn’t there. Disappointed, I was returning to my bus stop when I saw a girl about average height, long hair, looking up to me, smiling. She had grown but I could never forget her innocent, sparkling eyes. Manu.


“you have grown, manu.”

“so have you…come with me.”

A dark middle aged man with grey hair was sitting in his vendor stall. The place was respectable, not shabby.
Manu led me to him, her father, and told him something in a language I couldn’t understand.

The deep lines on his face vanished and he smiled. He got up to his feet and shook my hand. He cleared his throat and said
““
I was of your age when I left my house. My father was a farmer with three sons and I was the youngest. We were a rich content family till the time we brothers started fighting for our share of land. All of us were married. I decided to come to mumbai.

We built a shop and I sold vegetables and fruits. We were quite happy. Then it all happened. In 1993, after the bomb blasts, riots took place and my shop and house were burned down. Everything I had saved for my family went up in flames. After things turned to normal, I had no shop, no savings, no home and a family to look after. I was angry and took up drinking. I used to remove my frustration on my wife sometimes. But we were never starved. I came to know the reason much later .my little girl used to sell vegetables and bring money for my family. When you gave her the money that day, she didn’t buy books. She bought medicines for her mother. I was ashamed of myself.””

He took out a handkerchief and tapped it under his moist eyes.

““
I resolved never to drink again and go back to rebuild my shattered business. It took time but my daughter edged me on. She supported me. And now we are happy and back to how we were.””

He reached out to manu and kissed her on the forehead.

“I know why you told her all that about returning the money and I know ypu wont accept it now.”

He took out the most red apples from his collection, packed them and handed it to me.
“as a token of my thanks to you my child. For helping a poor family.”

I took the bag, shook the man s extended hand. My hand was clammy with sweat .i couldn’t muster enough courage to look at manu again .when I finally did, she was there looking at me smiling her own innocent smile. It reminded me of that evening when I saw her first. Was this the same 10 year old who saved her family? how could a child so young understand so much and carry out such a difficult task all by herself> a shattered family? A drunk father? The time when most children play games and dance around… this child did so much…….


She was 5 years younger to me but I felt she was a hundred times more mature, than me.

I said good bye to manu and walked towards my bus stop. My head was begging me to stop all the thoughts racing through my head. My mind kept me on.

I caught my bus and took the last seat. For the first time in 9 years, I felt my eyes moisten.