He might probably be one of the most uninteresting topics for most of you. But kunal, unintentionally has become an important part of my life. Kunal, a five year old street kid who lives at the doorstep of my college. Just like any other unnoticed kid on the streets he lives his life carefree of the troubles of the world. His life is not disturbed by the periodic change of political parties, of inflation, of having to live a life in a world so competitive. All that matters to him are the three meals of his day.
The first time I met Kunal was about a year back. Wearing a pair of over sized shorts which were forced to fit him by a tattered rope. With his fragile little hands he handed over to me an empty bottle saying "Didi, thanda paani bhar ke do na (Please fill this with cold water)." And the moment I filled the bottle and gave it back to him I heard him saying something which totally surprised me.
"Thank you didi"
Thank you?? It had been ages since I even heard that. Even in the civilised world we live in! There was something about that kid that always made me fond of him. Was it his manners? Was it his innocence? Was it his ability to smile even in the life that he lived while I whined with all that I have? Or maybe, it was just him as a person on the whole. Kunal on the whole is a lovely kid. Much civilized than the rich brats I see who throw tantrums for everything to be more than one.
It was yesterday after going on a shopping spree, I entered a gift shop to but somethings i needed. Kunal was sitting outside the shop, still wearing that smile which even now amuses me, asking all the passer by's to buy him a helicopter toy. As soon as he saw me, his face gleamed with a ray of hope, that the didi who always filled him a bottle of cold water may also fill his bare hands with a glossy toy. For a moment I even looked at the price tag. It was for Rs.1000. I sure as hell couldn't afford that for him. And though I tried to tell him that it is expensive and I wouldn't be able to get it for him, he just didn't understand. In vain, I ignored his call and walked away.
On one side, though it might seem good enough for him to be kept away from politics, from inflation, from the worries of living in a competetive world, doesn't it become his right to be involved in all of this? Why is it that some of us get to go to college and bunk classes just to have fun while all that he can ever do is press his face up the windows and look into the empty classrooms? Why is it that some of us sit and whine at what all we missed on while he hasn't even had the privilege of counting what he has? Is it fair? Who is responsible for this child's cry? Who can hear it?
While as of now, all I can do is blog about it, I hope someday Kunal grows up and gets his own glossy helicopter to fly above the world.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Coco the clown
Behind the dingy orange veil, he sat down, one more day, to take the mask off his face. He looked at his own show tickets and laughed. Coco the clown. He never really liked that name. Coco- sounds warm, loving and happy. Completely ironical to his life. Everything seemed fake to him, for he laughed in pain and he laughed in joy. Wearing a smile became a profession than a privilege. What a pity!
But the only thing these days that had been putting a smile on his face was Laila, his secret love. She worked as an apprentice in a magic show in the same circus. Her charm had bewitched coco. It turned him from a mere joker to a man. All that he could think of in the last few months was her. So much that it became difficult for him to concentrate on his work. Sometimes, he drifted into his own sweet world and wouldn't come back to his senses unless his boss snapped him out of it. Sometimes he even got yelled at. But it dint bother him much. He had the privilege of living a happy life with her, in his mind. There were times when she'd occasionally look at him as well. And whenever she did, she made his day.
The Brazilian fest seemed to be the biggest fest at that time. Coco couldn't possibly miss this chance. He made up his mind that this time he would ask Laila out. He somehow summed up the courage and did. At first she laughed. Coco's heart lumped in his throat. Then in an almost inaudible voice she said yes. His heart was filled with ecstasy. He was elated to a state of perpetual joy which he didn't know how to handle. He hadn't felt so alive in all these years.
The carnival had finally arrived. Seemed like a lifetime to him. He signed up for morning shows on that day so as to not clash with his date. Date! How funny and simple did that word seem compared to the battle raging in his heart. He wore the best suit he had to impress his lady. He bought her a bunch of roses like a perfect gentleman would. He wondered what the eve would be like. He thought of taking her around the carnival. Being her man for the day. Showing her and telling her things she had never heard of before. Taking her for a dance. Buying her a gift at the carnival which would always remind her about him. She'd certainly be surprised to see such a sensitive man behind those clown feet and the red nose. Coco was more than a clown. He was a man who was forced to turn his life into a joke for the amusement of others. But beyond all that, a small part of him still wished to laugh genuinely, to cry, to be angry or sad. To love. To live...
