Wednesday, February 4, 2009

A day in his life

His day begins when his loving mother shakes him to wake him up to begin his exceedingly long day. This thirteen-year old child does not have the privilege of a morning sleep on the pretext of a stomach ache so he doesn't even try, although much like the other children of his age he loves sleeping in. He dresses up in his khaki colored nikker* and half-sleeved white shirt colored in shades of black, grey and brown over the last three days and hops, skips and jumps for a good fifty minutes to get to Basant Chowk, one of the busy parts of Mumbai, even before the horizon turns light crimson. Once he reaches his destination, a chirpy "Namaste babu!" is uttered to the grave looking gentleman sitting at the counter of the chai ki dukaan and he's all set to hustle about the place taking orders and serving the customers.

The morning time is extremely busy as the Indian population needs to wake up with a refreshing cup of tea in order to make their teeny-weeny contribution to the nation's progress. Splitting the clientele of the area with the only other chai shop in the vicinity, the grave looking owner of the chai shop makes sure that he keeps Chhotu and the like on his toes. The morning clientele of the shop has become pretty much regular. Chhotu even remembers the orders of some of the customers by heart, and repeats their orders as a confirmation from them and proceeds with their orders. The weekday morning blues of a number of grumpy sleepy customers sometimes have Chhotu chided to hurry up for their orders. As the day proceeds, Chhotu's legs get relaxed too. In between serving people, Chhotu also has the responsibility of filling up the display trays, cleaning the tables, and helping the people in the kitchen with meager tasks. There are times in the day when he stands still and stares at the television screen meant for customers, and switches back to reality only when Babu's loud shrill voice pierces his ears.

The chai shop attracts a multitude of diversely cultured people to it - ranging from shopkeepers to call center agents to foreign visitors. Occasionally, some young modern enthusiast asks Chhotu why he doesn't go to school and goes on to explain the benefits of education. Chhotu shrugs and gives his marveled response that he's happy where he is, he can understand what's written on the currency of India, and he can tell fake money from real one and that is all he really cares about. Perhaps that is his way of consoling himself now. Perhaps he really is happy. Being of an observant nature, Chhotu gets to learn every single day of his life. The foreign visitors who go to the chai shop "to get the real feel of India" don't look down on him as a menial person - they are well aware of the dignity of labour. In two years Chhotu has learnt enough English to understand and get his message through to the foreigners. He has also realized that the gora people give more tips than the desi crowd. Occasionally, he sees families coming to the place, where spoilt children of rich parents show attitudes and obstinacy. It is very hard for Chhotu to imagine how that is even possible. But well, he learns - people are different. Life is different to different people too.

Chhotu is what people name him when they see him the first time and call him to place an order "Oye Chhotu! Idhar aa." He's small - he's just thirteen, and that is the most common name that a small working boy gets in India. Chhotu actually has a name that only people in his family are aware of - Ramesh. His world - his mother, his 15 years old elder brother and his 2 years old younger sister, is thankfully a loving family. After Chhotu and his brother reaches in the evening after their long day, their mother has already cooked for them, and they are all set to eat dinner. Chhotu doesn't get to play every day, but every week he gets a day off, and that is what he spends with his friends playing on the roads and the dusty cricket ground close by along with helping his mother take care of his sister and helping her get some bare minimum necessities for the week. Things have been harder to manage for the family recently because of the demise of Chhotu's father and the non-working status of his mother since the birth of his two-years old sister.

He dreams as big as his size. He dreams of owning a similar chai shop some day. He dreams of contributing to get his sister married - his mother talks about that a lot. He dreams of being able to play cricket with his friends everyday. His unrealistic dreams involve meeting Hrithik Roshan some day, and of being extremely rich so that he doesn't have to work at all. Nevertheless, he can separate the reality from his virtual world, and is leading a content life for the moment. He doesn't have the time to sit back and measure the contentment and happiness in his life - he has to do things the way they are now. He'll worry about tomorrow when tomorrow shows its face...

*Half-pants/shorts

4 comments:

Peenuts said...

Very well written..btw whose story is this??

chunky said...

Thanks :)
It's the story of some random chai-wallah in a busy area of Mumbai. Done based only on imagination, and may be a couple of movie portrayals of such a character...

Satish said...

good work payaliyaaaaaaaa..

and thanks for the blog, critical analysis will be given to you directly :P

Rahul said...

nice story
only you should've based it in Delhi:$
There's no room for Basant Chowk in Mumbai, everything has to be related to Shivaji/Jija mata/some freedom fighter.
Also, there's less 'Chhotu's in Mumbai, more 'Tambi's :)