Deepavali

It's never a nice feeling to be kicked by everyone but am sort of used to it. 

I looked around once and then walked off towards the country bar. Once in, I ordered a GM quarter with lemon and sat down on a rickety bench. I pulled out my pouch from inside of my pants and spilled out my today's earnings on the table, under the lone moth infested bulb over my head, which was trying halfheartedly to illuminate the miserable gloom of the den of vices, I counted. 

I was lucky. ₹475? In my euphoria, I smiled toothlessly to the blind drunk sitting opposite me and said, "Shubh Deepavali!"

He cursed his wife and toppled over. I laughed and squeezed my lemon in my glass, followed by the bitter alcohol. I emptied the entire glass at a go. 

I've always believed that those so-called wine connoisseurs are simply a collective huge bag of wind, who claim to open taste buds and to allow the wine to breathe. My friends, I've spent my 44 years in this world and have seen your own brethren trying to stop human beings from breathing and here we have a specialist, who's talking about breathing wines! All are loony I think! 

I stood difficultly. No. Thank you for your concern, O reader, but am neither drunk nor hurt. It's just my character. One cannot be an expert actor unless one doesn't enact the role. I'm a lame beggar, who can run faster than you, but if I tell you the truth will you drop a ₹10 note in my bowl? 

I limped out on my crutches and went to my beloved footpath, which is better than your master bedroom. Can you wake up at three am, look up and see the canopy of stars with that silly Opal Moon trying to flirt with them? 

I was surprised. My usual place was occupied by a 9-year-old girl, who was leaning at something I couldn't see. I stomped my crutches and coughed violently. Nothing subtle for yours truly. She was startled and looked around. She smiled like a million moons and asked, "Oh, Great Evening, sir! Do you have a matchbox?"

I turned around cautiously to see many kids lighting crackers afar. I've always hated kids all my life. They are the vermin! They were creating a cacophony, which is an abomination in itself and polluting the atmosphere to boot! I turned back at my little inquisitor and asked, "Why do you want a matchbox, girl?"

She pulled out her tiny fists and presented a collection of crackers. "Want to burst them." She declared happily. "I won't use all of your boxes, I promise. Please, sir!"

I swear! In my entire 44 years, no one has ever considered me a living thing. I've always been an abomination. A blot on society and culture. I have been hounded by people and police alike. Now here was a nymph, who was not only acknowledging me but even accorded me a knighthood! My dead eyes were wet and I sat down. "Yes. I do have. All you can use. But, don't you think that they are dangerous? Aren't you afraid of burning yourself?"

"My dad says that life is more dangerous than snakes, whatever he means." she replied with an inherent gravity, and suddenly was apprehensive, "I'm scared of the red ones because they go with a bang. Can you please help?"

I immediately threw away my crutches and picked those crackers up. Anything to oblige Her Royal Highness, who bestowed a knighthood on me! I ran around to the corner and bought an assortment of fireworks. 

When the police van arrived, the inspector saw a middle-aged beggar jumping around with a 9-year-old child, while shooting rockets. Two constables jumped out before the van screeched to a halt and grabbed me. 

One peered at my face and called out, "Saheb, this is that guy who lacked his right leg." again smiling at me toothily, while whacking his stick at my buttock, He exclaimed, "Diwali suits you, sale bhikhari! You suddenly got a new leg!"

I looked around at the weeping girl and waved her goodbye. I mouthed Shubh Deepavali to her and sat comfortably in the police van. Well aware that now I'll have to practice being blind. 

All professions have a professional hazard. Getting arrested is mine.