This boy used to work at a
construction site somewhere in Solan, a beautiful town in Himachal Pradesh, India.
Around 12 yrs old, overly fair with little pock marks on his cheeks and small
eyes. He had a spark. I don’t know where he must be at the moment but he had
something in him which struck me the first time I saw him.
I met him on the toy train, which
I boarded at Kalka Junction. The wide gauge railway line did not ply across
places beyond Kalka, thus the toy train. Personally I hated it. The scenic
beauty, the snow capped mountains, the 103 tunnels on the way were all fine,
but it was hell of a ride for me. The train went uphill and thus it went in
circles. One could easily shake hands with the people in the first compartment
of the train leaning out from the last. I had a massive weakness with anything
which revolved in circles, may it be a toy train, a giant wheel or the thought
of the earth spinning constantly.
The boy was sitting at the door
of the moving train with some kind of a musical instrument in his hands. I went
towards him and sat beside him. It was around 7:30 in the morning, and it was
nippy. He was wearing a bandana which was more to protect himself from the
cold. A headgear one could easily find people sporting in that part of the
world. He was in a shirt which went almost till his knees and a cotton pant. It
was a white shirt but it was visibly dirty. I got the impression that he was a
local himachali lad.
“I am waiting for the tunnel”
said the boy.
“Which tunnel?” I asked.
“The one coming up, it’s the
longest one in the whole route till Shimla.” He said.
The Barog tunnel. I had heard
about it, and even I used to wait for that particular tunnel as a kid. I
remembered. Little more than 1 km long
and most probably the longest train tunnel in the world.
“Oh really! How far is it?” I
asked nevertheless.
“It should be just around the
corner.” The boy responded. I could see the excitement in his little eyes.
The train entered the tunnel
and the brouhaha began, it was exiting indeed. The boy played his musical
instrument, which I figured by now, was a Harmonica. He was superb at it, as
the music echoed in the dark. It was a never ending tunnel which lasted around
3-4 minutes, keeping in mind the slowness of the toy train.
“Where are you going?” I asked
“Solan”
“Where in Solan?”
“Kasauli”
“Oh! I am going there too” I
said.
I stayed in New Delhi, and I
was going there to meet my school friends Tejesh and Honey. It was long since I
caught up with my two best buddies from school. We had planned to visit Kullu,
Manali, Rohtang, Dharamsala, Dalhousie and Shimla.
“Who are you with?” I asked.
“Look at the mountains. So
beautiful na saab” he said with a dreamy look on his face.
“Are you travelling alone?” I
asked again, befuddled.
“Yes”
“Where are your parents?”
“They are dead” He said, and
played his Harmonica with the same dreamy look on his face.
I tried to sympathize with
him, the one thing I am very bad at, but soon realized that he didn’t need it.
We chatted about the place we were going to. He gave me insights about how to
reach my destination and how to bargain with the coolies at the station. He
also offered me to get a good bargain with the taxi walla, he was worried that
they might fool me thinking of me as a tourist. We got down at a station and
packed puri bhajji for ourselves. He wanted some jalebis with milk, so I bought
him that too. He got friendly with me over a short span of time and I wasn’t
complaining. I found his company interesting and fun. He was quiet a brainy
chap with knowledge about what’s happening around the country. I got to know
that he left school due to poor finances after his parents died. His uncle made
him work at a construction site, a building which was coming up for residential
purpose in Kasauli. He used to work as a laborer and live there amongst the
ruins alone for the past three years.
“What is your name?” I
realized that I had not asked his name yet.
“Unir..saab”
He unceasingly addressed me as
‘saab’ even after I repeatedly warned him not to. It was more of a habit than
respect I thought.
He was carrying a notebook
with him which was full with sketches. That too good ones. He did not draw
faces, but he sketched everything else, the scenery, the mountains, the terrace
farming, an under construction building, a school, a music class with students
learning to play some instruments. It almost revealed his life. He was
sketching his life and he didn’t even know. I felt sorry for unir. He was a
talented child within realm of possibilities, but he was stuck with the cruel
reality of life. I felt for the plight of many children in similar hapless situations
across the country. All I could do that time was to wish him well in his future
life. I hoped he somehow made his own way and did well for himself in life,
given the potential he had.
The train stopped at the Solan
station, we both got down. Tejesh had called me up to apologize for not making
up to the station. He was stuck with some important work, he reasoned and guided
me on how to reach his place. I did not mind.
Since me and Unir had to reach
Kasauli, we shared the cab. He was a also chivalrous kid and offered to pay for
the cab. Which, of course I denied, although he tried vigorously. I had thought
of giving him some money before we parted, but this episode made me sure that
he won’t accept it ever. So I dropped the idea. He dropped down at the KC
square, and said he would walk down from there.
“Ok saab, thank you. Come to
my building where I work someday.” He said.
I smiled and patted his head,
and we bid adieu.
I met Tejesh and Honey. They
had taken a week off from their respective offices. We visited our school and
caught up with other friends who were still around. Things had changed. The same
school friends who taught each other swear words were being formal now. The
same school friends, who introduced me to midnight hot on fashion TV, were
talking about politics and the current fuck up the country is going through.
Marriage was the hot topic instead of hot girls. These were the same guys who
fought for the other girl in school.
We went for the vacation as
planned. The trip was wonderful. We went for paragliding, skiing, trekking
etc. Boozing with old friends with the
bonfire was fun. All this while somewhere I thought about Unir. I made a
decision to visit him once when I get back to Solan. On the last day of my trip, I
reached that building near KC square, asked a few men working there about Unir.
No one gave me a proper idea where he was. Dejected, I started to walk back to
Tejesh’s place and eventually to the station.
“Saab!!” I heard a voice from
somewhere.
I looked around and found
Unir, sitting with his Harmonica outside the verandah where music was being
taught.
“Hi Unir, How r u? I have been
looking for you.”
“I did not expect you come
saab!”
“I am sure you didn’t” I said
with a smile.
I told him about my jaunt with
friends. We chatted around for sometime. He seemed happy. It showed how lonely
he must have been feeling for the last three years. No one to talk to, no one
to share with, no one to play with. I said that I had only a few hours as I had
to catch the train back to Delhi at 5 PM. As soon as he got to know this, he
held my hand and took me to a nearby restaurant.
"What do you do in Delhi saab?" he asked on the way.
“I am a writer” I said.
“Will you write about me?” he asked curiously.
“Sure” I said and smiled.
“Now, I’ll treat you” he said
suddenly with a sparkle in his eyes.
“But Unir..” I tried to speak.
He cut me in between, “I got
my salary today! I have money saab”
I was amazed by the innocence
of the boy. “So, what will you treat me with Unir?”
“Two glasses of milk with
jalebi please”
he ordered..
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