Punnu's Page

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Crossing the streets is becoming ridiculously difficult. Old people should not venture outside alone, thought Vishnu. After waiting a full five minutes, he and his father were able to cross the highway.  He held his father hand for he needed the support. As bapu trailed behind, Vishnu felt a tug in his arm. He checked his irritation just in time so he could speak softly. ‘Let’s wait a while.’

Bapu almost fell against the wall out of exhaustion. Trying to catch his breath, he was motioning to Vishnu with his hands. Vishnu understood that he was still suggesting that Vishnu tie a scarf around his head. It was biting cold. Beifng in his forties himself, Vishnu disliked the micro parenting. Bapu had tied a duster around his cap and head so as to cover his ears. He wore a lungi and a tired white shirt. Vishnu wore a red shirt that stretched uncomfortably around his bulge. He stood patiently by trying not to worry.

Bapu had now closed his eyes while leaning against the wall and seemed to be in rapid thought. He had grown weaker since he landed here in the city two weeks ago. Realizing this was going to take longer than expected, Vishnu too leaned against the wall. People walked by, mostly in a hurry. With nothing else to do, Vishnu counted the number of people passing by. It turned out to be 100 people per minute, maybe more. They were below a massive flyover. Vehicles whizzed by on either side. The hollow under the bridge amplified the sounds of traffic. Only on coming very close could Vishnu understand that his father was speaking something, whispering almost.

‘This is madness,’ he was repeating. ‘But one has to learn his own lesson. Don’t take my word for it. You can sell everything you own, you can earn everything you can. But you can still be unhappy.’

Vishnu felt like reminding his old man that they were not idling on their farm. This was the city. Time wasted is money lost. But even after his hard boiled experience in the city, it seemed a harsh thing to say. So Vishnu just nodded. Not that Bapu could see him, his eyes were closed.

It was not clear why Bapu had come to visit him. He had just dropped in unannounced one day. Vishu was astonished at how he had made it here by himself. And how he had managed to find his house. It had to be some bad news. With his mother having passed away some years ago, it was now the turn of one of his uncles. But no such news had been revealed. It could not be about money. Vishnu had made it clear that he could only a send 200 rupees a month. Living in the city was expensive. How much money can you need in a village anyway?

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Vishnu had gone almost bald over the last 5 years. He still applied heavily scented hair oil though. On his last visit back, people had complemented him on his health. The city had been treating him well they had said. Having grown on the plump side, Vishnu did not feel very healthy himself. Not as much as he used to anyway. Refusing the compliments seemed a stupid thing to do. So he played along. The fact that he was now a city dweller had become part of his identity.

Having had to take leave twice from his work, Vishnu was worried of losing his job. Bapu’s ill health had been hard on the wallet too. The neighborhood quack proclaimed that the illness was permanent and would remain with the old man till he dies. The small yellow and pink tablets he gave wrapped in paper were to be taken every day for the rest of his life. After that Vishnu had not taken his father back to the dispensary. A week later, he ran into the doctor at the queue outside the public restrooms everyone in the neighborhood used. Vishnu shared his concern over the illness and the expenses they would have to incur. To this, the doctor said he could give them cheaper medicine or just some sugar pills. Just so that the old man feels he is being treated would be enough. Vishnu felt uncomfortable in his stomach at the thought but he was yet to take a call on it.

‘It is good to see you are doing well Vishnu. Your brother was getting worried. He reads all sorts of news of what goes on here in your city. I told him Vishnu is a smart boy. He minds his own business. He is just there to make an honest living.’ Fluency had now come back to Bapu’s voice. He had opened his eyes too and was looking at Vishnu with a crackly smile.

He felt sorry for Bapu and agitated at himself. He had not been able to save enough money to rent a better house. Owning one was too farfetched to even dream of. He had come to loathe money and the limitations it created. But he also knew that one cannot make do without it. While he was trying, he might as well try harder.

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‘When you were young, we used to earn 12 annas a month. We would buy food grains for the whole year and stock them. The year, in which we would save enough, we would paint the house. Once we had done it two years in a row.’ Baapu’s voice beamed a bit now. He had clearly gone back to happier times in his mind.

Vishnu’s irritation had now turned into guilt. He had been holding on to a fifty rupee note since the past two days. Although his father’s condition warranted getting a bus, if not a cab, Vishnu had held back. He argued with himself that a little bit of walking and fresh air would be good for the old man. He held his hand again to feel his temperature. Bapu’s hand was cold and limp.

‘When you were still in school, many of my friends from the village had come to the city. Some of them have become big Sahibs now. You know off course. Surya helped you get a job here. I never left. I sometimes regret it you know. It is good that you have. You have done it I mean. It is important to see the world with your own eyes. Take your own decision…,’ he trailed off.

Vishnu turned to look at Baapu. Some bums has a lit a fire from gathered trash nearby. In the fire’s glow, he could see Bapu was smiling and swaying his head slowly. Every few seconds, a grimace ran through his face ending in a twitch of his eye. He clearly needed treatment. But for now, he seemed to be in a happy place in his mind.

‘We should go now, it’s getting late.’

‘You should think of coming back,’ Bapu continued ignoring Vishnu’s prodding. ‘Your wife will also be happy. Your son goes to school now I think.’

Vishnu cursed himself almost audibly and yanked his father’s hand towards the road. He hailed a cab and took him home.

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With the fifty rupee note gone, Vishnu felt a weight lift off him. He laid Bapu down on a cot in the room and came outside to meet the neighborhood travel agent.

‘What is the status?’

‘There is no ticket available for weeks.’

‘What about first class?

‘That is five times the cost of a normal ticket. Don’t waste my time.’

‘Just check it you thief! You will get your money.’

Vishnu came back home to take the crumpled notes he had hid in a pot in the corner. Bapu was now awake and looking Fat Vishnu.

‘We have got a ticket home Bapu, you can leave day after tomorrow.’

Vishnu had taken his own decision; so he would have only himself to blame. What a relief that would be. All he had to do was break a fifty rupee note

-          Punit Pania

punit.pania@gmail.com