“It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being.”― John Joseph Powell,
Swami is a trash picker who joined our housing society last year. The name Swami, ‘master’ is paradoxical to Swami’s actual personality. Swami is lean, feeble, boyish statured and sports grey hair on his head, he wets and slaps his hair to cover a part of his forehead. He has a warm smile that is hidden by his apprehensive, shy demeanour. He has a characteristic bend that makes him look much older than his age.
Swami had superseded Ranjit the trash picker. Ranjit was brawny but sluggish in his behaviour. He followed erratic timings of work. We could sometimes hear him sweeping the housing complex at 5 in the morning with his long noisy broom, and on many other days, he wouldn’t begin even at noon. He would take a couple of days off a week, and his usual answer on enquiry was “my wife was sick”. His wife would accompany him and sometimes his children too. They would work as a family but with a terrifying noise all around. It was as if to display his exasperation and energy. He would drop the large garbage bins on each floor with a thud and leave with his noise in rhetorics ‘kachara, kachara’( waste, garbage)
The housing society had a green lawned park, but Ranjit would never sweep it or take care of it. The governing body appointed a healthy and robust gardener to get the green lawned area and the adjoining places upgraded with plenty of plants. He was called ‘More’ with additional stress on the last letter. He was tall dark and strapping. He possessed an aura of energy and a zeal to work. There was a newness in his work every day. We soon saw beautiful potted plants lining the staircase and sometimes tall terracotta pots like those mystical ones from Aladdin in the green lawned space under the tall palm trees in the garden. He would place them in the thickets and grow creepers in the terracotta making the garden enigmatic. He delightfully designed the garden space for the children and adults. A small stage with stairs was created at one end of the garden. During the festivals, the stage would come alive with lights and the people would watch their children’s performance sitting on the green grassy lawn. He would visit the society just two days a week.
Ranjit was well acquainted with More’. He would chat with people while he cleaned the campus, swept the staircases, washed the doorsteps once a week. When the water started clogging at places, the people in the housing society showed their annoyance. The presiding authorities asked Ranjit to change the washing to mopping the stairs. There were days when he would work continuously, and then there would be a lull. Each day the families would keep their trash out, but Ranjit would not appear. Harassed and tired the housing society decided to appoint a new garbage picker.
There was a rosy picture drawn for the people in the society asking them to keep their trash at their doorstep before 9 am. They said that unlike Ranjit, Swami was prompt and would empty the garbage before 9. No one needed a second word. They began keeping their trash ready by half-past eight. Swami did appear on time for a few days, and then he fell sick due to the excess work. The work was too much for a lean, feeble person like Swami. For a week, the people in the housing society deposited their trash in the local centre. They pleaded to usher Ranjit back for work.
Swami had a large family to take care of, but the work was beyond his capacity. His father was exactly like him, lean, frail and feeble. He had tried helping him. One day, More’ found Swami sitting in the garden looking downcast… More’ asked, ‘Swami, why are you depressed and why aren’t you regular with the work?’ Swami had often found a friend in More’. The kind voice brought tears into his eyes. He sobbed and said, ‘I find the work a lot, I am unable to sweep, mop and empty trash in the given time for 200 families who live here but I need the job’. More’ looked at the frail young man, he decided to share his energy and time. He spoke to the governing body and they shared the job contract this time. The families began sweeping their doorsteps to make work easier for Swami. More’ and Swami shared the weights of the trash bins they carried, ate their lunch together and created beautiful spaces each day. The newness brought in lots of positivity in Swami. When the duo fixed the balancing bars for the children in the garden, the kids yelled in joy and hung on it, a few sat on the sparkling black rods, and many others stood around it. They clicked photographs, but their masks were on. Swami wore his mask and stood far away from the kids, but his ardent smile was visible as crowfeet near his eyes, displaying the elation he felt.
Swami’s work and his persona changed into a confident one., he made it a point to share the good clothes that he received from well-wishers with the security personnel and others. More’ never took any of these as he had enough but was always there to share his warmth. He shared his warmth He helped More’ with the garden. During festivals, they decorated the lounge areas with marigold and mango leaves. They brought in special plants and lined the staircases. It was a pleasure to watch them breathe in new life for each other
“What’s in life without Camaraderie? For setting sail on a ship with a band of merry brothers by your side is much more gratifying than drifting aimlessly on a boat lost alone at sea.”― Saim .A. Cheeda
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