Win cash rewards worth Rs.45,000. Participate in "A Writing Contest with a TWIST".
Win cash rewards worth Rs.45,000. Participate in "A Writing Contest with a TWIST".

meennaakshi Singh

Children Stories Drama


5.0  

meennaakshi Singh

Children Stories Drama


Smart Season of Love

Smart Season of Love

8 mins 156 8 mins 156

It is a phone but I can’t see any keys like mine, “how will you work on it and it might cost us a fortune”, said Dhaari. She toyed around with an android that her son Uttam was showing her. Uttam had asked his friend Pulkit to come home to show his mother the new device.

For Dhaari it was a luxury amount of four thousand rupees. She and her son had been washing cars in the locality for around two hours before he went to school. She would then go to household chores in the locality.

He was quite a sensible boy but the lure of ever-changing societal dynamics had caught him up too. He washed around eight cars but he gave money for seven to his mother he would hitch a cycle ride and save rupees four per day that Dhaari gave him as the fare.


“You will fall sick someday”, she would say but Uttam was bent on achieving his dream to own a smartphone one day.

She could not understand its usage except that she would constantly receive one reply, “matai when we will have this phone the world will shrink into our clasp. Then we can connect with people and also know about them”.

“But why we need the world son, it is my children and me and aren’t we happy”. Dhaari would propose.

 “Moreover this new assignment of mine the old lady of the house is very happy with my work and she said that she would sponsor Mithi’s education so I will have more funds for your tuitions, you should just study hard”. Mithi was six years younger to Uttam.


“Matai, I will not let you down, it’s my promise but please allow me to buy this phone.” Uttar pleaded.

Dhaari was a worried lot she would often discuss the usage and doings of the smartphone with the lady of the house as she spilled her apprehensions of the money being spent.

The old lady was educated, progressive with her thoughts and convinced Dhaari that she need not worry herself sick for such an issue moreover she taught her how to use one so that she could sort of be at par with her son when the object of all attention would come home. Dhaari gradually started surface tenacity of ‘no worries’ but in solitude wondered what would be the days when that object would finally find a place in her home. Through her children's performances, she was consoled that they were doing well. The landlady advised Dhaari not to always restrict them unreasonably.


Dhaari had come all the way from Uttarakhand after her home was washed away in the floods and her husband remained untraceable till date as he was with the some bus ferrying passengers to Kedarnath. He had been a very painstaking son to his parents and doting father. They had nice house, livestock, small orchard and some land. There weren’t too many demands in life and it was a neatly settled life but God’s ways he knows better.

She wasn’t hopeless till date. On the sly, she applied vermillion and never removed her two red bangles and scared yellow beaded thread that the married women of her village wore. She would often bury into sobs into her tattered pillow but never showed it to her children. Her son could actually read into her eyes.


Though she was simpleton but very neat, courteous, punctual and very quick in picking up the working of households in the city where a very distant village lady helped her get odd jobs.

She had quite soon graduated from domestic help doing multiple houses to a governess of the house and was earning far better than her peers in the city. It also paved the way for a single room in the outhouse with paid water and electricity. Probably this spirit of learning and doing her job well had transcended into her children also.


A fine winter afternoon, Uttam walked with pride on his face, as he showed his mother a brand new phone which was so colourful and the display area according to Dhaari was like a mini television.

The three of them exulted around the newcomer and spent more than one-fourth of their sleep time in getting familiar with how all it would make their lives more colourful. A new handkerchief was taken out of the weather-beaten trunk so that it could be properly wrapped and dusted before and after use.


Uttam started working on his new gadget late in the nights after finishing his homework and then would Google information on the Uttarakhand floods and the measures that the Government there was taking to rehabilitate the displaced. He took the help of his computer teacher and Physics teacher to learn how to get reach out to maximum audiences. In six months he was blogging regularly and he would narrate each blog to his mother for she gave him vital inputs. Soon his blog started getting a very good response and those posted comments were people in the domain of good work. He created a page for displaced people and all through his phone archived some old photographs of his village and posted them waiting for the right people to connect with him.


Meanwhile, some local NGO came to their school and introduced photography and drama to these children as a year-long course. Uttam enrolled for photography and he soon was very close to the teacher who was amazed to see his page and blog. He initiated and arranged for a computer for him in the school. The Principal appreciated his efforts and asked him to create a photographic collage for the school before the inspection team came. The word spread soon and Uttam’s passion also doubled up. But time was always running out. His exams were barely had a quarter to spare now.

It almost a year and his skills in photography had considerably improved. One day the people from NGO informed him about a photographic exhibition and wanted him to participate but the expenses were high. He could not afford the amount, his teachers assured him that they would take care of his expenses but he should just try for best shots.


Uttam felt his pulse steeping and chose to give it a try. The big day came and the town hall was full of works by children like him. The chief guest was the city Mayor and he judged the best works. Uttam was not only amongst the winners but had made headlines for sweeping away with most awards. His story was covered by numerous papers and he was catapulted into a little hero.


His mother was ecstatic but Uttam searched for something more. After all the humdrum had slowly weakened he got down to serious studies and took a promise from his mother that she would take them back to Uttarakhand for at least a week, they would stay with some distant relative but they would go.


Meanwhile this displaced hero of Uttarakhand and his page and his photographs had caught attention of some people in Geological Institute in Dehra Du, who was not able to trace the exact geography of the village as the floods had completely changed the locations. They, in turn, had got in touch with some more relief providing bodies and lists of missing persons were scanned to ascertain Uttam’s claim and its authenticity.


All core subject exams were over he had done well as he felt satisfied after the exam, now only one practical remained. He was just preparing for the travel a day after as his mother was overworking to make the owners comfortable with a temporary arrangement in her absence. Mithi his sister was busy stacking away the kitchen condiments to keep out ants. They could wreak havoc within a week. The door was ajar and the thick curtain fluttered in the sultry breeze.

Mother came in she was very tired and she dropped into a chair. It was hot and sultry more because they all felt the weather beating the spirit within. “Uttam, I know you miss your home but won’t it make you sadder to find nothing there, said Dhaari.”

It would surely bring back sad memories but I want to go once. I want to search…… there was knock on the door before he could finish.


“Who could it be,” said a worried Dhaari, trying to get up. “You don’t get up I’ll see, “said Uttam and paced up to the door.” His voice was loud but not coherent and he was addressing someone cheerfully and seemed to be pleased.


Dhaari thought it to be some of his friends and asked Mithu to make a cup of tea for her.

Uttam barged in. “Matai, Matai, everything is changed the season has changed, you don’t hide your vermillion anymore… she looked aghast and went pale. “how do you know… “, but before she could finish. Uttam led in people from local NGOs of Dehradun and they brought with them a weak frail man. Yes! Dhaari’s husband and her children’s father.


Uttam stood there holding the hand of his father ……..in front of her….

 Dhaari broke down holding her husband and Uttam stood there holding back his tears, ready with the smartphone to click and update the world that it was spring in his single room tenement. The page, the blog, the pictures had changed the world for him. The smartphone had changed their fortunes.


He had not been cared for had been homeless as he was swept in a turbulent brook and for three days was in the cold and rain.

He did not remember anything for about a month after having been rescued. Once he recollected he left to search for his family but nature had completely changed the topography. At times he was begging, at times he was chased away but his quest was always on. Till he landed in a village where some locals who were painstakingly putting pieces together for the tourists and local people who had perished or were untraceable.



Rate this content
Log in