Finally the summers have faded
away, and the chill was settling on the two ends of the day. Beginning of
winters in the Himalayas are marked by the sweet chilliness, making you
love the sun suddenly. The white clouds walk with you during the morning visit
to the milkman or evening walk to the small market, to fetch vegetables. After
all, leisure walks are the prerogative of the rich, and Mr. Kashyap was nowhere
in this class. Representing the largest economic group of India, the middle
class, or as some have called it, the Sanskari
(ethical) class, Mr. Kashyap has been working day in- day out for the
family, for the society, for the food and clothing essentially. In this small
hill city, his life has been dictated by the routine. He usually kept to himself
as he thought or knew that unnecessary friend circle will lead to nothing but
strain on the pocket with meaningless social exchanges. Moreover, his office
was also quiet with not much people to interact with—after all what do you
expect from a small hill town’s two room public library. His peon, Ranjit babu,
as he likes to hear himself, was the other one in the library.
On one cloudy evening, on his way
from the office, Mr. Kashyap stopped at the Ram
Roop sweet shop, the best one in the town, or some may like to call it the
only one in the town. Actually when you have but a single choice, enjoy it
rather than grumble about it. So standing at this best sweet shop, Mr. Kashyap
was busy looking at the freshly cooked Samosas,
considering if he should purchase them or just let it pass like any other
day. Making up his mind, deciding to surprise his wife and pleasing the kids,
he started calculating the no. of pieces to be ordered.
“Two for papa, one for amma- she has a bird’s
appetite, kids can have two each, one for Rachna, my sweetheart…. No-no two for
her, she has been working too hard with kids for their exams these days, two
for self. Ok that makes it eleven in total” talked Mr. Kashyap to himself.
“Bhiya, give
eleven Samosas , how much ???” “55 rupees librarian babu—5 rupee per piece”
came a quick reply.
“Make it a
round figure, give me 10 Samosas only,” said he loudly followed by the
whispering “I m not much hungry either,” with sadness overcoming his not
uncommon face. Then a smile came, a sense of pride, for making small saving.
Catching the Samosas and extra chutney from bhiya, he hurried towards the
house, so that they can be served hot.
Reaching inside the house, lost in
the thoughts of the upcoming joy in home on hearing the word Samosas, he called Rachna, with the typical Indian
style. “Listen, Miran’s mother…. Listen Rachna, where r u, see what I have
brought !!” With a few seconds delay, Miran and his elder sister, Madhvi came
running out. Before Mr. Kashyap could say anything, “Papa see, Neeru aunty has
come, with Rishab.” Taken aback, as he knew that his wife’s friend Neeru, and
hers Madhvi’s age son, are ardent fans of Ram Roop’s Samosas. Before he could
say another word, he could see Rachna thanking him for bringing Samosas and
Rishab circling him while smacking his tongue. It would have been great if I
could tell you that a smile overcame his not uncommon face, but his face had
every other expression but joy. He was able to see Samosas floating away to the
masters bedroom or the common room or kid’s room or whatever you’ll call this
all purpose room, it doesn’t matter right now.
“Four
Samosas gone.. or may be five to Neeru n the kid, six left.. two for papa, one
for amma, three left.. I have a wife and two kids… one each.. only one each”
were the thoughts flowing when Rachna came with a samosa for Kashyap ji, his
loving, adorable Kashyap ji, or Goblu( though in private only.) . Looking at
her, all he could utter is “ I m feeling somewhat heavy today, you eat,” and saying
this with a huge smile, he left for a walk, a leisure walk, no more a
prerogative of the rich-- maybe, to be lost in the clouds of the hills.© dixitsharma
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