Only If - Sonu's Nest

Paro was restless since evening. She was well into the eighth month of pregnancy but could not stay away from her work as she could least afford to leave on loss of pay. Deo had stayed back at the site as some equipment was arriving that evening and he was responsible to receive and keep them securely before returning home. Paro kept glancing at the clock tower across the street and got more and more worried as time passed by and there was no sign of Deo. She felt very frail to cook and was quite anxious about everything that she decided to make do with the bhakri she had made in the morning. There was a little pickle in the bottle given by their landlady which could be scraped up and their dinner would be complete.

Earlier in the day, there was a tragic accident in a nearby site and she could see all that had happened as she was working on the twentieth floor of the building under construction. A boy barely in his teens, forced into joining the labor force to support his family and also pay for his own education, had slipped off the scaffolding which had given way at the joints. The fall was so severe that he had died on the spot and the developers wasted no time in muffling the cries of the parents by stuffing a few notes in their hands.

The scene kept haunting Paro. The building was almost complete and the boy was assisting his father in the final touches of painting the exterior. The apartments were to be handed over to the owners the next week and this mishap took place. Paro was also stunned that within minutes of the accident, everything was cleared and work resumed as if nothing had happened. She kept pacing to and fro waiting impatiently to seek solace in Deo’s arms. She only hoped that Deo would resist the tempting invitation of his colleagues to have a drink or two before returning home. She need not have worried because Deo was in no frame of mind to drink and as soon as he took delivery of the equipment and got it locked up securely, made his way home. Of course, on the way, he dropped in at the boy’s place to console the parents.

As he walked into the house, he knew what to expect. There was barely any furniture, and if there was any, it was in no state of use. Pots and pans were seen dotting the floor filled with the rainwater that made way through the dilapidated roof. Thankfully the rain had abated. From inside, a feeble moan could be heard of the grandmother who was attached to Sonu who had been ruthlessly snatched away from them that very afternoon. She kept grumbling why God had chosen to leave her behind and take Sonu away. Sonu’s mother sat stone-faced and pale, lost to the world, while her husband was flat after having visited the wine shop, to drown his sorrow. Sonu’s sister, about ten years old in pigtails was running here and there aimlessly, not knowing what to do. Deo was sure she must not have had any food and so handed over the laadi of pav he had got on the way. She quickly grabbed it from his hand and went inside to gorge it.

Deo could not digest any of this. He left and mustering some guts, made his way to the developer’s house. The builder for whom Deo and Paro worked, was developing the site where the accident had taken place. He was almost sure that the builder would be in his own world, having dismissed the afternoon’s event as a professional hazard, for which he had made adequate amends. Still, he was determined to voice his feelings and reached the gate of the palatial mansion.

On seeing the majestic building in front of him, he seemed to chicken out, but before he could decide whether he should enter or retreat, the watchful dog had caught a glimpse of him and had started barking endlessly. The security at the gate tried to control it but it fell silent only when the lady of the house stepped out from the sprawling lawns.

Gita memsahib held the dog and looked at Deo. For a moment, Deo was unsure if he really needed to talk to her, but there was no going back. “Memsahib,” he stammered. He was taken aback when she told him she knew why he had come there.

“Deo”, she said. Deo was surprised once again - how did she know his name! “Deo”, she continued, “aren’t you from Yeotmal? Do you remember the neem tree by the side of the lake next to the school? Can you recollect a girl with grime all over her face attending school with you?”

It all came back to Deo as if he was seeing a movie! He surely recalled a little girl in her class who had lost her parents, who was always bullied by other children, and who felt left out as she had no parents and lived on the kindness of neighbors. His own parents had taken a liking to her as they had no daughters and took good care of her. They would get her colorful clothes too, even rousing the jealousy in Deo, but she had the habit of keeping away good dresses and preferred to go about in shabby clothes. She believed in keeping her “best” for a better day.

Cutting the long story short, Deo had shifted out of Yeotmal into the rat race of Mumbai, but by sheer dint of hard work had found a decent job for himself. His parents refused to leave the village and their well-knit neighborhood but always kept in touch with Deo. They happily gave their consent to Deo marrying Paro and were always in constant touch with him. It never struck Deo to ask about Gita, but here she was before him!

Pleasantly surprised, he looked up at her in awe. Gita went on relating to him how she had met Vasan in the village who instantly took a liking to her and brought her to Mumbai, changing the entire phase of her life. Vasan was unlike the general breed of Real Estate Builders and Developers and with Gita as his life partner had silently and generously contributed to the society without any fanfare.

Deo was dumbfounded when he heard what she had to say next. She along with Vasan had already started building a very decent residential quarter for all the workers in their employ. Work was to be completed in another fortnight or so and the keys to the dwellings would be handed over to each and every permanent employee in their books. It was too good to be true!.. He could not thank Gita enough and as he was taking leave of her, Vasan came out into the garden and stood next to her. “Are you happy Deo? A few months back when Gita was visiting the site where you were working, she recognized you and talked at length about her orphaned life. I was not born into any wealthy family, but with my sincerity of purpose and dedication and with the support of my parents have been able to achieve all that I have today. It was time I started thinking of giving back to society and that was when both of us thought of building permanent homes for our staff. You may have thought that I was keen on suppressing today’s incident, but it is not so. It was very unfortunate that we lost Sonu in the way we did, but at the same time, it was something that had to happen – it was destined to happen. In my small way, I tried to compensate for his demise, but not everything can be valued with money. I can relate to the situation when I lost my only son in a road accident. Nothing stops for anything, life goes on. Anyway, you can tell your friends and colleagues that you will soon have a permanent roof above your heads and that the name of the building will be Sonu’s Nest”.

It took a while for Deo to digest everything. Almost prostrating before Gita and Vasan, he profusely thanked them and made his way home where Paro was restlessly waiting for him. He had to share this good news with her and also wish, “ONLY IF” there were more Gitas and Vasan's in the world.