"Where are you going?" mother asked.
"Don't keep nagging him!" father intervened. "Where are you going?" he asked. The tone was different, the purpose different too.
Promptly, the boy came closer and said, "I need some money, babuji."
The man smiled indulgently. "How much?" He dug into the pocket and handed the boy two 1000 rupee notes. "Go," he ruffled his boy's hair.
"Tch, baba! Don't spoil the style," the 16-year-old boy complained.
He laughed indulgently. All that he was earning was for the boy.
"Can I take the car, baba? Just this once?"
His mother tried to say no, but father overrode her objections. "He drives well," he pointed out.
"Is that wise?" mother asked, only to be dismissed peremptorily. Shaking her head in dismay, she walked in to her room.
He followed her and said reasonably, "I am earning for him only, after all."
"But 2000 at this age? And the car?"
"When I was a kid, my father would count every pie he gave and count it again when I returned the change. I don't want to penny pinch. Are we going to take this money to the next world? It is all for this boy only."
Mother rolled her eyes. "You have to teach him the value of money too," she pointed out.
He pooh-poohed it. "Don't worry. He will. When he spends, he will understand the value automatically."
It was getting on to be midnight and the mother became uneasy. "Isn't it late? He has been gone five hours now."
"They must be at a theatre! Stop nagging," he said angrily. "There," he said as his cell rang. "That's him."
It was an unknown number. He became numb. It was a stranger. His son had met with an accident. Drunken driving.
His son wasn't taking all the money to the next world either.
"Don't keep nagging him!" father intervened. "Where are you going?" he asked. The tone was different, the purpose different too.
Promptly, the boy came closer and said, "I need some money, babuji."
The man smiled indulgently. "How much?" He dug into the pocket and handed the boy two 1000 rupee notes. "Go," he ruffled his boy's hair.
"Tch, baba! Don't spoil the style," the 16-year-old boy complained.
He laughed indulgently. All that he was earning was for the boy.
"Can I take the car, baba? Just this once?"
His mother tried to say no, but father overrode her objections. "He drives well," he pointed out.
"Is that wise?" mother asked, only to be dismissed peremptorily. Shaking her head in dismay, she walked in to her room.
He followed her and said reasonably, "I am earning for him only, after all."
"But 2000 at this age? And the car?"
"When I was a kid, my father would count every pie he gave and count it again when I returned the change. I don't want to penny pinch. Are we going to take this money to the next world? It is all for this boy only."
Mother rolled her eyes. "You have to teach him the value of money too," she pointed out.
He pooh-poohed it. "Don't worry. He will. When he spends, he will understand the value automatically."
It was getting on to be midnight and the mother became uneasy. "Isn't it late? He has been gone five hours now."
"They must be at a theatre! Stop nagging," he said angrily. "There," he said as his cell rang. "That's him."
It was an unknown number. He became numb. It was a stranger. His son had met with an accident. Drunken driving.
His son wasn't taking all the money to the next world either.
No comments:
Post a Comment