He sighted a boy in red
sweater. And his feelings kindled regarding the red sweater. His eyes
brightened up on imagining himself in a bright red sweater holding the hands of
his parents. Alas! It could never be true. He loved red colour. It brought
immense joy to him. And he loved a sweater in this colour. It brought a kind of
thrill to his heart.
Then the rash honking of horn
by a Haryana roadways bus and a rain of abuses by its driver brutally dragged
Ramu out of his lovely daydreaming. He pushed his wheel cart to a side on which
he sat cross-legged to allow parking space for the bus.
He looked at his clothes that
were in tatters. A grey sweater so old and full of holes that its existence
proved futile in the harsh winter of December. His bare feet collected the
entire chill in its surrounding, transmitting it to his head and giving it an
ache.
He pushed his cart to the tea
vendor Kishan, held his steel glass in his hands with his hungry eyes searching
for any signs of mercy in the eyes of Kishan. Kishan fed Ramu as per his mood.
Sometimes he seemed to care too much for him and sometimes he bombarded Ramu
with choicest of abuses.
Kishan threw a look at Ramu’s
begging bowl and seeing a few coins in it asked:
“Hand me some.”
Ramu did not budge from his position,
maintaining his posture as he knew soon leftover tea in the Kishan’s kettle will
make its way into his glass.
Soon it happened making the
glass half-full. Ramu took a small sip; he wanted the tea to stay longer in the
glass so that he could savour its taste and warm his hands for a long time.
“Now bugger off,” shouted
Kishan as Ramu was blocking way of his paying customers.
Ramu gulped hurriedly the last
sip and pushed his cart to a side.
His eyes fell on Kalua, his
boss. Kalua had many beggars like Ramu under his command from whom he collected
earnings in the afternoon and evening.
Soon he found Kalua standing
in front of him. His skin was so black that his black moustaches were nearly
invisible and his white eyes always looked distinct from his face.
“Bastard where were you in
the afternoon,” demanded Kalua.
“I was… was here,” stammered
Ramu.
“Don’t you dare lie to me.”
And a cheek freezing slap
made its way to Ramu’s face. The force of the slap stung Ramu. It was very cold
and a tight slap was only going to aggravate the situation for Ramu.
“Never budge from your
position,” ordered Kalua as he bent down to collect all the coins in Ramu’s
bowl and moved on.
Ramu’s eyes became moist but
he looked heavenwards to contain his tears.
Again, the sight of the red
sweater made Ramu happy.
This time a kid around two
was wearing the red sweater who was with his parents. The kid had a fair colour
and the red sweater provided a faint red glow to his cheeks. The parents were finding
it difficult to control the kid’s enthusiasm in the bus stand.
“It might be his first trip,”
wondered Ramu.
The kid was running here and
there giving his parents a tough time. Then the kid stood before Ramu. Ramu
gave him a big smile. The kid showed his teeth in return. Ramu’s hands
automatically touched the red sweater and he could feel the softness of the
wool. It was a brand new sweater. The kid’s mother with a jerk brushed off
Ramu’s hands and she hurriedly picked up the kid. The kid gave out a loud cry. And
the mother, frightened by Ramu’s appearance placed a soft slap on the kid’s
face.
Ramu felt bad for the kid. He
felt himself responsible for the slap.
“I should not have touched
him,” regretted Ramu.
But he knew he didn’t did it
deliberately. He was just a slave of his instincts at that time. He always
wanted a red sweater but he knew no parents other than Kalua. And Kalua could
never afford to have a clean and good looking Ramu as he was supposed to beg,
to stir pity in the hearts of those who looked at him.
“One day I will run and wear
a red sweater,” decided Ramu.
Kalua could think far ahead of him and he had
made sure that Ramu could never be immunised for polio and this resulted in an
invalid Ramu fulfilling the requirement of Kalua.
Kalua stole infants from
anywhere. He even stole one day old from the hospitals. Some of them, the good
looking ones were sold to couples desperate for a child and the unfortunate ones
like Ramu were destined for bus stands, traffic lights, railway stations and
crowded markets.
The mother made herself
comfortable on a wooden bench with her back towards Ramu. The father went to
buy tickets. The red sweater baby placed his chin on the mother’s shoulder
facing Ramu. Ramu was relishing the blessed scene from a distance. The mother
was lovingly patting her son. And every pat released a full smile from the boy
spreading joy in the world.
Just then, Ramu’s whole body
went into a kind of paralysis. His stare froze. He saw Kalua leaned against a
round pillar. He was standing a few steps away staring at the child. The mother
ceased to pat her child. She was now sitting erect hugging the child more
tightly. A sense of anxiety spread on the child’s face. A rush of passengers
who had just alighted from a Punjab roadways
bus blocked Ramu’s vision. They were all loud and cheerful. And they were
supposed to behave in this pompous manner as they were Punjabis and moreover they
had a newly wed couple accompanying them.
After a few minutes of restless
waiting all the passengers walked ahead providing Kalua with a hindrance free
vision. The scene was same with Kalua still staring at the baby. Kalua’s eyes
for a second changed their course, took a full round of the bus stand and then
stopped midway to meet Constable Hari Ram’s. Kalua winked at him. And the
bastard Hari Ram who beat Ramu frequently for fun and when drunk even snatched
his earnings, disappeared into the washroom.
Now Ramu became worried. He knew
what was about to happen? Ramu’s forehead created beads of sweat on it in the
chilly weather. He knew that after a few minutes the child would never look so
pretty. The child will always yearn for a red sweater. The child will become
like Ramu for the rest of his life. And he prayed frantically that none of this
should happen.
As Ramu was busy with his thoughts,
Ramu heard a frightening loud sound. A tyre may have burst. But it looked like
many tyres have burst together. Ramu’s eyes ran all over the bus stand and he saw
that the Punjabi’s had lighted a few crackers. They were clapping and their joy
knew no bounds. But this created total chaos in the bus stand. People panicked,
ran for their lives. Babies cried for their mothers.
Ramu’s eyes searched for the
red sweater kid. He was safe in the hands of his mother but the father had not
arrived yet and the mother was frantically shouting for him.
Ramu saw the disgusting Kalua run towards the
red sweater kid. He gave no time for the mother to act, a fist blow in the
stomach of the mother, some wails, shouting and the kid was in the hands of
Kalua.
Ramu shouted for help as he
saw Kalua escaping with the red sweater kid. And he knew that another kid has
lost his red sweater forever.
© Atul Sharma
Image Credits : Imagebase.net by David Niblack
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