Fever

I wouldn’t have met him if I wouldn’t have missed my bus station. I overslept in the crowded bus and missed the station. Soon after the bus passed the station the bus conductor woke me up. Alas!!! I am nowhere; “you need to get out of this bus right now” bus conductor gave me an order which I was not expecting. I contended saying it’s not my fault. He made the bus stop with his powerful whistle. Bus stopped at whistle of conductor like an obedient child. Then he made a comment that I can’t ride this bus for free, and he has seen this tricks many times in his career. I was deeply insulted; I walked back to my bus station. Those days there was something or other written in every penny, every penny had something to do for me. I can’t change what is written on it. If I did I would have to walk all my way to my home. If I take a taxi to bus station I would not have enough money to buy ticket for the next bus I need to take. I walked under the blistering sun, cursing my bad luck.

I reached noisy bus station exhausted and soaked in sweat. I have started my journey last night and haven’t had a good meal by then. I felt miserable and less privileged than any of my friends in the college. I was thinking about my friend who always booked his ticket on A/C bus, I never traveled in air conditioned bus. I wasn’t jealous, I was sad though. I stood there brooding over the revilement that a conductor showed.

I wanted something to drink; sun really oozed every drop of fluid I had in my body.
I walked up to a small tea shop. I realized I am going to rewrite something which is already written on the coins I had in pocket. While I was having tea, I saw a little boy staring at me. When I looked back, he kept his head down. He carried a writing pad with some papers clipped on it. He wore a shabby shirt and shorts which is not to his size. He looked miserable and lean with his eyes sunk. I called him waving my hand, he looked scared. We walked slowly to me. I smiled and asked him what his name was. In fact I don’t really remember his name now. I will call him Irfan.

I have carried a writing pad and papers long time back. I knew what that meant. I did my primary schooling in a government funded institution. All we knew about in the school was scarcity, scarcity of books, pencils, food and sometimes even water. The best things I could think of in that school are teachers and a mango tree. There was this day when school kitchen fell on its knees crushing my friend to death. After moaning for one week, school reopened and started operation as if nothing happened. Though it left many parents in agony; that his child being in danger of old buildings which are waiting for a reason to fell down. By gods grace nothing worse happened there after bloody incident which took life of an innocent kid and my friend. During the exam season government would not supply schools funds to buy papers. Student would bring paper for the exams, which would be clipped to the writing pad. That’s how I know about the Irfans who carried writing board and papers clipped on it.

I asked him if I can see his question paper, he showed it to me.
“How was your exam?”
“It was OK”.
“Did you attend it well?”
“No”
“Why?”
“I don’t know anything”
I didn’t ask him anything more, for him like every other less privileged one would have a sad story. Story about his abandonment, misery, struggles and anxiety, I wasn’t prepared to hear that. Now that I have rewritten what was written on my coin all I can do is repeat it. I asked him whether I can get him something to eat or drink. He didn’t say yes, neither had he said no. I ordered something for him. As soon as he finished eating he ran away.

I realized I had to walk for some distance to get home; I didn’t have enough money for whole journey. Good thing that I am not thinking about the conductor, and I don’t feel insulted either. I was thinking about Irfans running around my state, deprived of childhood. That fever lasted for two to three days, I never thought about him again. I went back to college after a few days. There after no Irfans ran to me either.