Saturday, May 26, 2012

A Mischievous Imp, a Newspaper, and Me


Are we there yet? My little eight year old mind moaned ruing the earliness of the hour. I cuddled my snuggly Hello Kitty blanket, lovingly called my booboo (my first word apparently), still soft despite the frayed edges. It’s still 7:17am. Eyes closed, I rested my head against my car’s cold window on my journey to school, blissfully shunning the dusty pot holed roads and Delhi’s grey landscape. The chaos of merchants jostling with colorfully ornamented rickshaws, was mercifully drowned by the humming of my luxury car.
“Miss! Miss! Only 2 rupees.”
I sluggishly rubbed my eyes to see a scruffy little boy straight out of a Dickens novel, persistently knocking on my window. The three feet imp had a cheeky grin, and his overgrown mop fell lazily over his big brown eyes, that glinted with the wisdom of a boy beyond his tender years. His enthusiasm outshone his bedraggled state, as he eagerly waved a newspaper with a sales pitch that would have made any business graduate proud.
“No school today?” I quizzed him, handing over the loose change in my pocket.
“Nah,” he replied, tightly grasping the coins in his blistered hands that hinted at the life he had lead. “The streets are my school. I get by on my wits, only wish I could read the papers I sell.”
As the red light turned green I watched his fading figure waving emphatically at me. Here I was about to enter the gates of my privileged school, where I moaned about the mundane in my pampered existence. And here was this little entrepreneur, risking his life as he veered through the reckless traffic, through the pounding monsoons, bitter cold and relentless heat. And yet, instead of sympathy he garnered an instant likeability.
Raju became my friend and I looked forward to our daily anecdote exchanges. Worlds apart it was our similarities that drew us together; our unbridled passion for life, our shared love for the movie star ShahRukh, and our dreams.
Years passed and one day Raju never showed up, though I looked out for him daily. I never did find out what happened to him. Raju taught me to see my daily commute with new eyes, and each journey as my first. I noticed beauty and details in the mundane and learned to dance and laugh in the rain.
On the cusp of adulthood with the optimism of youth, I believe Raju and I will fulfill our dreams. We will both make it in this mixed up crazy world. Life is like a potholed journey; I have begun to smooth them out by mentoring the Rajus of the world. There are no dress rehearsals, this is opening night and I am going to give it my all, knowing it is my journey and not the destination that counts.
Am I there yet? Not yet, but I am on my way. My journey has just begun…I hope to see you there.

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