Yes, he wanted to show her whom he really was.
During these beautiful moments of waiting for her, of the anxiety and the impatience raging through, he suddenly hear a voice call him out. It was his boss. He told him that the other clown has been throwing up all day and that Coco will have to take his place for the evening show. He tried to explain it to his boss that he cannot, but in vain. He quickly scribbled down a note explaining everything and telling her that he'd be back by nine. He left it along with the bunch of roses hoping that she'd find them.
He rushed his way through the show, almost skipping some acts, and off he ran to his lady love in his clown clothes.
There she was, in someone else's arms. Someone younger and more handsome than what he was. She walked past him without even casting a glance. He didn't know what to do. For he didn't realize what he felt. It was that same cold feeling again. Yes, life had numbed him yet another time. He slowly walked his way back to the room behind the dingy orange veil. A tear trickled down his cheek. Tears! It had been a lifetime since he felt those! Without saying a word, he sat down, one more day, to take the eternal mask off his face.
But the only thing these days that had been putting a smile on his face was Laila, his secret love. She worked as an apprentice in a magic show in the same circus. Her charm had bewitched coco. It turned him from a mere joker to a man. All that he could think of in the last few months was her. So much that it became difficult for him to concentrate on his work. Sometimes, he drifted into his own sweet world and wouldn't come back to his senses unless his boss snapped him out of it. Sometimes he even got yelled at. But it dint bother him much. He had the privilege of living a happy life with her, in his mind. There were times when she'd occasionally look at him as well. And whenever she did, she made his day.
The Brazilian fest seemed to be the biggest fest at that time. Coco couldn't possibly miss this chance. He made up his mind that this time he would ask Laila out. He somehow summed up the courage and did. At first she laughed. Coco's heart lumped in his throat. Then in an almost inaudible voice she said yes. His heart was filled with ecstasy. He was elated to a state of perpetual joy which he didn't know how to handle. He hadn't felt so alive in all these years.
The carnival had finally arrived. Seemed like a lifetime to him. He signed up for morning shows on that day so as to not clash with his date. Date! How funny and simple did that word seem compared to the battle raging in his heart. He wore the best suit he had to impress his lady. He bought her a bunch of roses like a perfect gentleman would. He wondered what the eve would be like. He thought of taking her around the carnival. Being her man for the day. Showing her and telling her things she had never heard of before. Taking her for a dance. Buying her a gift at the carnival which would always remind her about him. She'd certainly be surprised to see such a sensitive man behind those clown feet and the red nose. Coco was more than a clown. He was a man who was forced to turn his life into a joke for the amusement of others. But beyond all that, a small part of him still wished to laugh genuinely, to cry, to be angry or sad. To love. To live...
Yes, he wanted to show her whom he really was.
During these beautiful moments of waiting for her, of the anxiety and the impatience raging through, he suddenly hear a voice call him out. It was his boss. He told him that the other clown has been throwing up all day and that Coco will have to take his place for the evening show. He tried to explain it to his boss that he cannot, but in vain. He quickly scribbled down a note explaining everything and telling her that he'd be back by nine. He left it along with the bunch of roses hoping that she'd find them.
He rushed his way through the show, almost skipping some acts, and off he ran to his lady love in his clown clothes.
There she was, in someone else's arms. Someone younger and more handsome than what he was. She walked past him without even casting a glance. He didn't know what to do. For he didn't realize what he felt. It was that same cold feeling again. Yes, life had numbed him yet another time. He slowly walked his way back to the room behind the dingy orange veil. A tear trickled down his cheek. Tears! It had been a lifetime since he felt those! Without saying a word, he sat down, one more day, to take the eternal mask off his face.
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