Reflections....

He cursed his life for the umpteenth time that night. It was the third time that week. Drenched in rain, supervising concreting at 2 A.M in the night was soon becoming his wretched life. He knew it would go on till 6 A.M atleast. He let out an audible gasp which only the Rain Gods gave an audience to. The atmosphere seemed to have replaced oxygen with concrete and dust. A little careless and he would become a part of the foundation which was being cast. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept reverting back to his life two months back which now seemed like a bygone era.

Like a kid going gaga over his candy, he remembered his loving parents, his home, his friends, his love. He heaved a sigh.It was tough indeed to leave them all and live in this rundown shithole, he thought. Well raised in a metro, used to spending on whims, never missing any fun, he had of course reasons to lament upon (but did he really he was soon to find out). Of course his family and friends were just a call away, but then staying in another planet kind of state was new to him, totally ripping him from inside. On top of all this misery, he was battling a losing love life, amidst this physically demanding schedule, trying to save a relation, but only to be met with constant ignorance and insolence. Before he went more deep into that profound chasm of memories he was jolted back to the present by a fellow labour. It was time for the 3 A.M tea.

They sat in a dilapidated shed which barely classified as a tea stall. Rain water was dripping in, gusty winds chilling them to their very bones. Having nothing better to do he decided to ask the fellow labors about their whereabouts and stuff. All of them merely said their names and hometowns and kept on sipping their teas as if uttering an extra word would cost them their right arm. But the chaiwala more talkative than others made a short, yet crisp speech which he was to remember for the rest of his life.

"I am Dhirender Sahu from Orissa Sir. My father was a chaiwala and needless to say I became one too. I wanted to be Doctor but then, not everyone gets to study, do they Sir?(a smile then on his toothless face). Three children - two sons, one daughter. Sons have fairly good jobs and are settled with families but a chaiwala at their homes can be detrimental to their social status which explains why I am here. My daughter wants to be a doctor and that's what I am earning for, enduring all this toil here. And yes feed our mouths 3 times a day is the top priority of the list anytime"

The guy had spoken nothing extraordinary, nothing Abraham Lincolnish, but the words washed over him over and over. Here he was earning a five - digit salary, e-ordering whatever he wanted, and these people earned no more than 200/day. Here he was frustrated about not getting to have his weekend hangouts and their main agenda was to keep away from starvation on a daily basis. Despite the lack of wealth they apparently had only one problem - 'how to eat three times a day?' and he despite having all the luxuries had a 1000 problems to deal with. He suddenly felt blessed for having nice family and friends (yes his lost love couldn't make an appearance there). This didn't make him a completely different person altogether but he hoped it would over time.

When the first sunray hit his face he found himself smiling a little. He was tired indeed, but he felt pleasant, if not cheerful altogether.

ജീവിതം എന്ന കലാലയം,
നമ്മള്‍ പഠിക്കുന്നതു എന്ത്
പഠിക്കേണ്ടത് എന്ത്