Ravana from Holy cow entertainment.

Friends,
I did this artwork for a contest being organised by a leading Indian comics publishing house named "HOLY COW ENTERTAINMENT".

Funny! Isn't it ?

Funny! Is Isn’t It?

(Short story by Tadam)

I was sitting in "Ramesh Restaurant", a small eatery in our little town. I rarely go there actually. In fact, I rarely visit any restaurant in our town. That day, I went there after a gap of around four months.

The day was hot, as usually days are in summer. I went inside with the intention to have a chilled Coke. Now, some of you might ask, why do I write "chilled"? Everyone drinks Coke chilled only, isn’t it? You’ll say it’s senseless to add the word ‘chilled’ here. It’s true, and you aren’t entirely wrong. But it’s also true that we don't have regular electricity in our little town, and so the chances of getting a chilled Coke there are, at best, 50-50. Most people in our town don't care if whatever they get to drink is cool or hot. They drink it as they get it. Funny, isn't it? But well, that’s what happens in our town. And, I guess, in other remote places, too.

Okay, now let me come back to the story I was telling you—about my visit to “Ramesh Restaurant”. I went inside and sat down in one of the chairs that were scattered about. I was sweating heavily. People say I sweat too much. And I realised that they are right. I was totally drenched! I felt my throat going dry. I was really very thirsty.

I requested the man sitting at the counter for a Coke. There were no waiters there. Or, if the eatery employed waiters, perhaps they were in the kitchen. That’s why I asked the man at the counter for the Coke.

Waiting for my Coke, I looked up at the ceiling and suddenly realised that there was no electricity. The fans were all still. Now, how was I going to get the really chilled Coke that I was eagerly awaiting? I hoped there were some cold bottles left in the fridge!

Around five minutes after I gave my order, a bottle of Sprite was brought to my table. I was sitting with my eyes closed. I was trying to relax. Suddenly, I heard a meek voice saying, "Bhaiya, yeh aapka Sprite! (‘Elder brother, your Sprite!’)." I opened my eyes and was surprised to see a little boy—he must have been about 8 years old—wearing a T-shirt that stretched down till his knees and a half pant which seemed like a big dirty diaper, standing in front of me. He held a tray with a bottle of Sprite and an empty glass on it.

So, he was the waiter.

I watched the boy’s face for some moments till I realised that I had a Sprite to be drunk.

I touched the bottle. It was not cold. I requested the boy to take it back and bring a dozen bananas instead. I wondered as I saw his back receding into the kitchen, “How is this little child passing his days here? An oversized-T shirt and a dirty, over-small pair of shorts—that’s his uniform in his workplace. He’s just too young to slog like this! As a waiter, you have to be awake till the restaurant is open—which might be midnight! Imagine working like that at this age!”

I was studying in higher secondary school that year and had started to think about life, family, career and the conditions of the globe. That little kid had opened a new window of life's cruelty to me. I had parents who supported me, I had a life with no worries—except for my studies. I didn't have to think about earning money or about how to arrange for the next meal for my family and even for myself. But all of this that little boy probably had to think about. He had to earn money slogging away at what was probably a heavily underpaid job. If he didn't have parents, he had much more to worry about. He had many problems to fight with. His loneliness alone would be unbearable, I thought.

I put myself in the boy’s place and tried look into his world. My heart was suddenly filled with great respect for that thin, dark-skinned child.

I was so drowned in my thoughts that I didn't realise he had already come back—with the bananas I had requested for. "Bhaiya, kya yeh keley bhi thande chahiye? (‘Elder brother, do you want these bananas chilled, too?),  Ha! Ha! Ha!" he joked.

I was startled. He can giggle after all, despite having to slog like a serf! With all these problems he has to confront every day, he is brave enough to laugh! I don’t think I could have done that if I were in his place.

I took the bananas and gazed into his bright eyes with a smile. I asked him to sit with me. He didn't hesitate. He sat in the chair in front of me.

"Kya naam hai apka? (‘What is your name?’)” I asked.

