Destiny's child. Nope. That was not him. He was short, dark and hardly spoke. When he did he stuttered and lisped. Ridiculed, he had learnt to blend with the background. To add to his woes, he was the elder son of his father, a man of modest means,who had died soon after he completed school. The only things brilliant about him were his smile and his mind.
He was, now at the age of nineteen, the man of the house, with an old mother, two younger sisters and a brother, looking to him for support, financial and emotional. The only thing in his favor, was that he worked hard, very hard. Maybe if he had the means, he would have had a college education, and a good job. But alas, those dreams were buried with his father.
Thrust into the world of hardnosed businessmen, his acumen lay in accounts. There too, however, because of his diffident persona, the only employment he got was with the city miser, who worked him hard and long for the mere subsistence pay he gave him. Still he toiled on. Most of his pay, took care of his family's needs. It was not in his nature to complain over his lot. He didn't have the time for it.
Then he fell in love. The girl was his sister's best friend. A sensitive, good looking girl, she came from a well to do home. Her reluctant father took convincing, but they were soon married. Their home, in the poorest section of town, was on the third floor. But they lived on cloud nine. Their belief in each other hardy.
He took up double the amount of work than before. Nights, they would work at accounts, and come morning, he would help her fill water from the municipal tap on the street. Then they would cook together their meal for the day. Growing in stature, and confidence, he prospered slowly. No work was too menial. Together they made cards, and scandalised the community by selling them outside the local masjid, during the holy month of Ramzan. His smile and gentle mien, endeared him to many. Shaking off the yoke of the miser, he started off on his own. Selling hardware by day, and writing accounts by night.
There joy knew no bounds, as they welcomed first one, then another son into the world. Soon they left the city, for greener pastures in the fast developing city of Banglore.
They had now entered the city of their dreams. One heard that they had built a palatial home and sent their children abroad for studies. The connection between us, his cousins in law, became distant as he scaled the heights of his dreams and ambitions.
I went to meet him after a gap of twenty years. Sitting in the ornate sitting room, I was reflecting on life when he walked in. Greying at the temples now, dressed in a suit, a lot had changed about him. The humility had given way to arrogance. His discussions on business in Kolkata were high handed. His denouement of that city vociferous. His wife, my cousin, sat silent, occasionally, he would issue commands of the domestic kind, ( ' I want my laptop, its in the bedroom.') A weariness in her demeanour left me nonplussed. Cutting short my visit, I left his home.
He had colonised the seventh heavens. He now resided in the Ivory Tower which he had made for himself.. Destiny's child had lost his destination.
He was, now at the age of nineteen, the man of the house, with an old mother, two younger sisters and a brother, looking to him for support, financial and emotional. The only thing in his favor, was that he worked hard, very hard. Maybe if he had the means, he would have had a college education, and a good job. But alas, those dreams were buried with his father.
Thrust into the world of hardnosed businessmen, his acumen lay in accounts. There too, however, because of his diffident persona, the only employment he got was with the city miser, who worked him hard and long for the mere subsistence pay he gave him. Still he toiled on. Most of his pay, took care of his family's needs. It was not in his nature to complain over his lot. He didn't have the time for it.
Then he fell in love. The girl was his sister's best friend. A sensitive, good looking girl, she came from a well to do home. Her reluctant father took convincing, but they were soon married. Their home, in the poorest section of town, was on the third floor. But they lived on cloud nine. Their belief in each other hardy.
He took up double the amount of work than before. Nights, they would work at accounts, and come morning, he would help her fill water from the municipal tap on the street. Then they would cook together their meal for the day. Growing in stature, and confidence, he prospered slowly. No work was too menial. Together they made cards, and scandalised the community by selling them outside the local masjid, during the holy month of Ramzan. His smile and gentle mien, endeared him to many. Shaking off the yoke of the miser, he started off on his own. Selling hardware by day, and writing accounts by night.
There joy knew no bounds, as they welcomed first one, then another son into the world. Soon they left the city, for greener pastures in the fast developing city of Banglore.
They had now entered the city of their dreams. One heard that they had built a palatial home and sent their children abroad for studies. The connection between us, his cousins in law, became distant as he scaled the heights of his dreams and ambitions.
I went to meet him after a gap of twenty years. Sitting in the ornate sitting room, I was reflecting on life when he walked in. Greying at the temples now, dressed in a suit, a lot had changed about him. The humility had given way to arrogance. His discussions on business in Kolkata were high handed. His denouement of that city vociferous. His wife, my cousin, sat silent, occasionally, he would issue commands of the domestic kind, ( ' I want my laptop, its in the bedroom.') A weariness in her demeanour left me nonplussed. Cutting short my visit, I left his home.
He had colonised the seventh heavens. He now resided in the Ivory Tower which he had made for himself.. Destiny's child had lost his destination.
what an inspirational piece! what experiences the gentleman must have gone through!
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