The extraordinary life of an ordinary man !
It was not another regular day in the ordinary life of Bhupathy.
The same cannot be said about Bangalore weather that day. It was cold and breezy. Dark clouds were hovering over head ominously and a light drizzle was pittering and pattering the streets - typical of a June dawn.
When the alarm went off without warning at six-thirty in the morning, Bhupathy was already awake and a train of thoughts were running past his mind. In the fore of those thoughts was the choice of shirt he was going that wear that day. He only had two.
As a kid, Bhupathy grew within the walls of his small village. His father, a humble man, worked as a porter in the village's railway station - a one or two trains stopped there when they needed to refuel. On a good day, Selvam earned a paltry sum of twenty rupees with which he fed his family. Education was a luxury he could not afford and his kids never went to school.
Bhupathy never worried about it. Instead, he spent his time playing Kabbadi and Koko with the other kids who shared his fate. He enjoyed his life that did not have abusive teachers, mundane homework, and futile exams. Until he turned twelve.
The year was 1991. It was the times when India opened its market to foreign companies that wanted to sell their products here. Under the name of economic liberalisation, multinational companies forayed into the country and slaved many a men. Cheap labour was hard to find outside. One such German company that manufactured heavy machinery set shop in Bhupathy's village.
Selvam joined the firm as a welder. Bhupathy became a helper in the main assembly line. Their combined wage was thirty-five rupees per day. Life did not change much for Bhupathy after joining the job. He was still young. He was still away from school, teachers and exams. And he was still playful - the factory floors became his new playground.
Till one day, on his way to work, he ran into a lady and her son. That incident changed everything he knew about life. He had never seen his mother in such fashionable clothes or jewels the lady adorned. He had never worn any unwrinkled clothes like the lady's son had on him. A clean white shirt and a grey trousers. He did not even know the name for the piece of cloth that was tied around the kid's neck. All his life he had known only dirty shirts, torn trousers, unoiled hair and worn-out chappals. Combed hair and powdered faces were alien to him.
As he walked past them, Bhupathy noticed that the kid was fighting with his mother for a pocket money - a sum of ten rupees. His own daily wages for toiling with heavy machinery for over eight hours a day was just five. Life was certainly unfair to him. He worked hard and he earned much less than a kid who through a violent tug at his mother's saree got more in a few seconds that what he would have in a day.
Suddenly, he felt a pang of jealousy. He liked everything about the kid's life and hated everything about his. He felt inferior and tears rolled out of his eyes. It was a full week before he went back to being his normal self.
Life does not wait for anyone who wallows in self-pity and lags behind. It keeps moving and so, Bhupathy marched with it. At the age of eighteen, he became a welder in the German firm when his father died, leaving his position vacant. He earned fifty rupees a day to work with the tools his father left behind. It kept him and his mother fed.
Days rolled like they always do in tales. Traces of moustache and beard started to show on Bhupathy's face. He was growing into an ordinary young man, like many others in his village did. Life was starting to rot away lost forever in the wilderness of repetition.
Then came the sign. Wet dreams.
It all started when a software company laid its foundation in the outskirts of a city that was not far away from the village. Along with the city, Bhupathy's village also got a face-lift when coffee shops, movie halls, and malls paraded into the area. Soon, all of these ventures were doing a good job in pulling the employees of the software company, most of them girls, to them.
One day, Bhupathy happened to go past one of these ventures and that is when he saw her. A girl in her early twenties dressed in a T-shirt and a jean. She was tall. She was lean. She had all the right curves. And she had the right attire to project her figure. Not seductively, but rather gracefully.
Bhupathy eyed her from head to toe till she went out of his view. He had never seen such a beautiful girl ever before and that night, he did not sleep for a minute. After that day, Bhupathy made it a point to visit the venture frequently. But he never got lucky in any of his trips.
His first love, like he liked to call it, never took off.
Years flied by and Bhupathy was starting to forget the girl he had seen in the mall. He was returning back to his mundane life when his mother arranged his marriage.
One more mouth to be feed.
Bhupathy resigned his job as a welder in the German firm after slaving there for over thirteen years. His new position was in the house keeping department of a software firm. His new responsibilities included cleaning the pantries and the cafeteria, lifting the empty cups from employee's desks, washing them, filling coffee machines among many other things. It took him sometime to ease into the job, but when he did, once again his life slipped to old ways.
Repetitive and boring !
Then once again he envied the life of others. Big wallets, branded clothes, expensive cars - the engineers of the software firm seemed to be living their lives so large. But beyond that, they were also shown great respect. Things that he had never had in his life.
Bhupathy made up his mind. He set an ambition for himself. He never discussed it with his wife for he feared discouragement. She would tell him that the mountain was to high to climb. But he was set to try. And so began endless days of hard work.
It was not another regular day in the ordinary life of Bhupathy. He had been waiting for it for over four years.
The twelve year old bicycle was cleaned three times within an hour. His worn out shirt was pressed till it got stiff.
The fifteen-minute ride began shortly after eight. Bhupathy was behind the handle bar. Gowtham rode pillion.
In the first few minutes, there was just silence. Gowtham was starring at the black thing wrapped around his feet with great curiosity. He did not know what it was, yet he liked it. It was new.
'What is this thing on my feet?' Finally, he mustered all courage a kid could gather and asked his father. Innocently !
'It is a shoe, Gowtham!' Bhupathy did not look back. He did not want his son to see the tears in is eyes. Those happy tears.
'And this one around my neck?'
Bhupathy could not resist a smile. 'I never knew that!'
Gowtham was dressed in a clean white shirt and a grey trousers. He had a piece of cloth tied around his neck. He did not know what it was. Neither did his father.
'I will become an engineer when I'm grown up!' The young kid declared ceremoniously when they rode past the software firm Bhupathy worked for.
