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K G HARIHARAN

Drama Others

4.6  

K G HARIHARAN

Drama Others

Javed

Javed

7 mins
835


The story began long, long ago. However, this forgotten story was revived upon receipt of a letter from the insurance company.

I was working as an advocate in a city but despite the best of efforts, my work was not shaping up well. It had become difficult to manage the day-to-day expenses. The cost of living in the city was also very high. There was no other source of income. Mother continued to be in poor health. Given his old age father was finding it difficult to manage his farming activities. Meanwhile, when I went to the village, I gathered that a letter had been received from the insurance company.

A letter from the insurance company? But I had never got any insurance done. Well upon opening the letter, I realized that the letter was indeed marked to my name and the manager of the insurance company had called me to his office regarding the payout of an insurance claim. I stayed awake the entire night wondering how it was possible to receive a payout without ever getting an insurance policy. My parents had also never taken any insurance. So whose insurance could this be for which the insurance company was calling me?

I reached the office of the insurance company on time. The manager of the insurance company informed me that my name had come up for settlement of an insurance policy.

"But whose insurance"? I asked with surprise.

What the manager told me after this filled me both with shock and surprise.

"This insurance was done by someone named Javed", the manager said.

"Javed ....? So is Javed dead? I asked nervously.

Yes, Javed died in Saudi Arabia, and his insurance policy for who a million rupees has you as his sole nominee. Therefore, you will receive one million rupees. You please submit your identification documents and bank account details here.

“But why me? Why did he make me a nominee?” I quizzed, very surprised.

 “I do not know that. But the fact is that the deceased had made you his nominee”.

He showed me the details of the nominee and it had my name and address mentioned in the document.

"Was he your relative"? The bank manager asked. But soon he realised my name and realised that he could not be my relative.

“Was he your friend?” the bank manager asked after that.

"Yes, he was my friend," I said.

I had called him my friend for the first time in my life.


His name was Javed. He was a resident of my own village. Although he was not my friend, I had no idea why he called me one. He had told everyone in the village that he was my very special friend. He even said that he had studied with me. I was studying and living in the city then. Since I hardly visited the village, people believed in his words. When I got to hear about this, I tried explaining to some people that he was not my friend and he had never studied with me, that he was lying. But no one seemed to be interested in my clarifications. On the contrary, like philosophers they advised me that if someone considered me a friend then there was nothing wrong in it. That having friends is a matter of great fortune.

How could I refute them? It is true that if someone considered you a friend, why you would have any objection. But I still could never figure out why he did this. I used to get very irritated about this.

He must have been at least four to five years older to me. I did not know where he studied or if he had even studied at all. Every time he met me, he would greet me with a "How are you, my friend? He used to shake hands very gently and talk with utmost respect”.

There were a few shops on the north side of the village. Whenever I went to visit the shops there, I found him standing by a paan shop. He always greeted me with a smile.

Each time we met, he talked about his unemployment. From his talk, I gathered that he was not looking for a government job only, rather he was ready to accept any job that came his way. He was also looking for an opening in Arab countries and had got his passport ready. His parents were illiterate. His father used to work as a laborer. But due to old age, he was unable to work on a regular basis. His parents’ old age worried Javed a lot.

Meanwhile, I had not gone to the village for several months. When I did go to the village, I found out that Javed had gone to Saudi Arabia. Let him go wherever he likes. I had nothing to do with him wherever he went. On the other hand, I felt happy that he had quit the village.

I submitted all the required documents to the insurance company and returned to the village. However, I was not comfortable after reaching the village. How did Javed die? Why did he make me a nominee? This state of dilemma and the disturbing thoughts drove me to investigate the media that Javed used to get to Saudi Arabia. Soon I got the address of the agency that he had used to go to Saudi Arabia. The agency reported that he had gone there to work as a supervisor in a construction company. One day while on the road, a vehicle hit him, causing his death. I went over to meet his aged parents. Their situation was pretty bad. There were no earning members in the family. They mentioned that they received information about Javed's death in a road accident but did not have enough money to get his body transported to his village.


After a few days, when I got back to the village again, I gathered that a cheque of ten lakh rupees had been received in my name.

I had to deposit the cheque to my bank account. The branch of the bank was about three kilometers from my village. I had no transport to get there. Therefore, I left my house on foot.

I reached the bank as soon as it opened and deposited the cheque. The manager said that the money would be credited to my bank account after clearance the following day.

I withdrew all the money the next day and returned to the village.

What should I do with so much money? This thought was plaguing my mind for several days. Should I give all the money to Javed's parents or should I retain them? Or should I give them part of the money and keep the rest? What will Javed's old parents do with so much money? Their life is short. This money will help me resolve my many problems in one go. I was in a real dilemma as to what to do. If I decided to give all the money to them, why was I going through so much hassle? My work was pending for several days. I was drowning myself in the deep whirlpool of turbulent thoughts. I could not figure out what I wanted to do.

There were fields on the way to the bank. It was the month of March. Pigeon pea(Arhar ) crop had grown in the field on both sides. The Arhar was ripe and ready for harvest. The wind was blowing heavily, causing the ripe pigeon pea plants to give out a sort of mysterious sound, as if many rattles were playing together.

There was no danger of theft or robbery in our area. For as long as I could remember, I had never heard of any such incident.

I walked in a relaxed manner, putting the money inside a bag. Summer had set in and given that it was afternoon, the road was very deserted. Suddenly I saw a man coming out of the fields.

“Who is this man”? I thought in my mind.” Is he a thief or a burglar?”

By then, he had come in front of me.

"How are you, my friend"? Saying this, he extended his hand for a handshake.

My eyes were wide open. It was Javed.

"Got the money"? He asked.

He was looking at me in the eye and smiling, just the same kind of smile I saw when we met earlier.

My voice was faltering. I was not in a position to speak anything.

“You?” That is all I could get out of my mouth. I do not know what happened after that.

The family members told me that someone in the village had found me in a state of unconsciousness. The members of my house brought me home. I regained consciousness only late in the evening. The money had gone missing. Nobody had a clue about what had happened to me.

The whole incident flashed before my eyes like the scenes of a movie.

So is Javed alive? This thought was creating a turmoil in my mind.

The very next morning, I ran towards Javed's house. I met his father at the doorstep of his house.

Tears of happiness rained from his eyes on seeing me.

Showing gratefulness, he greeted me with his folded hands "Thank you very much, son!" Because of you our old age will pass off easily now. Had you not been there, we don’t know what would have happened to us.

"Because of me! But what did I do?” I shrugged and asked.

“Yes son, only because of you, who else?”

You came and handed me ten lakh rupees yesterday afternoon. We will not forget your gratitude throughout our life.

He went inside the house and brought a bag. “Take this; we forgot to return your bag yesterday.”

It was the same bag that I had carried the money in from the bank.

“We heard that you were sick yesterday.

Take care of yourself. May Allah give you a long life.”


THE END


जावेद 

★★★★★ 

Drama

© Neeraj Neer

https://storymirror.com/read/story/hindi/6dknxe4f/jaaved/detail 

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