It was a warm sunny day when the boy decided to go to the fair. The whole village was celebrating the auspicious Naga Panchami. It was a decades-long tradition, which continued despite numerous disasters and floods. The nearby river was the provider and the destroyer as well. It irrigated the livelihoods of farmers and peasants all year, and in the monsoons, devastated their houses. People would start making idols of Lord Hanuman with clay from the river nearly two weeks before the fair.
Children often discussed how they saw a black cobra drinking milk under the banyan tree. The banyan tree had its legacy. There was a saying in the commoners that the day the banyan tree will be washed away in flood, the village will be doomed.
The beautiful day started with a gentle slap on the cheeks of the boy when his grandmother tried to awake him from a sound sleep. His eyes sparkled as he was waiting for this day from forever. After completing the day-to-day chores, he started imagining how he will do a quick recce of the village fair and then start the adventures. The plan was to try the Ferris wheel first which will at least cost ten rupees.
Raising money was a cumbersome task. The boy had developed a special technique for a situation like this. He would hide his right hand behind his back raising the index finger above his head in a funny manner like a gully cricket umpire. Like an experienced batsman, the grandmother would understand the indication that the child is demanding one rupee coin. However, the fair was demanding twenty rupees in total. The boy quickly improvised the indication technique and made a zero with the left hand in the same manner. After a little struggle, need not be discussed, he succeeded in applying for twenty rupees.
The old lady smiled and asked, “what will you do with this much money”? “Sweets and stuff”, the boy replied. He knew he wasn’t going to receive any money if he tells the truth about the wheel. The lady opened a knot which was tied at the end of her cotton saree and ten rupees in total emerged in various denominations of one- and two-rupee coins, drawing a smile on the boy's face.
He left home with the jingling sound of coins in his pocket.
Something was better than nothing. The expedition demanded more than this. There can't be any retrenchments in the fun. Something was to be done. “How to get more money?” was the ultimate question.
On the way to the fair, there were two or three wooden shops selling tobacco, chocolates and a few other edibles. Shops were nearly empty. One or two younglings were purchasing some gum. Suddenly an idea emerged in the mind of the boy. Since many days, he has been noticing colourful sachets of candy-coated cardamom and aniseed.
“How much does it costs?” The boy asked a lean figure behind the counter pointing his finger towards the colourful strip. The shopkeeper was also a boy not older than him. He was wearing a red trouser with patches on it with a yellow shirt definitely shorter than his size. His mother had died not more than four months ago because of a deadly snake bite. The shop was the only provider of bread and butter to him and his handicapped father. The father was a country liquor brewer, always lying on a charpoy uttering godly words.
“One rupee for each sachet!”, the provider replied. “The sachet contains a printed text behind each wrapper. You can win another sachet or 1 rupee or the 5-rupee coin, which is the top prize.”
The investment started. The plan was to earn some more money to sponsor the fair adventure.
However, the first three bids were unsuccessful. With an optimistic mind, the boy purchased another sachet. Some passing children stopped to see the gamble. To his extreme surprise, he won a one-rupee coin, but the happiness was short because in two minutes he realized he had lost two bucks. The fragrance and sweetness in the mouth were keeping his mind calm, therefore, he decided to continue.
In short terms, a wise kid can say the gamble was a complete disaster, but if you ask an old person, the boy at least got enough sweets to fill his belly.
On the crossroad, he sighed seeing the Ferris wheel, as his pockets were empty, and dragged his feet towards home.
“How was the fair?” Did you eat something? I hope you enjoyed the wheel ride!”, the grandmother bombarded questions on him.
“Huh! It was okay.” the boy replied. “Why do you have a gloomy face? Was there any problem, Babu?”, the concerned lady asked.
“No! Actually, I'm tired of all the chaos. I bought four Rasgullas. They were very tasty. The height of the wheel was as much as the banyan tree. I was able to see across the river clearly.” the boy improvised twitching his lips.
After a few clock chimes, the lady had a gut feeling that something was wrong. He was only gone for 30 minutes. Also, he was smelling like scented spices. She made a quick calculation and found that four Rasgullas would cost twenty rupees at least. Undoubtedly, the boy was lying. He must've lost the money. Throughout the day, she tried to make him confess about it. But the boy was rigid. The day passed, and so did the fair.
After many years, that boy is now a young man. The kind lady is no more. The village no longer organizes the fair. The banyan tree is somewhere in the river after being washed away a few years ago. With the mercy of God, the village survived. The boy never told the truth to anyone. But one day the idea of writing struck his mind and you are reading it.
I am sure my grandmother is smiling from the stars above. I have a feeling that she already knew the truth. She was trying to let me fight my own battles of ethical and moral dilemmas.
What a lovely story 💙. Pure nostalgia ride 💫