The Umbrella Seller

It was almost five in the evening; Veena had finished her quota of corrections for the day, 25 papers. These corrections really exhausted her. The July re-examination corrections were a real hassle. She had to go to a different college, centralised corrections it was called. She would painstakingly turn pages after pages of verbose confusion and find nothing meaningful. Out of the twenty five papers in each bundle only a few would make sense. It was frustrating!! She had to suffer this routine year after year. She was teaching Commerce for the eleventh and the twelfth grade, in a reputed college in the city. Twenty years in this profession and nothing had changed. The world had gone from landline telephones to mobiles, paying cash to PTMs, but the higher secondary education had stood still. Same content, same papers, same corrections, same confusion, same system. She was fed up! Today was only the second day and there were few more days to go.

While leaving the college she had a minor altercation with her supervisor, he had said,’’ What Madam, pass them, we are not giving marks from our pockets no!” Veena had enough of this nonchalant attitude, she retorted back, “Really Sir, we could have done that in the March exam only.” She did not wait there, she submitted her day’s quota of corrected papers to the clerk, made the entry in the register, took her acknowledgment receipt and she dashed out of the room. She crossed the lobby and waited for the lift, it didn’t come, she stood there for a few minutes pushing the buttons agitatedly…. it still didn’t come. Exasperated, Veena took the stairs four floors down. She thought to herself, “Good for me, sitting for five hours, this is good exercise!!” She reached the ground floor and walked towards the main gate, she looked up at the sky. It was dark, no it was only a little after five, black clouds were waiting to burst into rains! Veena was also waiting to burst!!. Hurriedly she came out of the gate. Negotiating the usual traffic, people and the mess on the road, she crossed to the other side. She would take a rickshaw home, no strength to wait for the bus. She hailed rickshaws, there were many, not one stopped. It was not her day today, Veena thought to herself. She waited disappointment and anger mounting. She called out, Anushakti! Vashi! Anywhere!! Not one rickshaw stopped!! “Damn these rickshaws NO! NO!! , I can’t explode here!.” Veena thought to herself. She was dying for a cup of tea. She took a deep breath and looked around, to her relief she spotted a tea stall round the corner. She went there and ordered double ‘kadak’ tea. She sipped the golden liquid leisurely, each sip calmed her frayed nerves, AH! That felt good , she thought. She finished her tea, paid the vendor and was about to turn, she felt something cold touch her arm, instinctively she recoiled, she turned back, no one there, she looked down, she stared into the eyes of a young boy, barely 10 or 11 years or perhaps a little more in an over sized , stained in places shirt. He was holding many umbrellas, they were big, those English kind. The umbrellas were as tall as him!

“Aunty, buy one no,” the boy said showing one umbrella. Veena was taken aback by his audacity. “What!!”, she almost shouted rudely. The boy was unperturbed and continued. “Aunty take one umbrella, see it is going to rain heavily very soon.” He showed a huge brown and beige checked umbrella to Veena and added, “This will suit you ,Aunty”, and smiled.

By now, Veena’s anger and irritation had subsided. Was it the tea or this boy, she couldn’t decide. This boy had a bright smile on his face all throughout. “Aunty, buy one no, he coaxed her. Veena couldn’t help but ask, “How much?” Still flashing that enigmatic smile he said, “two fifty rupees only.” “What! No!” Veena replied. Two fifty, Aunty, see how big it is.”No, I don’t want.” Veena never bought things from these street and traffic signal child vendors. She felt sad for these young children, but strongly felt, it’s not right to encourage this surrogate begging. “Aunty buy no, please!!, the boy implored.

Veena thought for a moment and said, “Ok I will give, one fifty.”

“Arre Aunty, that’s not my cost also.”

“I don’t want it then.”Veena was surprised at herself for engaging in this conversation.

The rains still waited, the sky was still dark.

Aunty take, not yours not mine, two hundred rupees, ok, take it now.”

Veena couldn’t help smiling at this persistent young salesman. There was something about his eyes, they were so innocent but seemed to have seen ‘not so innocent’ life. Pain lurked clearly behind that smile, in those eyes. Veena felt a little uncomfortable.

Corrections, examinations, supervisors, rickshaws all became distant now. Veena opened her wallet and pulled out two hundred rupees notes and gave it to the boy. The boy took the notes and pushed it into his oversized shirt pocket. Still flashing that smile, he handed the umbrella to Veena.

Veena took the umbrella, tried opening it, it wouldn’t open. She struggled, she pushed and pulled a little, it still wouldn’t open.

“Aunty, give it to me, the boy said, he took the umbrella from Veena and very gently pressed and pushed it up. The umbrella opened into a huge semicircle world.

The boy held it high to accommodate Veena into this world and with that bright smile intact said, “Open it lovingly, Aunty, it will always be with you.” He handed the umbrella to Veena and left. As if on cue, the clouds burst into heavy showers.

Veena stood looking at the boy running and disappearing into the rain and crowd.

Veena carried her new umbrella and the boy with her home.