“Please do something, Dhanush. You can sell that land left by your father. Our daughter is dying!”
“I cannot sell it. I will not. If I lose my job someday, that land is the only hope I can look upon. I will arrange the money some other way.”
“Is that piece of land more important than our daughter?”
The little girl trembled on the worn out folding. Her body had turned blue due to the disease. It was swelling a little more everyday making her look like an alien to her friends due to the fluid retention in her lungs. A doctor told Meera and Dhanush how important it was for them to get this little girl’s lungs operated.
But where could they arrange the money from?
Dhanush and Meera belonged to a small, unrecognized village of Bihar. Their story is not very glamorous. Just another couple who left their village and migrated to a metropolitan, in order to earn a handsome job and an equally handsome salary.
Perhaps, the money was not enough and sleeves too high to migrate back.
“I will manage. I will arrange the money. Else, we have the gold chain your mother gifted to you on our marriage,” mumbled Dhanush and left for work.
He worked as a labour in a paper mill and was paid on monthly basis.
He worked to the best of his capability that day, making sure that he impresses his Sahab.
He met the Sahab towards the end of the day and pleaded for an advance payment which would help his daughter’s operation. He was much reluctant initially, but Dhanush succeeded in persuading him. Though, the Sahab could not really promise him the pay and asked Dhanush to come again the next day. He would have monitored the ‘profit income’ by then.
Dhanush touched his Sahab’s feet and left for home.
He was much relieved.
He knew things will settle soon.
He knew he could see his Meera smiling again. He missed her smile.
He knew he could see Ganga demanding for a ‘gudiya’ and fighting with her little brother again.
In order to save all what he could, he walked back home that day and refrained hiring a rickshaw like he did on the usual days.
He had also sacrificed his daily intake of whisky.
Meera had sacrificed her Bindi and Pinkoo, the younger brother, his plastic ball.
But, the sacrifices did not suffice.
The sacrifices are not bound to yield happiness.
Ganga had to leave.
“I cannot sell it. I will not. If I lose my job someday, that land is the only hope I can look upon. I will arrange the money some other way.”
“Is that piece of land more important than our daughter?”
The little girl trembled on the worn out folding. Her body had turned blue due to the disease. It was swelling a little more everyday making her look like an alien to her friends due to the fluid retention in her lungs. A doctor told Meera and Dhanush how important it was for them to get this little girl’s lungs operated.
But where could they arrange the money from?
Dhanush and Meera belonged to a small, unrecognized village of Bihar. Their story is not very glamorous. Just another couple who left their village and migrated to a metropolitan, in order to earn a handsome job and an equally handsome salary.
Perhaps, the money was not enough and sleeves too high to migrate back.
“I will manage. I will arrange the money. Else, we have the gold chain your mother gifted to you on our marriage,” mumbled Dhanush and left for work.
He worked as a labour in a paper mill and was paid on monthly basis.
He worked to the best of his capability that day, making sure that he impresses his Sahab.
He met the Sahab towards the end of the day and pleaded for an advance payment which would help his daughter’s operation. He was much reluctant initially, but Dhanush succeeded in persuading him. Though, the Sahab could not really promise him the pay and asked Dhanush to come again the next day. He would have monitored the ‘profit income’ by then.
Dhanush touched his Sahab’s feet and left for home.
He was much relieved.
He knew things will settle soon.
He knew he could see his Meera smiling again. He missed her smile.
He knew he could see Ganga demanding for a ‘gudiya’ and fighting with her little brother again.
In order to save all what he could, he walked back home that day and refrained hiring a rickshaw like he did on the usual days.
He had also sacrificed his daily intake of whisky.
Meera had sacrificed her Bindi and Pinkoo, the younger brother, his plastic ball.
But, the sacrifices did not suffice.
The sacrifices are not bound to yield happiness.
Ganga had to leave.
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