Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
From K V Golconda near about 10 students belonging to class
ninth had been chosen to represent the State rally. We belonged to different sections. I and my
friend Rupa belonged to the C section. My mother never wanted me to be a part
of this rally. She had pampered me being the youngest and I honestly did not
know the basics of being independent even in my day to day chores. As a
neighbour was going for this trip she reluctantly let me go when my father stupendously
decided to let me go. The Rally was organised in the month of December at Neemuch
which lies on the border of Rajasthan. When we reached Neemuch after two and a
half days travel in a passenger train we found our accommodation was in mere
canvas tents. We had to settle down fast with our luggage as we had to display
our mastered skills with reef knots and many other skills. There were many
tests to be dealt and endurance tests to be endured; the greatest one was
sleeping in the cold tents. Each day was a suffering of waking up at five in
the morning and rushing for the parade.
It was a harsh period and we all missed
the warmth of our homes and our parents and siblings. Deep within my heart I decided
never to leave my home. It was during a
bio break that we all had loitered to eat cream rolls sold by the villagers in
a make shift shop. There was a day left
to wind up. We all were on the look out to buy a few things for our parents.
I
bought a few trinkets for my sisters and a painting for my brother as we made way
towards the man selling these chappals. Both of us wanted to buy it for our
mothers. The vendor had only one pair. I didnt know the size of my mother’s
foot.
Rupa seemed to have an idea. He quoted rupees ten but we haggled and
brought the price down to rupees nine. They were crudely made by the villagers
who carried these in a basket. Rupa said that her mother would be pleased but
she let me take it after a little introspection. We completed the training
successfully and surpassed as first class guides. On reaching home my mother
got busy disinfecting all my things. At the end of the day I gave away the
gifts to my sisters and brother. When I showed the chappals to my mother, she
lovingly hugged me and enquired why had I not spent the money on myself. Before
I could say anything she wiped her tears from the corner of her eyes saying
that any other child would have spent the money to buy goodies. I felt tall
that day due to the appreciation attained and the happiness experienced by my
mother. I lost my mother the very next
year but have always cherished the memory of giving her a present. If my friend
had taken the pair of chappals for her mother that day, I would have had the remorse of not endowing my mother with a gift in her lifetime. As I grew older
I learnt a valuable lesson of giving and living with the most joyful gift “the
present”. The precious present .If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.
Very touching. And also teaches us that real joy is in giving, not having!
ReplyDeleteThank you sir
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