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Welcome to the world of a secret romantic. Interesting individuals gifted me the backbone of the stories which wrote themselves. I have, of course, tweaked them the way my imagination would allow. Though years were lost, I plan to catch up with time now. The urge to bring the beauty of the time gone by is too strong! Enjoy!! Ajay P.S.:A comment with your views at the end of the blog will be appreciated.

Saturday, 16 June 2018

Salvation!

They say everyone has to do a good deed before they die!

The day had dawned cold and hazy. It was early winter and this was the most difficult period for Rahul. The weather depressed him and he felt like spending the day in the warmth of his bed. His joints were stiff and he felt tired even after a good night's sleep.

He yearned for a hot cup of tea, but he knew the tea made by him would be terrible. He had never done these things in his entire life; he did not need to!

Why was the cook cum helper cum nurse cum all-purpose Man Friday late today? These fellows were never there when you wanted them! It was not fair! He would have to replace Jadu -the man was not sincere anymore! But he knew this was mere wishful thinking. He would never be able to do it. He and Jadu were just too much used to each other. Thirty-five years is a long time!

Jadu had come to him as a mere boy all those years ago. In fact, he had picked Jadu from the street in one of his drunken moments. He was returning from the club in his usual rickshaw when he found a boy lying on the road. Actually, Mohan spotted him. Mohan was his regular rickshaw person and had been ferrying him to and from the club every evening for a few years now. Mohan was as close to a friend as he would ever have. 

Seeing the boy, Mohan stopped and went to investigate. Rahul was too drunk to understand clearly whether they were moving or had stopped. It was the same every day. But when Mohan came and informed him about the unconscious boy, he understood that Mohan was asking permission to take the boy along. He was too drunk to care, so he nodded.

Mohan easily lifted the boy and placed him beside Rahul. It was a tight fit since Rahul was sitting, rather sprawling, on the seat covering more than his fair share. It was just as well since it ensured that the boy would not fall off.

When they reached home, Mohan picked up the boy and carried him in. Rahul, as usual, got down by himself and staggered to the door. On Rahul's insistence, it was an unwritten pact that Mohan would not help him to the door and in the last few years only once was this pact broken. He staggered to his bed and flopped down. He was too drunk to undress and was soon snoring.

When he woke up next morning, he found the boy still sleeping on a mat covered with a blanket. He vaguely recalled the events of the previous night. He started boiling milk (which was something he could manage) and noticed the boy, who had now woken up. The boy had no expression – neither surprise, nor fear and just stared at him. He offered a glass of milk to the boy who took it eagerly and drank it in loud gulps.

My God! Was he skinny! Anyway, once the cook came, he would send the boy on his way after a good breakfast. The boy looked undernourished and maybe hunger was the reason for his having fainted the previous night. Anyway, it did not matter!

But Jadu, as the boy was named (he later found out), never went away. Jadu became a part of his household without any formal understanding. He became about the only family that Rahul could claim. Jadu was an orphan and had survived mainly by his wits.

Soon he had the run of the house and became Rahul's Man-Friday. He would look after the house, handle money, and everything else as if it was his own. In fact, over the years, he became the only person who could stand up to Rahul and at times even admonish him.

There were only three fixtures in his life - Jadu. Mohan and the old beggar, who used to sleep on his porch. The old beggar had been sleeping there before Rahul bought the house. He never really saw the beggar's face or knew him for he would be sleeping, covered in rags of all shapes, sizes, colors, and smells when Rahul returned from the club at night and would be gone before he woke up in the morning.

But Rahul did not mind. He had become so used to the old man that it would seem odd if he did not find him at the usual spot.

It was impossible to determine his age and Rahul did not care. He could have been forty or a hundred; there was no way of finding out. In fact, he had only seen his shape and never his face.

One winter day, he found the beggar all curled up and feeling sorry, he covered him with a thick warm blanket. Next morning, he found the beggar gone as usual but the blanket was neatly folded and kept in one corner of the porch. Then one day, on an impulse, Rahul had tucked a ten rupee note under the blanket near the beggar's head on returning from the club.

This act became a habit, and was repeated every day, without fail. A ten rupees note everyday did not matter to him, for Rahul was rich. He did not have any contribution in becoming rich nor had he any interest in working towards it. His father had set up a jewelers business in Bombay and it had grown over a period. The old time employees still worked there and after his father's death, an old family retainer and his son looked after the business.

