Sultan

'Paalish!’ 'Paalish!’ Sultan shouted himself hoarse and beat his brush,'tap,tap,tap' on the shoeshine box. Little Sultan was among the ten odd shoeshine boys just outside the Sealdah station, (North Division). The station has been recently renovated under 'Swaach Bharat Avian'. Now everything was spotlessly clean in a once shabby annex surrounding the platforms. Trees have been planted and pictures of famous men adorned a high built up area to welcome foreign visitors and V.I.Ps. The area was cordoned off. Sultan wondered whether people from 'foreign' could come by trains. Ammi always said that 'gore log' came by plane. “Let them come and go whichever way they choose. What is it to him? A mere shoe-shine boy”, he thought.

Sultan was worried. After the 'swaach' program, urchins like him were not allowed inside the platform. The police 'dadas' said that they looked dirty with shabby shirts, unclean hair and gooey noses. No matter how sympathetic they were to these poor boys, they were afraid of being punished by the DRM. Earlier, when the boys sat just inside the main entrance, where the ticket collectors were on duty, so many 'babus' stopped for a couple of minutes to get their moccasins squeaky clean and shiny for office, before they whizzed past the collapsible gates. Sultan had even a few fixed customers who generously dropped more than the usual rate and ruffled his head fondly. Sultan knew their timings as the large electronic boards showed the names and timings of local trains in red. Sultan could read! Ammi had sent him for a couple of years to a free primary school near Khanna cinema. Now with this eviction he was forced to sit out near the pre-paid taxi stand. It was so bad being insulted by everyone, including the 'jhaarudaar' who treated him like dirt. His usual customers were gone. Who would go to the office everyday in a taxi?

Five other boys lined up with Sultan. The competition was fierce. It was tough luring customers to him. With the winter settled in the city, strong gusts of wind made him shiver. At home, Ammi was down with high fever. Sultan lived with his mother in a tarpaulin shed on the sidewalk of Beliaghata main road. His daily breakfast was roti and 'chai'. But today Ammi was too sick to make his tea. He covered her with a darned, musty quilt before coming away to the station. As he fought and nudged with Jahir and Chetan for the few customers who came by this way, he thought he had to earn a few rupees today. The local medicine shop would then give him 'golis' for Ammi.

After having waited for four long hours with not a penny in his pocket Sultan was frustrated. He was a gentle and a kind boy, not like others who used 'gaalis' and cut pockets to earn for themselves. Ammi said, Sultan was like his father, a good soul. But the boy had never seen his father. As long as he could remember he had only Ammi with himself. Abba, she said, had gone to Ajmer Sharif when he was an infant and had never returned. He sometimes laughed at his own name," 'Sultan', what an irony! A pauper who is known as king”. His eyes moistened, 'what if anything happens to Ammi?'

Sultan decided to try his luck, no matter what. He picked up his box and timidly walked up to a middle-aged policewoman he had known for a long time. She reminded him of Ammi. ' Baaji, please allow me to sit for a day in the V.I.P zone. Just for today. Ammi is very sick and there is no food at home ‘said Sultan. 'But there are CCTVs', 'How can I allow you?' she blurted. 'Please Baaji' Sultan's tone was earnest and desperate. 'Ok. Come with me’ she finally said. The policewoman whispered a few words to others and Sultan was allowed to sit only for half the day.

As the minister's car siren in, Sultan cowered in fear. The winds seemed to lash with greater fury on his frail body. In a minute there was a huge fiasco. People crowded around waiting to garland the 'mantri' who stepped of his car with a beaming smile and lifted his hands up in a 'namaskar'. People jostled to catch a glimpse of the 'big' man as the police struggled to push off the crowd. Sultan squatted and squirmed in his place, afraid of his fate if the minister saw him. He had thought if he were lucky enough, some kind 'foreigner' would come by his way. Who knew, instead it would be a minister. His bad luck!

Sultan peered through the waists and the feet of the crowd, trying to get a better view of the spectacle. Suddenly, he noticed a minute, red dot of light beeping through the lower end of one of the marigold garlands, which hung till the knees of a hefty man in safari suit. Without wasting a minute Sultan shouted, ‘Bomb! Bomb! Inside the garland'. There was in an instant, an absolute mayhem! The hefty man started running and flung the garland in the air. The cops caught him by his collar. Like in a cricket match, one of the black cats leapt midway in the air to catch it. The crowd was lathi-charged and the minister was rescued to safety. The bomb squad team arrived in a jiffy and was able to diffuse the bomb. All within seconds.

'Allah ka shukr hai" Sultan prayed and thanked the Almighty. But as he looked up, the cops had seized his box and he was taken to the railway police. The boy thought, the worst was coming and Ammi is at home with fever. He started crying inconsolably. When he met the minister, he laughed aloud and said 'Shabash Beta!''Well done child!’ When Sultan was asked 'what did he want?’ He did not waste his time to quip that he wanted to do his trade from inside the platform. The minister ordered his associates to immediately demarcate an area inside the platform for the shoeshine boys from the next day. But he mentioned that there would be strict surveillance.

Sultan was escorted home with honor and a bunch of fresh ten thousand rupee notes. The cops bought medicine for his ‘Ammi’.

Sultan shook his Ammi in excitement violently. 'Get up! See what I have got! Get up! Jaldi. Saria got up and was shocked to see his son with cops around. Sultan soon broke the news. Saria's fever seemed to vanish as she hugged her son in joy. The cops went away promising Sultan a place inside the platform the next day onwards. The son and mother duo beat the cold January evening by lighting a small fire on the roadside. They giggled and chatted and had their best dinner since the time Sultan's father had gone away.