THE GOD OF A LESSER CHILD

The bell for the last period on the last day of school before the Puja vacations rang aross the quadrangle of La Martiniere School for boys, Kolkata. In tandem, motley sounds rose across the quadrangle - of banging deks, scraping chairs and the chattering and occasional shouts of boys of all ages and sizes streaming out of their classes.

The customary excitment of the last day before the term break however eluded Prabir Ghosh, a student of the eighth grade. He tore at his collar in vain attempts to loosen his school tie and moodily kicked a stone across the field, causing the sparrows feeding in front of the school canteen to get aflutter. Prabir's face darkened at the thought of his friends animatedly discussing their travel plans to the exotic locales of Switzerland and the US, whilst he would have to rot in this hell hole of Kolkata. A sudden resignation of his father's superior in the multinational company where he worked, had put the proverbial spanner in their plans for an exotic holiday to Bali.

As a result, the family had lost much more than just the cost steep cancellation charges of business class air travel. They had lost their peace of mind. Prabir's mother Neela fretted at her lost fortune and hours in the gym to get back into shape and enable beachwear photographs which wouldn't be an eyesore. His sister Poornima had become a social pariah on Facebook and Twitter, miserable for the ridicule and barbs by her virtual friends. Prabir's poor father Sandip was getting the rough end of the stick at both ends- disapprobation from the family and unfinished workload of his departed senior.

With these dark thoughts clouding his mind, Prabir missed the beauty of the oblique October warm sun rays wafting playfully through the small plants in the garden in front of the main building. He was also oblivious to the shy glances of Nandini from the girls school, who liked him and secretly willed him to speak as she crossed him on the busy Rowdon Street which separates the girls' and the boys' schools .

The sudden screech of a black and yellow taxi as it narrowly missed him, broke Prabir's dark reverie. Momentarily he could not index the expletives of the cab driver. Then with a resigned sigh, he began searching for his car in the serpentine queues of vehicles bordering both sides of the narrow street.

Kashi, their driver of eight years had surrendered to the warm October sun and slept with his head resting on the open window, snoring gently. His son Kanhai, in contrast lolled against the car, keeping a vigil for Prabir. He had a mop of curly hair framing an innocent face and frayed clothes hiding a frail frame.Kanhai was twelve, a year younger to Prabir. He worshipped Prabir , was at his beck and call and waited for him at school every day.Kanhai lived off all the 'hand-me-downs'given by Prabir. Kanhai's adulation for Prabir was the single reason why Kashi had held on to this job this long, despite the abject treatment meted out by the Ghosh family and other lucrative opportunities in the city's nascent BPO inductry beckoning.

Kashi's wife Radha and daughter Kajol had stayed back in their village whilst father and son had come to the city to eke out a living. Kanhai delivered newspapers early in the morning and ran odd chores thereafter in a small tea shop to help his father. Kajol was of marriageable age and father and son toiled tirelessly in order to be able to save some capital. Over the last two weeks, unknown to the Ghosh family, Kashi had taken up the job of a night watchman for an apartment building and hence tried to catch up on lost sleep whenever he could.

Now Knhai was able to spot the forlorn figure amidst a sea of white uniforms and classic striped black and gold ties. As was his wont, he sprinted towards Prabir, dodging cars, cycles and pedestrians to reach his friend, panting, yet eyes shining bright. Seeing Kanhai run towards him was perhaps the only time of the day that Prabir felt wanted and his ennui ebbed somewhat. Along with his heavy schoolbag, he unloaded his cup of woes on Kanhai.

"Everyone is going abroad,"he lamented. "They will come back with great gifts, photographs and memories to show off. What will I have to show at the end of the Puja vacations?" he wailed.

Teetering under the weight of the schoolbag, Kanhai consoled him. "But think dada (elder brother) , you will get to visit the excellent pandals and enjoy all the excellent food stalls in in Mohammed Ali park , the lighting and decorations in College Square especially in the night as they reflect off the pool and the novel concepts in which the idols are created in Maddox Square!"

Prabir was stunned into silence. What has been a routine Puja parikrama (round up/ visit) for the family a couple of years back, when they were similarly 'stuck'in the city for Poornima's board examinations and had left no residue for him, had become treasured moments for Kanhai. The clouds of despair which had dispersed,descended on Prabir once again with the realisation that this year Kanhai would accompany Kashi to the village as prospective grooms would come to see Kajol. With a change in their travel plans, Neela had urged her husband to cancel Kashi's leave, but Prabir would have none of it. "How can you even say this mother? You know that if they do not go, Kajol's wedding may not get decided! Why can't we manage with temporary drivers?" Finally his parents had relented and the matter rested with with the dark foreboding by Neela,"A twelve year ruffian is ruling our lives through our son. If you don't do something soon...."

Later that evening, as the far off rumblings of drum beats and blowing of conch shell harbingered the arrival of clay idols of Goddess Durga at various city points, Prabir and Kanhai sat on the lawn sweating and panting after a game of football."Dada, can I get you something from the village?" ventured Kanhai, heartbroken to see his friend so sad."Fresh river fish? Sweetmeats? Liquid molasses?" he suggested.

A sudden sense of anger overwhelmed Prabir. Why should Kanhai be so happy and look forward to his village visit and his reunion with his mother and sister, when Prabir was so miserable? He decided to make a difficult request. Brushing himself he walked away and faced the setting sun, now a distant orb in the horizon."No Kanhai, nothing expensive. You'll need to save for Kajol. Will there be a nagordola (wooden ferris wheel) at the village fair?"

