Bangalore to Pune
Posted by Sahil, 31 Jan 2015
Bangalore to Pune and Pune to Bangalore, it was like a monthly affair for me. This time it was Bangalore to Pune. The KSRTC bus was standing at a Dhaba for morning breakfast.
I finished my breakfast and was just roaming around the bus watching other bus passengers. I observed that a boy aging 12-13 was looking at me. I realized that he was a local boy, and not any passenger. I called him.
He was not ready to come at first. Then I decided to go to him. He was standing near a tree.
“Do you want something to eat?” I asked him.
He nodded in NO.
It made me more curious, thinking what he wants?
“Do you want money?” I asked him again.
This time he said, “No!”
He showed me an essay book and a pen which he was hiding behind his back.
“Can you buy me a new refill for my pen?” he said.
I took out 10 Rupees from my wallet and gave him. But he refused to accept.
He said, “I don’t want money, buy me a refill from that shop”, pointing his hand towards a shop.
“My mother always tells me, not to take money for free from anyone. Every time I take money from someone, her life will be reduced by a day”
Hearing that left me staggered. A lot of questions were wandering in my head. I was confused being a human after listening him.
By giving 10 Rupees, I was happy; assuming myself a donor. Actually it was nothing when compared to that boy’s virtues.
It took some time; for me to come back to my senses. I asked him his name.
Manju pointed his hand towards the shop. I bought a refill for him. He was happy.
Still I had so many questions in my mind. I was just taking them out one after another.
He was studying in 7th standard government school. He was living on a farm. His parents were working on the same farm.
“Which essay you were writing?”
“My mother” Manju added one more answer.
I wanted to ask one more question, “Why you chose only me to ask for the refill?”
At the same time, I took his essay notebook in my hand and started reading his full name.
“There are so many people here.” I added this to my previous question.
He said, “You were the only one who had a pen in his pocket, I saw this when you came out of your bus”.
Manju was having good observation.
“What you want to be Manju, in your life?”
“Why? Who said this to you?”
Manju, “My teacher told me, if I do good study I will become a Police Officer.”
I liked his answer.
In my mind, I was giving a grand salute to that mother who taught this young boy to respect the money earned by one’s own hard work and also the teacher who gave the dream of being a Police Officer to a young mind.
The pen in my pocket was my favourite. I kept it in Manju’s pocket.
I did a handshake with a would-be IPS Officer of my country and wished him best luck.
My bus was about to start. I left the place. There was a brightness and confidence in Manju’s eyes when he was watching my bus leaving the place.
I was happy and feeling confident somewhere inside realizing my country’s future is in secure hands.
There are so many things we should learn from an uneducated mother of Manju, Manju's teacher and Manju himself.
You all are well educated and I will leave it with you, what good things you will take from these people.
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