Rahul received a substantial monthly income, which he was only too happy to use to live the life that he wanted. His manager and other employees did not bother him with the details of the business and he did not mind. Over the years, his wealth had grown and he could boast of having one of the larger bank accounts in town.

However, Rahul was not one to do so. He was not interested in building up an empire or accumulating assets. He just wanted the good life and fortunately he had been gifted the means to do so.

Due to this characteristic he never acquired the stinginess, vanity or arrogance which often accompanies great wealth. While he did not go out of his way to indulge in charity, he never shied away when the opportunity presented itself.

Jadu and the old beggar were living examples of this trait. In fact, Mohan too was a beneficiary since he was paid on a monthly basis and this payment was several times more than going rate. However, Mohan was canny enough to never mention this fact.

Rahul loved the life that he had.

Chatting with friends, buying whatever took his fancy, not being forced to live by the clock, going to the club in the evenings (where he was very popular owing to the several rounds he stood for friends and even complete strangers), having a guaranteed transport whenever he required in the form of Mohan's rickshaw, his home being taken care of by Jadu and to top it all having a substantial income to take care of all this without lifting a finger – all this made for as good a life as one can dream about.

He had never felt the need to marry or having a lasting affair. Having a carefree life without many responsibilities meant much to him. It came naturally and made him happy.

The clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen told him that Jadu had arrived. A few years ago, egged on by his wife, Jadu had requested Rahul to allow him to leave home. He would continue to take care of things but his wife felt restrained in Rahul's home. True to form, Rahul agreed.

Even Mohan had started coming infrequently of late since Rahul did not go to the club often. Age and his various illnesses did not allow him to enjoy the drinks and many of his old friends had gone. The newer members found him a bore and sometimes a nuisance, and did not hide the fact well.

Jadu came in with a steaming cup of tea and the morning newspaper. Rahul was not very interested in the news, but reading the paper gave him something to do to pass the time. Jadu informed him that Mohan had mentioned something about coming today. Apparently he had something important to discuss.

Rahul frowned! For the life of him, he could not recall what this important thing was. His memory was also going, he thought sadly.

The doorbell rang. Who could it be so early? It was only 8:30 in the morning. Jadu entered the room, followed by Mohan. Jadu was looking excited. Mohan bent and touched his feet. Gently helping Rahul up, he guided him to the front door.

Outside stood a shining yellow and black Ambassador car! Rahul was happy, very happy, for Mohan. He had finally realized his dream of becoming a taxi owner. It had taken him a long time, but better late than never. Mohan was smiling broadly. He touched Rahul's feet again.

“Saheb, it is only because of you that I could buy this taxi. If you had not supported me all these years, I would never even have thought of doing this. However, today I must confess that you are like a God to me. I know you were paying me more than the market rate, but what really helped me was the extra 10 rupees that you dropped beside the door everyday so that I would not feel that you were giving me alms.

I picked the money up every day and put it aside. That is why I could save enough to buy this beautiful car. Thank you, Saheb! I will never forget your kindness.”

Hearing these words, Rahul was shocked. “You mean to say that you stole the money from the old beggar all these years?”

“What old beggar, Saheb?” Mohan was confused.

“Why the old man who sleeps here every night. I used to leave the money for him!” Rahul did not understand what Mohan was saying.

“Which old beggar are you talking about, Kaka?” Jadu joined in.

Rahul was now getting irritated. “The old beggar who slept here since I shifted to this house! You mean you are both so blind that you have not noticed the man who has been sleeping here for three decades or more?”

“But there has been nobody here, Saheb! At least one of us would have seen him sometime!” both said, almost in a chorus.

Rahul was now angry. “Just you wait, both of you! I will show you tonight when he comes. I want you to be here. No excuses!" Rahul stormed off.

Night came. They waited and waited, late into the night. However, there was no old beggar! Jadu and Mohan were casting apprehensive looks at each other. Had their Saheb gone mad?????

The beggar did not come that night, or the next one or the one after that. Enquiries revealed that no one else seemed to have seen him. Rahul vaguely recalled that he had bought the house dirt-cheap all those years ago. Apparently, no one else was willing to buy it. Something about it being haunted!

But the beggar or ghost or whatever it was never came. He had never caused Rahul any trouble.

Mohan looked wistfully at the blanket that he had given the old beggar. Surprisingly all those decades had not caused any wear and tear on it.

The blanket was as good as new!

Probably the beggar had some good deed to do before he could attain salvation. Helping Mohan achieve his dream had probably fulfilled the task.

The ghost of the “beggar” had achieved salvation!

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