First Short Story

Hello,
Due to the encouragement extended by my friends(Thanks, Dhanesh.R & Suchitra.R), I have got the guts to post my first shot at writing short stories. This is 60% true, 10%pre-determined, 30%imagination. Let's see how far I appeal to my audience.

THE BREAD WINNER

It was another usual Sunday morning, and the sun was late dawning into the morning sky filled in with murky clouds dry from the unexpected rains the previous night. A morning walk does not usually find a way into my daily planner. But I had ran out of cigarettes for the day, and because there was a power failure, I found a nice excuse to walking out to buy a news paper. I walked across to the nearest news mart giving the newspapers displayed an once over.

Suddenly, without any warning , I heard this sound. Dum dum dum… and I turned to see two figures one of which was that of a woman and another was of a girl who should not be older than nine years. There was a baby placed next to where the woman was sitting. A corner of the street was changed into a make-shift bed and the baby was laid to sleep by the woman. The beads of perspiration on the baby’s bare torso were drying up due to the wind. The woman had restarted slamming the drum.
The girl went around and asked workers from near-by stores for help. She wasn’t seeking alms, something which was clearly evident from the tone in which she spoke to those men.
“Tara! Tara!” shouted the woman, and the girl ran to the direction in which the woman pointed to and brought with her one worker who raised two long rods and clamped them at a rough angle forming an X-in shape. He similarly fixed another pair of rods in the same way and connected the two X’s by a string. Now, I could realize what the set-up was for, but I found a male participant missing in the team of the two women. I had never seen a woman walk ropes at such a perilous height where the string was tied to the clamps and had thought that she was waiting for her husband or son who may walk in and climb-up the rods to the string.

I found that the woman slamming the drums didn’t have her left hand. The incomplete part of her hand was stretching out at an uncomfortable angle, something which should have probably led her to settle down with the drum. Now, to my surprise, I saw the 9-year old girl climbing her way up to the string. I found the girl balancing her way across the string with a consummate level of grace and ease, looking down casually at the on-lookers, not forgetting to balance the wooden stick on her hands. The drum sound was no great reproduction of any Bands I have heard, but it had made the little girl overcome the fear of clinging on to her dear life at such a perilous height. She was glistening like a star on top of the rope justifying her name. The small pieces of mirrors on her dress were shining in the morning sun casting luminous images across. Then, with a casual effort the girl descended the set-up.

Next, came one of the acts which could have been done only by a very agile person. A ring was produced, and the girl wore it on her neck as though it was a chain, moved the ring down her body releasing it her through her feet. The act was repeated thrice, the ring slightly bruising her ears as she squirmed her way out every time. The music was stopped and the girl held out an aluminium plate asking the onlookers for money. I could see her bending her face to the earth and looking up only when a sound of metals striking was heard. I saw her carefully avoiding the wine shop nearby staying away from the men with beer bottles around. What intelligence!

I wondered at the way she chose the people to seek alms. She never asked people who seemed to divert their looks at her sight. What great self respect! Most would have generally refused her for non-availability of coins saying “ No change” . Probably, she would have heard it many a time before. A few of the curious on-lookers gave her coins of various denominations.

There was a man running a bakery nearby. He had given the girl a full loaf of bread. He probably knew that the money might not directly suffice the girl’s hunger. Nearby, a boy clad in a red shirt and trousers was bugging his father on what was going on. The father simply neglected his questions and led his way out. This reminded me of a familiar scene a few years ago.

I was used to asking such questions to my father over dinner every night on why there were so much differences present in the society. My father would dismiss the discussion asking me to concentrate on studies. I had seen myself in the little kid. But, having read well, having got whatever I need for a decent life, having become quite a rich man in the society with a decent five figure salary, these thoughts seem to have lost place in my mind. When was that economic independence of helping the needy supposed to evolve? After 70? Most of the downtrodden would have either ceased to exist or would have probably turned into anti-social elements citing economic indifferences in their daily lives. We would then have only ourselves to blame. What economic independence did the man with the loaf of bread possess? Was he a millionaire? These thoughts ran through my mind.

“Bhai Saab! “ the voice broke the air, and I found the girl stretching the plate to me. Without much thought, I handed the 20 rupee note I had brought to buy a case of cigarettes. The girl was surprised and said “Shukriya Bhai Saab!”. I could sense an enthusiastic sprint in her as she moved to the milk shop after placing the loaf of bread next to her sibling.

I stood there browsing the newspaper as I saw the two walking out my view. But suddenly, the girl returned running like a deer on a chase. There was panic in her eyes. I tried to figure out what was happening, and there was that scene.

A stray dog was trying to have a bite of the bread wrapped in the cover. The two would have probably missed it on their way out. With quite an amazing speed the girl maneuvered towards the package. It happened in a jiffy. Hands on the ground, feet up in the hair, it was a swift move by the girl, and the package was retrieved. The girl struck a stunning pose aiming a stone on the dog, and the dog had slowly found its way back. Then she tore a chunk of bread and tossed it up, slowly enough for the dog to grasp with its mouth. What generosity!

Back home, I was trying to get back to my daily chores when I heard the next door kid reading aloud,
“ Twinkle Twinkle little Star!
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high!
Like a diamond in the sky!

I felt the lines striking a reference to something which I saw sometime before. Yes, Tara was a star shining above high like a diamond and more important than most things, she was a bread winner.