Why me ??

It was cold.

The silent wind was sending shivers down my spine. Clutching my jacket close, I walked on towards the canteen.

“A hot plate of Maggi noodles with a packet of Bhujia, would be nice”, I thought and strode on.

The canteen I was heading to, was a make shift one, it was a temporarily arranged metallic shack. Still, it was well stocked with whatever we needed and I was not complaining.

“The “Product Mix” was perfect. The Reed’s store in the US should learn something from this guy here”, I thought, smiling wryly. I had just finished and was returning from my mid-term exam on Retail Management. The case was an interesting one and mine was a decent attempt.

I finally reached the shack and spotted the shopkeeper at the counter.

“Bhaiya, Maggi hei”, I asked. (Do you have maggi)

“Haan, hei hei”, he exclaimed flashing that ever friendly smile. (Yea, it’s there)

“Ek plate dedijiye”, I requested and entered the shack. (Give me one plate)

The shack was well lit and spacious. Strips and Strips of snacks hung on one side, a fridge and an ice cream cooler enjoyed the place of pride, next to the counter. The coolers were filled with Amul Kools, Real Fruit Juices and Pepsi’s Colas, all success stories in their own right. A couple of racks of biscuits and chocolates rounded out the entire fare.

The shack had two window like openings. One a large one, which was the counter where the order table was placed and the other a smaller one on the adjacent wall.

A small tea table and a few chairs, were placed in the center of the shack for seating. It was a nice cozy setting for an evening chat.

A small partition separated the seating area from the kitchen, where a couple of stoves dished out maggi, chai (tea), rotis and sandwiches.

The shop keeper was an amiable man and I guess stayed in the shop itself. The shop opened at about 9 in the morning and stayed open till 3-3:30 in the night. The shack had a roaring business. It was almost a monopoly, being the only shop in a 2 kilo meter radius, catering to one hundred and twenty three hungry souls.

I could hear the cutlery being disturbed, for preparing my maggi. I was the only one in the shack, at that time and I guessed the stove was being lit for the first time that evening.

Sitting there and pondering over my schedule for the next day, I waited.

A short while later, someone came in and placed a plate of steaming noodles in front of me.

In my hunger I did not notice the person and without thought I thanked him.

“Dhanyavad”, I whispered.

“Your Welcome”, came the curt reply, in English.

I still did not give much attention and dug in.

Maggi topped with Bhujia is one dish, I often wonder, why I had not known before. One could lose himself in that mixture of soft noodles and crispy Bhujia, and never wake up. Today, was no different. Totally oblivious to my surrounding, I ate.

I was done, almost as soon as I began, slurping down the last threads of the noodle. It felt good. I rocked back and sat comfortably, satisfied and happy with the fare on offer.

Smiling to myself, I looked around searching for a drink to complete the meal.

My gaze fell suddenly on a small figure, sitting a couple of chairs away from me, looking intently at a Rubik’s Cube. I was struck by the sight, it was a little kid. He had not been there, when I entered or when I started eating my noodles.

Dusky in complexion and with puny limbs, he was wearing an old pale greenish T-shirt and a pair of grey shorts. He must have been anything around 12 or 13 years old.

Innocently and intently looking at the cube.

He had dark hair and even darker eyes, a certain sadness emanated from them.

It was overwhelming. The sadness…

He suddenly looked my way and I involuntarily averted my gaze. I could not look.

I cautiously turned back to meet his gaze, afraid of those dark black eyes. Eyes that were penetrating deep into me and questioning…

It was not the first time I had seen such eyes. Many a time I had seen the same dark black eyes, emanating the same sadness and angst.

It was almost as if, he was questioning me, “Why Me??”

“What did you do to sit on the other side? What makes you special??”

Suddenly, I felt deeply uncomfortable. I could not linger there any longer. Thoughts started tumbling through my mind. Some uncomfortable questions were popping up.

I asked the shopkeeper to keep a record of the bill and left the shack in a hurry.

Pulling my hood over my head, I hastened back towards the hostels. A certain uncertainty in my gait. It was as if, I wanted to go as far away from that place as possible.

As, I was walking away, I heard the shopkeeper cry, “Chottu, Ek tea Banao”…

(Kid, make me a cup of tea)

Those eyes that saw me, still etched in my mind, I walked on, in the chilly winter night. As I neared the hostels, the tower lamps sprayed their light on me.

I spotted my shadow on the ground, a hooded black figure, hulking away hands in its pocket…

“Why me??”

I asked myself…