"Of course dada. There will be nagordola, a merry-go-round, circus clowns, bioscope and ...."

Prabir cut him short."You know the special bell that is attached to every seat of the nagordola? The ones that jingles in unison when the wheel spins? Can you get me one of those bells?" He turned around to face Kanhai.

Kanhai fell silent. He knew that the bells were considered auspicious by the nagordola owners. Folklore had it that the bells protected the ferris wheels from collapsing/ accidents and the owners would never part with one. He simply said, "I do not know dada, I will ask the owner for one..."

A fortnight later, one evening Prabir sat glum faced at home watching television. Despite all the glitter, the lights, sounds, fun, food and music, nothing seemed to have gone right. His designer jeans were a size short. It had rained one evening which had muddied his Gucci shoes. Poornima had chanced upon him smoking behind a Puja pandal

(temporary fabricated structure housing the puja event) and had squealed to mother. His father had severely restricted his diet during the pujas as he felt that it would adversely affect his chances for selection to the school swimming team. Prabir was miserable and angry. Yet he had no one to share his misery with. Kashi had sent word that Kanhai had fallen ill and their return would be delayed.

"This is why you should never give them leave!"Neela had screamed. "Ungrateful, undependable rascals!!"

As Prabir sat wallowing in his seemingly bottomless pit of grief, Sandip quietly walked into the room and switched off the television set. "Kashi has returned this afternoon,"he said.

Prabir was aghast. Dusk was fast approaching and Kanhai hadn't yet come running to see him?

Sandip took in the look on his son's face and explained,"Kashi said that Kanhai is still weak and recovering..."

Prabir stood up resolute."This is insubordination, father. If he was strong enough to have undertaken the journey back from his village, then he should have been strong enough to have come and met me.I will go and visit him right now. Do you know where they stay?"

Despite his parents'pleas, Prabir remained adamant. Reluctantly he was allowed to go accompanied by Bahadur, their watchman.

Reaching the shanties bordering the eastern fringe of the city, Prabir went from shack to shack asking for Kanhai oblivious to the sqalour, stench and the stares of the slum dwellers.Eventually he located a decrepit shack and hesitated briefly before knocking.

Kashi opened the door. Prabir stood shocked. Kashi looked as if he had aged ten years, haggard and unkempt. His eyes lit up on seeing Prabir before getting clouded with concern, "Everything okay Prabir beta (son)? Who have you come with? ". He was then relieved when he saw Bahadur.

"Who is it Baba?"Kanhai's voice came from within and broke the akward moment. Prabir strode past Kashi into a dirty room with a rickety bed on which lay Kashi covered by a torn blanket. His radiant face on the joy on seeing Prabir, belied his illness.

"Didn't I tell you Baba? I told you that Prabir would come to see me," asserted Kanhai.

Momentarily nonplussed Prabir sat gingerly at the foot of the bed."So how was Pujo? How is your mother and Kajol? What happened to you? How are you feeling now? Did the wedding get fixed?" Questions stumbed one upon the other from Prabir.

"They are well. No we did not like the prospective groom. There will be other suitors, Kajol has turned so pretty! We had a wonderful time. It rained and the ponds swelled up so that we could catch the fish with small nets and bare hands.I wore all the clothes you gave me. The other village boys were so envious! And the village fair, there were so many things to do....!!"Kanhai's voice trailed off seeing Prabir's expression.

Concern felt by Prabir had been replaced by a dull, suffused anger as he resented Kanhai's joy when compared to his own despair."Ah....the village fair. And where is the bell you were supposed to get for me?"

Kashi who was squatting on the floor quietly got up, rummaged through their meagre belongings and withdrew a brass bell, slightly dented and dull and blackened.

Later when Prabir had left, Kashi sat next to his son feeding him some bun and molasses. "Why didn't you tell Prabir?"he asked.

Kanhai removed the blanket and used his two hands to lift his heavily plastered right leg to a more comfortable position. The leg felt numb after the long period of immobility.

"Baba,"he said,"Dada wouldn't have been able to take the shock. Didn't you see how low he already was before we left? He must have been miserable when we were gone. How could I burden him more? How could I have explained that the only way I could have got his gift was to have stolen it in the dead of the night? It was my bad luck that I slipped and fractured my leg. I can only thank God that this accident was not more serious." Then his face darkened as he continued,"However with so much money being spent for my medical expenses, we couldn't meet the groom's monetary wants and this means that Kajol's wedding will need to get postponed. I feel so responsible."

Kanhai began sobbing uncontrollably. In between his tears he said,"Baba, please don't tell Sandip uncle and ask for money. I do not wish Prabir to know. I'll work doubly hard to recoup the spent money. And please do not leave this job for a better one yet. Prabir dada is angry now but he will come around. He will at some point grow out of this friendship and then you can leave?"

Kashi hugged his son and said,"I am proud to be your father. Do not fret.Take rest and grow strong. We will work something out."

As they settled for the night, Kanhai spoke in the darkness. "Will their grief be always bigger than ours, no matter how trivial it may seem?"Kashi thought for moment and then said," Since pain is a partner in poverty, suffering is an integral part of our being. To survive, we cannot allow it to overwhelm us. For them however, grief perhaps stems from non achievement of wants rather than needs. Suffering is not integral to their lives and hence they are unable to deal with it. What appears bigger is their reaction to grief rather than the grief itself."

A soft snore greeted Kashi. Kanhai was fast asleep.

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