by Parag Chitale
When I was young there lived a happy family. A young family of four—Mom, Dad and their two kids. The sister with her dimple chin was just a wee baby and her brother was still young enough to be not allowed to cross the main road on his own. This curious boy with bright-blue eyes who loved the colour red would spend his free time staring at the road from his window, counting passing cars. Once he counted twenty red cars in just ten minutes and that happy surprise had made his smile a little wider. He loved the pacing stripes of those fast colours that’d run on the road. He didn’t know why and where all those people were rushing to but he wasn’t bothered by that. He loved watching them go. He wished to be one of them one day, just like his father. His father was the best person he knew. He was tall, strong and was allowed to go anywhere he wanted. On Sundays, his dad would take him to the market across the road and they’d buy nice red tomatoes. He thoroughly enjoyed their special trips. On these short shopping adventures he would hold his dad’s hand and he would hold it tight. The colourful streaks he used to see from the window would scare him a little by seeming to turn into real things. This boy always wanted to go shopping on his own but he was told that he was too young and that when he’d grow up to be a big-boy, he could go. That always made him feel a little odd; you see, he was sure that he was ready. He so longed to actually grow up and go buy red tomatoes that he loved the most, on his own.
And then one day, it all changed. He was asked to go and get some veggies! He couldn’t believe his ears. He asked again if they meant from the kitchen but Mom smiled and gave him a fifty-rupee note. The two blue eyes kept looking at the note, mesmerized. This was really happening. He was going shopping. He surely was his happiest. So the whole sequence was going to be like this––he would to go to the shop and tell the uncle to give him 250 grams of tomatoes, some green chillies and some coriander. He would give the fifty-rupee note and get thirty rupees back––simple. And the best part was the fact that he was going there alone, like a big boy. He ran to his room with the note in his hand and a wild wind in his heart. He climbed into the cupboard and found his favourite shirt. It was a gift from his grandma and he loved the red collar on that clean white shirt. He neatly tucked his shirt in while repeating the sequence at least a hundred times to himself: ‘Go there, ask for tomatoes, give him the note, get the tomatoes, get the money and come back.’ He couldn’t stop smiling. This was going to be the best buy of his life, he knew it for sure.
He came out in the living room and got the grocery bag from his dad’s hand. He had a completely different kind of a feeling. Something he had never felt before—he guessed he was proud! He looked up to his dad, beaming. Mom reminded him to not forget the chillies and the coriander. He said, ‘I’ll get it, bye now,’ in a big-boy voice hiding that little shaky nervous shade behind his smile. For a fraction of a second he felt like asking his dad to come with him but then that’d mean that he was not really a big boy. No. He decided to be the brave boy he thought he knew he was and walked out of the door. Coming down the stairs, with each step, he could feel his heart started beating faster. He couldn’t figure out if it was the excitement of adventure or nervousness about going alone; whatever it was, it was all new to him and frankly it did not feel all that great. He came to the main gate and he stopped. He stood there for a long minute. He kept looking at the road. Suddenly, all the fears came darting towards him. The colourful cars on the road felt like giants, the bike riders looked like the evil sorcerers from his storybooks. Out of the blue, the sun went down and everything became gloomy. The shop was just across the road but it felt too far to reach. He tried to remember the sequence but he couldn’t remember anything at all. His tummy started making noises. He thought he had failed himself. He thought he was not the brave boy he thought he was. His nerves took over and, almost ready to cry, he looked towards his window. Every day, from that window, he’d say bye to his dad going to his office. He desperately wanted his dad to be there but the window was empty. He felt sad, alone and helpless. He didn’t know how he was going to get the tomatoes if he couldn’t even cross the road! Could he go back and accept his defeat? He stood silent, shaking, not knowing what to do. He felt something move behind him. The startled little kid turned his head and lost all his control over his tears. A tall man was slowly walking in his direction. The small teary-eyed-white-shirt boy with a red collar quickly turned around and ran and hugged the familiar blue jeans. Dad knelt down, held him in his arms and patted his back. The little big-boy cried a little and it felt good. Still sniffling, he looked at his dad. Dad smiled and, wiping the tears off his warm cheeks, asked the boy in a polite voice, ‘Excuse me, I need to go to the store. Will you please help me cross the road?’ With a shimmer in his eyes, the brave little chap smiled back, straightened his crumpled collar, got up and helped his dad get some tomatoes.
Today, after almost thirty years, I saw a little-yellow-dress cross the road with a bag of potatoes. As she reached the main gate, she ran and hugged my teary-eyed-white-shirt with a red collar. This is the best buy of my life, I know this for sure.
This story was written by our fantastic designer, Parag Chitale. We hosted a Short Story Challenge to celebrate International Literacy Day in office and his is the entry that won!
