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Dilemma
“Would he? Or won’t he?”
I stared silently.
Waiting.
----------------------------------------------------
The clock showed 7.55p.m.
Early to bed and early to rise was not my cup of tea. The 5 and something
temperature of this winter morn was ample reason for me to stay put. Missing
the office bus was hardly a reason. It costed me only 12 rupees and 20
minutes to reach the office. I went for another short spell.
“Bhaiya! Bhaiya!”
It was my maidservant
asking me to open the door.
Somehow, all the maidservants
in this world have the uncanny knack of using bhaiya as a shield to protect
them against unmarried bachelors like me. I am not a man of lose character.
Just that christening me bhaiya make them feel much safer. After all, Indians
are a religious lot. The married ones are too are referred to as, more
often than not, ‘Bhaiyas’. Long live the Bhaiya brethren.
“Bhaiya! Bhaiya!”
Unwillingly, I garnered
all the energy from my reserves and opened the door.
8.03a.m. I had still more
than 40 minutes at my disposal. If I ran, 8.43 was early and if I ambled
8.42 was late. Whatever be the case, I had over half an hour to decide.
The warm blankets still beckoned me. It was too enticing to resist. Off
I went.
Within 10 minutes, both
the rooms were cleaned up. I knew, more than her alacrity, it was my indifference
that resulted in this operation quick cleanup. But I was in no mood to
relent. She left and I continued to enjoy the short nap.
8.22 a.m. The paper arrived.
I am a hardcore newspaper
addict. Of all the things in this world, newspaper and cricket match are
the only things in this world that can wake me up. I started perusing.
60 lakhs looted. Two killed.
India loses to Newzealand. I did not want more.
Having a bath in this winter
was out of the question. Breakfast was in the office. The remaining banalities
were either skipped or hurried. I was ready by 8.40a.m. What a day! It
was after an eternity that I was ready before time. I thought of having
a quick celebration. The ladoos my mom had packed for me were ideal choice
for the occasion.
Celebration ended at 8.45
a.m. I made a dash for the bus stop, but just to see the bus passing by.
It was not the right time to crib or to regret. I took a rickshaw and headed
for the autostand. After 12 minutes, with 7rupees offloaded, I reached
there.
The first auto there saw
me in. Being one of the 13 odd passengers in an auto made for not more
than 4 persons, was an experience in itself. But then India is an overpopulated
country. Crowding is a way of life.
Purr! Purr! The auto started.
The first stop was hardly
a km away. A very poor couple disembarked. The lady was almost blind. Her
lean and emaciated husband was also handicapped. Their negligible clothing
in this chilly weather seemed hopelessly inadequate. Either, inadequate
for them meant something else or there was a subsidized winter available
for the poor, which I was not aware of.
“Babaji! Jaldi keejiye.”
It was the call of one of my co-passengers. They were getting irritated
seeing the old man meticulously count his one rupee coins.
One.. Two.. Three.. Four..
Five.. Six………….
The coins exchanged
hands. The auto driver was not too sure. He stared counting. I, sitting
in the front seat, joined the party.
One.. Two.. Three.. Four..
Five.. Six.. Seven……….
The seven coins were clearly
visible. Still, he counted it twice.
I was transfixed. Despite
my extrasensory perceptions, I could not prophesise his next step.
The six inches that separated
the eyes of the driver and mine was too short a measure to hide his ambivalence.
In the mean while, I started contemplating my role in this episode.
Did the driver expect the
people to return him the money in such situations? Obviously, not. So,
it was foolish of others to think he would do the same and lose this windfall
gain, albeit a solitary rupee.
I still wondered, Would
he or Wont he? I stared silently.
What would I have done in
similar situation? Return the coin. Was it that simple for me? Yes, I was
a conscientious person and embezzling someone else’s money was out of question.
Then how would I have explained
myself issuing a stapler and a copy from the office, only to give it to
my college bound brother?
“Oh that thing! It was just
a stapler and a copy. It wouldn’t have mattered to the company at all.”
I laughed at my ignorance. Stapler was worth more than a rupee at least.
I stared seeking better reasons.
Purr! Purr! It was the familiar
noise of the moving auto. His dilemma was over. The seven coins had been
pocketed.
My search for better reasons
to justify that episode had now become meaningless.