"Rafiq Murtaza Hussain," he answered confidently.

I offered him six bananas. His face lit up even more.

"Why do you work here? Don't you go to school?" I questioned him, trying to sound as gentle as I could.

"I work here to earn, of course,” he answered. "My parents are too poor to send me to school."

His eyes lowered.

I guessed he must be sad that his parents couldn’t send him to school.

I asked him a few more, rather general, questions.

“How is life?” I asked. “Of course, I’m sure it isn’t easy. But is it very hard?”

Working as a waiter was tough work, he replied. Customers often came drunk and scolded him without any reason. Sometimes, they even spanked him. But he said the cook was very good and kind. He called him ‘Hariya Chacha’ (‘Uncle Hariya’).

My heart went out to the child. I wanted to help him. And so, I gave him a hundred rupees as a gift. I didn't have much more or else I would have given him a bigger sum.

He thanked me and said I was very nice. Then, he went to take care of the two customers who had just entered.

As I said, I felt really sad for the child. I really wished I could have done more for him. But I wasn’t that big a man who could build him a future. I was just a high school student.

I looked down. I saw that my share of the bananas was still on the table. I slowly ate the bananas. My eyes were still seeing Rafiq’s smiling face even though he had gone into the kitchen.

It took me nearly ten minutes to finish the bananas. Then, I stood up, paid the bill and started walking towards my home. It was getting dark. On the way, Rafiq was still on my mind.

Suddenly, I heard some voices from behind a tree.

"Eh, merey ko bhi ek kash marne dena! (Hey! Let me also have a puff!)”

"Abey! Ruk. Paisa kiska tha ? (Hey! Stop! Whose money was it?)"

"Abey! Pehley woh beer ki bottle khol! (Hey! First open that bottle of beer!)"

Funnily, the voices seemed like kids’! Kids talking like drunken adult men! I was driven by curiosity and went towards the tree to see who they were. I stood behind another tree, which was big enough to hide me. I looked towards where the voices were coming from. And oh!! To my shock, I saw Rafiq and three other boys, like him around 7-10 years of age, smoking and drinking! Rafiq was holding a beer bottle in his hand and sucking at a cigarette, letting out a long plume of smoke!

It was like being hit by a 1000-volt shock from a naked electric wire!

I stood transfixed, unable, for a while, to fathom what was happening. Then, in just a few seconds, all my tender thoughts about him and my respect for him vanished into thin air. And I secretly laughed to myself: "Funny, isn't it ?"

POEMS and PENCILS

POEMS and PENCILS

Scribblings by Tadam

Death

When it comes

No one knows.

It’s like Nature,

Unpredictable

But certain.

One who fears it

Doesn't know

That this isn't the end of life,

But the beginning of a new life,

Full of freshness.

‘Death gives us eternal peace’

The Greats say.

‘Death gives us great pain’

The common men say.

But what really death gives us is

A new chance

To regret the things we have

Done wrong.

And feel privileged for the good deeds

We have done.

To feel grateful to the Almighty

That He gave us a chance to live

As a human being.

Death is not contradictory to life.

It’s a new beginning

Of a new you and I and us.

Let's not fear it.

Enjoy it

As the final kindness of Life to us.

And that is certain.

I will be I

Someone says I think too much.

Someone says I talk too little.

Someone says I walk too slow.

Someone says I am useless.

I don't mind them saying that,

Because that’s how I am.

No matter, to change it how much I try,

I will be I.

Nature is unchangeable,

We are born to act as Nature wants.

That's why chalk is white

And fires give light.

Sayers will say,

Whisperers will whisper.

Teachers will teach

And flyers will fly,

And I?

I will be I.

Mirror Mystery

Mirror- mirror

Tell the truth,

Left is right and

Right is left

In you.

Why?

Do you show the truth

Or not?

Do you show the same

Or you do show the opposite?

The things you show are

So similar,

Yet fully contradict the real.

Are you truthful

Or do you display an illusion?