Twist Of Fate

Twist Of Fate

5 mins
302


Year 1992.

My age - 15 years.


In the scorching heat of Bombay's summer and ever-busy market lanes, I lay exhausted. It had been 8 hours since I had a decent meal, and by a decent meal, I meant one roti or a small piece of bread to suffice.


It was hard being an orphan beggar. I never saw my mother as she died giving birth to me and people said my father died before my birth in a police raid which took place in the local drug dealers hideout. I don't miss them. I have always lived with the boss of our lane in Dharavi- 'Dada'. Dada was rude and rough and raised me up only because I could be used as a beggar and a delivery boy for his illegal drugs and alcohol.


All day long I strolled the streets with a steel bowl begging for alms, just to give all the money to Dada as soon as I stepped inside the filthy hut leaving me penniless at the end of the day. My life was monotonous. Even though among all this, I never failed to be amazed by the huge buildings around me and how they touched the skies; Victoria Terminus station was a marvel of architecture and fascinated me the most.


"Ayeeee baju hattt bikhari!!" screamed a frustrated rickshaw driver. As he couldn't drive his vehicle on the road due to traffic and crowd he was going to use the footpath. 

I woke up instantly as the vehicle was speeding towards me. The autorickshaw knocked over my bowl of alms which I spent entire morning collecting.


I said nothing and slowly started collecting the money; along with my filthy hands, I saw another one picking the coins from the ground. The only difference was, those hands looked dust free and fair-skinned.


He smiled at me and gave me all the coins along with a 20rs note. I couldn't help but notice he had a drawing of a beautiful triangle like building on his hands. I was surprised that even arms could have pictures drawn on them. 

I couldn't control my curiosity and followed him trying to steal a glance at the building again but alas! I couldn't keep up with him in the crowd.


Luckily, he sat down for tea. I could finally see a little bit of that drawing.

I was desperate to have a better look thus gathering great amount​ of courage, I walked towards the kind stranger hoping he wouldn't push me away. 

He smiled again when he saw me.

"Tum phirse?? Kya chahiye tumhe?"

I pointed out to the drawing on his arms with my nervously shaking hand.

"Yeh? Issko tattoo bolte hai. Aur yeh Eiffel tower ka tattoo hai." He said stretching out his arm before me.


The Eiffel tower was fantastic. My tiny brain didn't even know there were different buildings in the world apart from long rectangular ones and Victoria Terminus. I wanted to see this building with my own eyes.

He stared at me curiously, and then gave me a wooden thing (which I later learned was called pencil) and a paper and requested me to draw the Eiffel Tower.


I was trembling with excitement and fear at the same time. Excitement because for the first time I was do something interesting and fear because what if it doesn't turn out well? 

I crissed and crossed and rubbed and moved my hands on that paper with that magical wooden tool. To my own astonishment, my Eiffel Tower looked equally beautiful to the tattoo.

The man seemed rather pleased and told me to come along with him. I obediently walked behind him with my prized possessions -my bowl and my Eiffel Tower sketch.


We entered another wonderful building. All the people inside seemed to have a paper and a pencil,some even had coloured bottles and were using a hair like tool(brush) on the paper. 

We went into a room which looked like the room for 'Dada' of that building. 

"Mein chahata hu aap iski maddat kare. Mein issko sponsor karna chahata hu." said the man who brought me inside. I never knew in my wildest dreams that this day was going to change my entire life!


Year 1998

My age - 21 years


It has been 6 years since that man had introduced me in this building. This building; I call home now. 

Sir JJ School of Architecture. 

My solace in a cruel and lifeless world. 


Looking at my Eiffel Tower drawing that day, the 'Dada' whom we met, lovingly asked me where did I learn to draw. I nervously smiled. He gave me more of those magical wooden things and papers and told me to draw some more buildings if I could and bring them to him the next day.

I distinctly remember the streets that day didn't feel hot or tortuous. They felt like a flower bed as I enthusiastically ran out with my legs stretching as long as they could. I sketched out every structure I had been admiring all the years especially the Victoria Terminus station.


I returned back in a few hours instead of the next day to the loving 'Dada' and eagerly showed him what I had done. He patted my head and told me to come back after 2days.

"Hamesha apne aap par bharosa karna. Tum mein jo hunar hai woh keemti hai." said the kind man with the tattoo while bidding me goodbye.


After two days when I returned back wondering what would happen next, I met many other 'Dadas'. They explained to me I was supposed to come everyday and they would teach me all about architecture- the art hidden inside my heart. The smile on my face never seemed to fade after that. Sadly I never saw that kind man again.


Year 2006

My age - 29 years


I am now a social worker and an architect rewarded with 2 awards which adorn my 1 BHK flat. I live satisfied with freedom from my past life. I learned so many things from my teachers who supported my talent and very always there to guide me. Life threw at me many troubles but I still kept going with his words echoing in my head. He made me cross the bridge from having no spirit to exist to cherish every single day I live. I cannot put in words how much I respect him and own everything to him and his kindness.


I thank him with all my heart for changing my life wherever he is in this world.


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