The story of milkman !
It was end of May
. Adhira was sleeping till
late like every day
since her board
exams . It was more
of a custom in Bhilai where
most of the
students slept till
late in the
morning after 10th board
exams . It was simply
to relax from
the hard work
they had put
in for the
entire year and
also as this
would be the
last time they
would get so
much time to relax
and prepare themselves
for the upcoming
war of competitive
exams . Summers in Bhilai
are scorching . “Only the
early mornings are pleasant and
best time to
sleep,” Adhira often said . The
rest of the
day she would
spend lying around
dreaming , at times sewing
and some other
times sketching with
the cooler rumbling
like a military
helicopter spitting water . She
would sleep off
the mornings till
late as she
was too old
to go swimming
in a skimpy
swim suit and
too young to
take driving lessons
and poor enough
for a hobby . She
loved her sleep
as much as honey
bees love their hives .
Adhira’s father
woke her up
with The Statesman
newspaper in one
hand and a
cup of coffee
in the other . A
medium built dark and
tall man in
his late forties
with blood shot
eyes but handsome over
all . He was an ideal
hero for any
daughter . He had all
the qualities a
hero had in
movies loving , caring ,
protective , …… ‘A man who would fight
an entire army
to save his
child’. A man who
looked into the
best interest of
his family , not his
family , his well wishers , his
not so well
wishers and the world
around . People idealized him . Once
it so happened
that a milkman
while returning from
his diary late
night met with
an accident at the street
corner . People gathered all
around him . Most of
the people came
out to see
what happened while
some other used
it as an
opportunity to discuss
their office . While some
stood at their
gate some walked
to the accident
site while some others
stood at their
window too scared
to step out
lest they might
be blamed for
the accident . Soon there
were groups here
and there .Only one
group standing next
to the fallen
man seemed little
concerned .
“He is
bleeding . What should we do
?” said someone .
“Kya hua
bhaiya ? Kaise gir gaye ?” [Brother , what happened ? How did
you fall ?] inquired one
standing close to him
. And before he
could answer ……..
“Someone should
take him to the hospital !” said other .
“Accident kaise
hua ? Kisi gaadi nee maara
kya ? Gaadi ka number
liya ?” [How did you
meet with an
accident ? Did someone hit
and run ? Did you
take down the
registration number ?] asked other bending
towards the milkman
a little loud
this time .
“He has
met with an
accident . He is not
deaf .” said one of
the men standing
in the group .
“You are
not helping ! And I
don’t think he
understands Hindi .” replied the
guy quite irritated .
“How does
screaming help ?” argued the
other .
“Let someone
go and inform
his family and
let them decide
what they want
to do with
him ?” said someone
else looking around
for someone available
to offer .
“Parivar hai ? Kidhar rehte hai ?” [Do you
have a family ? Where
do you live ?] asked
someone trying to
move him . He moaned
with pain but
still didn’t reply .
“He is
milkman from the
dairy . Who will take
him to the
hospital ?” said some other .
“I will
take him to
the hospital !” said father
cutting through all
the noise and
discussion and arguments .
He pulled his
Mahindra jeep from
the garage put
the milkman in
the jeep and
took him to
the main hospital
in sector – 9 .
While some
called him generous
others despised him
for his hero
like attitude to
be a savior
at all cost . People
often called him
‘man with golden
heart’ . People respected him . Everyone respected
him . He needed respect
as much one needs air
to breath , needs food
to eat , needs
water to drink , ……. Respect was
elixir of his
life .
1 comment:
An interesting piece of narration told in a simple way about life in small town
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