A Few Rupees More

He had been pestering me for a while. Tugging my branded shirt, pulling at my sleeves, he continued to follow every movement of mine. Twice I tried to brush him off, but he seemed unperturbed. He pursued me with great enthusiasm and mumbled under his breath, “A few more. Please give me a few more.”

I looked down at him with rage. My eyebrows wrinkled considerably witnessing the dirty creases that have been formed on my shirt by his soiled hands. On one occasion trying to loosen his grip from my sleeves I glared down ferociously at his face. Dark brown skin, permanently furrowed eyebrows, bright brown eyes. There was a constant flow of grey liquid from his unclean nose which was wiped off at regular intervals by his fragile and grimy fingers. For a moment I shuddered observing the dirty folds on my shirt and recollecting in a while that the same hands had been at work here.

“Lay off. Lay off boy. Haven’t I already given you a two rupee coin? Just leave me…leave my shirt. Right now.” I shouted. “Let go…let go of it.”

He didn’t. He held on to me and the more I tried to pull away from him, he attempted to seize me desperately. I heaved a deep breath. Not a single human being was visible in the distance, as far as I could extend my vision. The bus-stand was empty as it had been for the last half an hour and the bus was nowhere at sight. The scorching April sun bloomed perpendicularly above and a dry hot wind swept against my cheeks.

I breathed heavily. The boy mumbled in a recurring annoying tone. “Please give me a few more. Please. A few more.” My temper warned my patience and I suddenly turned around. With a sudden jerk I pushed him away and he fell on the ground. A few tints of blood poured out from his wounded elbows. I looked at him coldly and screamed.

“What is wrong with you? How many times…how many more times do I have to tell you that lay off? You just stay away. Are you deaf? Why don’t you just go from here? Just go. And let me tell you for once and for all. You won’t get another penny from me. Do you get me??”

For a few minutes we stood facing each other. Only the occasional movement of the green shrubs beating against the breeze howled once in a while.

“Somu…Somu…what happened to you?”

I turned around. A middle aged man came rushing towards the boy. He clutched a small piece of cloth over his shoulders and frantically rubbed his hands against the grubby shorts he wore.

“Look at you. See you have got scratches all over here.” He pointed at those thin elbows and affectionately brushed his fingers over the cuts. “This is why I tell you not to venture out when I am not around.”

Then he noticed me. I clenched my fists. “What if he hits me?” I wondered. Countless times as a youngster I had been warned how the lowly can react in such situations and I looked around. There was not another soul in the vicinity and if I was attacked, there would be no respite. “Help me god!” I muttered.

“He must have been bothering you eh…?”

I glimpsed at the man. He looked straight into my eyes, his hands clasped and folded near his chest.

“My fault saabjii…I left the door open. Somu …come here and say sorry to uncle.” The man motioned to Somu by gesturing him with his fingers.

The boy made a brisk movement and stopped a few steps away from me. I saw tears seeping out of his eyes and for a moment I felt numbed. With much effort he lifted his hands and brushed it across his nose. Next he moved forward and put his nimble fingers within those of his father.

“Papa, let’s go,” he uttered and turned his face away.

“Please forgive my son saabjii…” the man bent down on his knees. “Ever since his mother’s death, he has been inconsolable.” He paused for a while. “We didn’t have the resources to arrange for her medicines. Somu has since been…please forgive him saabjii…”

I nodded. A smile appeared on his face. “Thank you saabjii…thank you so much…” he turned back and said, “Let’s go Somu. You know I have got some bread for you today. We will have it with the vegetable I cooked last night. That’s enough for the day hmm son?” He lovingly stroked Somu’s uneven hair strands.

I wiped off the small droplets that had gathered on my forehead. The white handkerchief peeked out of my pocket but I couldn’t move my hands to reach out to them. I stared ahead as their figures disappeared, the deserted bus-stand being sole testimony to my crime.

Tags: Short Stories

Category: Short Stories