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| Muhammad Atik |
"Why are you late for work?" Madam asked Bimal in an irritable voice.
"I was knocked down by a cyclist and had to go home to change my clothes and apply Dettol to the bruises on my knees." Bimal pulled up his pants to show his bandaged knees stained with blood.
"Okay...go run and get the jalebis. The kids are waiting for breakfast," was her indifferent response.
Bimal made a quick exit to visit the sweetmeat shop selling freshly made hot jalebis, a favorite breakfast with the Guptas, washed down with glasses of hot milk.
Ramlal's shop quickly ran out of jalebis due to high demand. Bimal was a regular, and noticing he had not arrived at his usual time, Ramlal kept his portion out of the customers' sight to avoid any unforeseen problems.
When Bimal arrived, there were other customers in the queue. Ramlal noticed him at the end of the line and raised his eyebrows as if to ask why he was late. As Bimal reached the counter, he was sure the supply would be exhausted, and he would have to face the ire of Mrs Gupta. Ramlal saved his day, handing over the oil-stained brown paper packet from under the counter, whispering to him, 'I have kept the normal quantity and added a few extras for you. Enjoy. And consume them before reaching home."
Ramlal saw in this fourteen-year-old lad his son, whom he had lost a decade ago. A victim of dengue fever. He knew Bimal had to work for a living and, from his appearance, guessed he was not treated well by the Gupta household.
Putting the jalebis on a plate, Bimal set them on the dining table, setting aside the extra four pieces for himself. The overnight dishes needed his attention first. Otherwise, he would be in trouble. Mrs Gupta was always picking on him for the slightest aberration. Just when he was about to bite into the juicy, sweet, the mistress walked into the kitchen and exclaimed, "You thief! How ungrateful of you. We employed you as our domestic help because our driver vouched for you, saying you came from a good family with no bad habits. Pack your belongings and don’t even think of coming back. The security guard at the gate has instructions to hand you over to the police if you even attempt."
Bimal wasn't even given a chance to explain as Madam stormed out of the kitchen to tell her husband and children of the incident. Shame-faced, Bimal let himself out and walked aimlessly on the streets, not having the courage to tell his father that he had lost his job. Ramlal came to his rescue when Bimal narrated the events leading up to his being thrown out of the Gupta home.
"Arre beta...you don't have to worry. I will employ you in my shop. That way, you will continue to earn money as well as learn how to make the best jalebis in this town." The relief on Bimal's face was visible.
There was a spring in his step despite the pain as he walked home to announce to his parents the new job that would fetch him more money.
For Ramlal, it was like having his dead son back!
Notes: Jalebi – an Indian sweet made of a coil of deep-fried batter that is soaked briefly in sugar syrup.
Arre beta – Oh, child.
Enjoy more posts by Snigdha Agrawal HERE.
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| Snigdha Agrawal |
Snigdha Agrawal (née Banerjee) holds an MBA in Marketing and has over two decades of corporate experience. She enjoys writing in all genres, including poetry, prose, short stories, and travel diaries. Educated in Loreto Institutions, run by the Irish Nuns, and brought up in a cosmopolitan environment, she has learned the best of the East and West. She is a published author of four books. Her works have appeared in several anthologies and e-journals, published in India and overseas. She has recently been nominated for the 2024 Pushcart Prize in poetry.
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