Abandoned, A Miracle

Kirtan woke up at the crack of dawn. He quickly washed his face and got to work on the farm. Didn’t do much, unlike his parents, because he was just seven and ‘not strong enough to handle crop work’ but he helped whenever he could. He cleaned the house and then went to clean the stables. While doing that he thought of the dream he had. He had been riding a cycle. A beautiful cycle with two jet black tires and sleek handles. The wind was in his hair as he sped down the road of his village. He hoped his parents would buy him one.

“What are you daydreaming about? I have called you twice for breakfast but you still have yet to answer,” said his mother. “Did you clean the stables?”

Kirtan realized, with a start, that he had come back home and had been staring into space. “Yes, Ma.”

She gave him roti and patted his head. “Such a hard-working boy. If you want to eat more, just ask. You have gotten thin doing god knows what.”

Kirtan looked down at his food guiltily. He knew that the money they got was barely enough to feed the three of them, despite all the time and effort they invested in their work. Yet his mother and father were more than willing to give up their portions of food just to feed him properly and keep him healthy, and here he was, ungrateful for all their sacrifices and greedy for more. He swallowed down the guilt with his roti and smiled up at his mom.

“Yes, ma.”

Kirtan had quite a few friends around his age that he would look forward to playing with after doing his chores. So after milking the cows and feeding the hens, he set off to meet them, a slight skip in his step.

Shota’s mother answered the door when he knocked. She was a dangerous woman and was said to always carry a chimta around with her lest somebody got on her bad side.

“What?” she snapped. Kirtan panicked and stood straighter.

“He was supposed to meet me- I came looking for- is Shota here?” he fumbled. Shota’s mom looked down at him with what he supposed was a glare. It was after a few minutes of tense silence that she spoke.

“He won’t be going to play today. Or anytime this week. He has scored so bad that even Pundit Ji didn’t know what to do with him. He will stay at home and study for this week. Don’t distract him.”

Her words were orders, like an iron fist. Unchangeable. The Law. Kirtan just nodded and stuttered his okay’s and thankyou’s till the door slammed in his face. He sighed in relief and disappointment and continued to Ranja’s house.

Thankfully, Ranja was the one to answer the door. He was a lanky, funny fellow. The person with the best sense of humour in his group. Unfortunately, he didn’t look all that well today. His eyes were droopy and his voice was rough when he spoke.

“Sorry Kirtan, I’ve come down with a cold. And so have Saurabh and Mahi. I don’t think we’ll be able to go out today.”

Kirtan felt sorry for them and secretly felt let down, but he didn’t let it show. He reassured his friend and told him to take care of himself before he left. He was at a loss of what to do. He thought about working some more and helping his parents, but he was starving and if he went home, his mother would only try to feed him the food from her plate. Usually, fooling around and having fun with his friends would take his mind off his stomach, but what was he to do when there was nothing to distract him from his hunger?

He saw something move from the corner of his eye and heard a crash. He looked up and around to find the source of the sound. Something had fallen.

He looked around cautiously, to see if anyone had dropped anything. It was mid-afternoon and there weren’t many people in the village. Most of the huts around him were shut and the bumpy roads were almost empty. He went to the bushes around a tree where he had heard the crash and looked around. Nothing. He looked about for some more time before he gave up. Maybe it had been his imagination. Maybe it was nothing particularly interesting or important. His hunger returned with full force. He was about to turn away when a glint caught his eye.

He shielded his face before he went to inspect it. It was a few feet behind the bushes. It was an old used cycle. Abandoned, old, rusty and nothing like what he had imagined, but still working. Still beautiful. It looked like a miracle.

A breath caught in his throat as Kirtan stared at the cycle in disbelief. He hesitantly went closer to it and felt it. The red paint had almost become brown and was came off on his hands along with dust, but it felt real. It was real. It was real!

The wind caught his hair and his legs burned with the effort of riding the cycle, but he flew down the bumpy roads of his village, his stomach quiet but for the excitement and adrenaline flaring up in there.