Naman was livid. He felt insulted, belittled and cheated all at the same time. His voice almost trembling with rage, he pointed towards the door and said " GET OUT! NOW !!!
Without uttering a single word but his eyes heavy with humiliation and hostility, Bharat picked his black leather bag, exited Noman's bedroom and out of the front door in a few quick steps.
Just as he was catching his breath, Naman heard his mom's voice - "taïnnu sharam nahin aaundi? Kisey nu apne ghar bulaa ke aistraan kaddi da hai?”
‘Have you got no shame at all? You can't invite someone home and then ask them to get out that like that!’ - she scolded him in no uncertain terms.
"But Mom …..” he started.
"Mainnu nahin pata. Odey picchey ja te dhang naal gall mukaa”
‘I don't need to know. Just go after him and settle the matter the way it ought to be’ - She commanded in her well familiar tone that Naman realised hadn’t been directed at him for years now.
Almost as a reflex action to her words, Naman leapt on to his feet and ran outwards, his mind racing ahead of him, scrambling to choose his next words and emotions when he would face Bharat.
Does he call out his name? Just shout stop ? How does he manage it to be between a command or request tone? Or simply shout a “Sorry” ? None seemed right because he wasn't sure how he felt right now. He was still furious about what he had done.
He got outside and onto the road leading to the gate for the colony. Bharat's green-grey Bajaaj scooter was nowhere to be seen.
By the time Naman came back, Mom was in the kitchen already. "Kee gall hoi?" ‘How did it go?’ She inquired.
“Nothing. He had left already. I'll talk to him when I meet him next time" Naman responded unconvincingly, keeping his eyes to the ground, walking briskly towards his room.
Naman busied himself, trying to take his mind off the altercation. He was struggling to accept all that had transpired within the last 10 minutes.
It wasn't unlike him to argue to prove his point but it was very much unlike himself to be so rude to ask someone to get out. In fact this was a first for himself. But then Bharat was outright lying to his face! This was …. Day light robbery!
Naman was so lost in his thoughts he didn't realise how long Mom had been standing in the doorway, a plate of uncooked rice grains in one hand, picking out tiny white pebbles with the other. He only registered her presence when she gently placed the plate on the nearby study table and sat besides him.
“Hoya ki hai?”
‘Tell me what's wrong?’ She asked in her comforting mom-like tone.
“He cheated me mom! He sold me a CD with just manuals instead of software I asked him to get! And then…. “ the banks were breached and he was surprised when he started bawling like a little boy.
Mom kept her hand on his lap and said “ bas, bas”. He tried to regain his composure, feeling ashamed, a twenty year old crying like that.
“He’s been lying for the last two weeks, telling me he'll get the right one but he didn't. “ Naman pleaded between sobs, still on the verge of crying. “Today he got another CD but it was exactly the same as first one. When I asked, he claimed that's the one he had always promised! Can you believe that ? Why would he agree to change it in the first place if he thought it was the right one?? ”
“ Bas! Aide wich ron di kedhi gal hai?” ‘That's it? What's there to cry in it?’ mom inquired
“Sir svaa pa odey. Kinney di hai ? Kissey hor kolon le le.” ‘*Shame on him‘ Mom said with her oft repeated lament, ‘How much did it cost? Just get it from some one else’ - she suggested.
That triggered him and off he went crying again
" Maine itni muskkil se passion ka intezaam kiya tha “ ‘I took me so much effort to arrange for that money’ - Naman sobbed and said.
" 1500 Rupees. That new student whom I started tutoring….. it was all for this CD. I take time out of my college …. my computer classes ….. I walk so far ….. wreck my brains out…. All of it for one greedy person to come and take me for a fool ? …. " he blabbered in broken sentences before realising he didn’t exactly mean to pour out his heart like that.
Although close to his family, he never complained, nor mentioned the pressures he was going through to fund his studies and software development coaching. After all, everyone in his family were all dealing with similar situations in their own unique ways - making the best possible use of opportunities amidst dearth of resources.
“ Bas bas. Koi gal nahin. Aistraan himmat nahin chhaddi di” - ‘there there, don't give up like that’ she consoled, wiping away his tears with her palm, a but of his anguish now reflecting in her eyes and a couple of wrinkles on her forehead too.
“But mom he cheated ...." Naman started
“Sir svaa odey.” - ‘Shame on him’ - She repeated and interrupted him in her mock scolding tone.
“Khasmaan nu khaaye. 1500 rupaye hi si na? Koi gall nahin. Pher aa jaan ge. Tainnu pata te hai sadde naal aiston kinney waddey waddey dhokhe hoey ne, o vi apneyaan haathon.“
‘Let him go to hell (Not literal translation). It was just Rs.1500 wasn’t it? ‘ Mom asked and continued without waiting for an answer this time - ‘You’ll earn that again. You know very well, we’ve been defrauded for much bigger amounts and that too by people close to us. ‘
“Rabb sab vekhda ai. Tere haq da tu aiston kayi guna hor kama lega, mainnu pata hai”
‘God sees everything. I know for sure, if you deserve it, you’ll earn many more times of that’ - she continued and assured Naman, although still in a mock telling off tone.
This was very much mom like paranormal, poetic justice perspective but it got the penny to drop in Naman’s head. He sat there, still sobbing softly but no longer feeling the tinge of being belittled - neither for being taken advantage of nor for being rude even to someone who did wrong by him. Instead, he was surprisingly feeling richer by the whole experience. In an instant he saw it for what it was - a little hinderance in his hither to smooth sailing but short experience in gainful employment. In the grand scheme of life, this would be one of many such events and he can’t allow himself to fly off the hinge. Instead it was time to learn and take notes.
He was now looking forward to see Bharat, walking up to him and saying sorry for treating him the way he did. He had already lost his money but, thanks to his mom’s words, he could mentally write off the amount now and claim back his moral high ground. Then, he could start working his way back to saving again and get the software through a better person in near future.
Twenty five odd years later, living comfortably in a different country and much different financial situations, Naman once again has this feeling of being cheated. This time, it isn’t caused by a known face like Bharat but by faceless forces behind corporates. He is still going to challenge, sure. But by now he does not feel belittled when others are being less than efficient with facts or morals.
Although there’s a lot of money at stake and it definitely hurts his finances, he remembers his mom’s favourite lament “Sir svaa odey” and take it all in his stride.
*Sir svaa odey literally translates to let there be ashes on his/her head, with the intention of Shame on them.
