Those Rs 500

I believe in writing incidents which take place the real happenings in life. Everyday we meet a number of people, young, middle aged and old. Behind every face is hidden many facts which she/or he goes through in life.

Not every smiling face has a life over the moon.

This is a piece of writing which I would like to share with my readers. Many years back in September/October 86 due to some unavoidable circumstances my friend Nandini had been to her parents house to stay for a few months .Her children were then eleven and the other seven.

Nandine was a housewife. I will not write all but mostly men got wedded to bring a good looking servant at home. My friend was at the mercy of her husband for money. Nandini told me her husband had the responsibility of a big family and he had no time for his own family.

Whenever I met Nandini I used to find her facing the world with a brave smile, but sometimes when alone we used to chat underneath the guava tree she used to break down into sobs. Incidentally we are both History students and I used to be her mentor, I used to remind her “Do not let your tears roll down the cheeks, wipe them out, remember Napoleon what he had said, soldiers never cry” we are all soldiers in our everyday lives.

Yes she said braving the tears out “it is not for me, my children, they are growing up and I do not have the money to buy a chocolate for them”

I understood Nandini will never ask anyone in parents’ house for money. So and so days passed by and after a month I met Nandini again behind her smiling face she had a satisfaction look. She told me that her younger brother had put a 500-rupee-note in her bag. She further told me, perhaps he had read the storms which were going inside, and the fierce wind which was blowing behind her beautiful face, which seemed placid on the top but underneath the heat was melting the rocks.

Those five hundred she told me that she can never give them back. Even if today she has the world with her, she would not know the value of those 500.

They were like God’s gift, Heaven showering flowers, twinkling stars---------------------

A mother who could buy a chocolate for her children.

Minakshi Chakraborty