'I will help you become one, Gowtham!'
As he two rode past the software firm,Gowtham smiled at his father.
It was his first day to school !
The same cannot be said about Bangalore weather that day. It was cold and breezy. Dark clouds were hovering over head ominously and a light drizzle was pittering and pattering the streets - typical of a June dawn.
When the alarm went off without warning at six-thirty in the morning, Bhupathy was already awake and a train of thoughts were running past his mind. In the fore of those thoughts was the choice of shirt he was going that wear that day. He only had two.
As a kid, Bhupathy grew within the walls of his small village. His father, a humble man, worked as a porter in the village's railway station - a one or two trains stopped there when they needed to refuel. On a good day, Selvam earned a paltry sum of twenty rupees with which he fed his family. Education was a luxury he could not afford and his kids never went to school.
Bhupathy never worried about it. Instead, he spent his time playing Kabbadi and Koko with the other kids who shared his fate. He enjoyed his life that did not have abusive teachers, mundane homework, and futile exams. Until he turned twelve.
The year was 1991. It was the times when India opened its market to foreign companies that wanted to sell their products here. Under the name of economic liberalisation, multinational companies forayed into the country and slaved many a men. Cheap labour was hard to find outside. One such German company that manufactured heavy machinery set shop in Bhupathy's village.
Selvam joined the firm as a welder. Bhupathy became a helper in the main assembly line. Their combined wage was thirty-five rupees per day. Life did not change much for Bhupathy after joining the job. He was still young. He was still away from school, teachers and exams. And he was still playful - the factory floors became his new playground.
Till one day, on his way to work, he ran into a lady and her son. That incident changed everything he knew about life. He had never seen his mother in such fashionable clothes or jewels the lady adorned. He had never worn any unwrinkled clothes like the lady's son had on him. A clean white shirt and a grey trousers. He did not even know the name for the piece of cloth that was tied around the kid's neck. All his life he had known only dirty shirts, torn trousers, unoiled hair and worn-out chappals. Combed hair and powdered faces were alien to him.
As he walked past them, Bhupathy noticed that the kid was fighting with his mother for a pocket money - a sum of ten rupees. His own daily wages for toiling with heavy machinery for over eight hours a day was just five. Life was certainly unfair to him. He worked hard and he earned much less than a kid who through a violent tug at his mother's saree got more in a few seconds that what he would have in a day.
Suddenly, he felt a pang of jealousy. He liked everything about the kid's life and hated everything about his. He felt inferior and tears rolled out of his eyes. It was a full week before he went back to being his normal self.
Life does not wait for anyone who wallows in self-pity and lags behind. It keeps moving and so, Bhupathy marched with it. At the age of eighteen, he became a welder in the German firm when his father died, leaving his position vacant. He earned fifty rupees a day to work with the tools his father left behind. It kept him and his mother fed.
Days rolled like they always do in tales. Traces of moustache and beard started to show on Bhupathy's face. He was growing into an ordinary young man, like many others in his village did. Life was starting to rot away lost forever in the wilderness of repetition.
Then came the sign. Wet dreams.
It all started when a software company laid its foundation in the outskirts of a city that was not far away from the village. Along with the city, Bhupathy's village also got a face-lift when coffee shops, movie halls, and malls paraded into the area. Soon, all of these ventures were doing a good job in pulling the employees of the software company, most of them girls, to them.
One day, Bhupathy happened to go past one of these ventures and that is when he saw her. A girl in her early twenties dressed in a T-shirt and a jean. She was tall. She was lean. She had all the right curves. And she had the right attire to project her figure. Not seductively, but rather gracefully.
Bhupathy eyed her from head to toe till she went out of his view. He had never seen such a beautiful girl ever before and that night, he did not sleep for a minute. After that day, Bhupathy made it a point to visit the venture frequently. But he never got lucky in any of his trips.
His first love, like he liked to call it, never took off.
Years flied by and Bhupathy was starting to forget the girl he had seen in the mall. He was returning back to his mundane life when his mother arranged his marriage.
One more mouth to be feed.
Bhupathy resigned his job as a welder in the German firm after slaving there for over thirteen years. His new position was in the house keeping department of a software firm. His new responsibilities included cleaning the pantries and the cafeteria, lifting the empty cups from employee's desks, washing them, filling coffee machines among many other things. It took him sometime to ease into the job, but when he did, once again his life slipped to old ways.
Repetitive and boring !
Then once again he envied the life of others. Big wallets, branded clothes, expensive cars - the engineers of the software firm seemed to be living their lives so large. But beyond that, they were also shown great respect. Things that he had never had in his life.
Bhupathy made up his mind. He set an ambition for himself. He never discussed it with his wife for he feared discouragement. She would tell him that the mountain was to high to climb. But he was set to try. And so began endless days of hard work.
It was not another regular day in the ordinary life of Bhupathy. He had been waiting for it for over four years.
The twelve year old bicycle was cleaned three times within an hour. His worn out shirt was pressed till it got stiff.
The fifteen-minute ride began shortly after eight. Bhupathy was behind the handle bar. Gowtham rode pillion.
In the first few minutes, there was just silence. Gowtham was starring at the black thing wrapped around his feet with great curiosity. He did not know what it was, yet he liked it. It was new.
'What is this thing on my feet?' Finally, he mustered all courage a kid could gather and asked his father. Innocently !
'It is a shoe, Gowtham!' Bhupathy did not look back. He did not want his son to see the tears in is eyes. Those happy tears.
'And this one around my neck?'
Bhupathy could not resist a smile. 'I never knew that!'
Gowtham was dressed in a clean white shirt and a grey trousers. He had a piece of cloth tied around his neck. He did not know what it was. Neither did his father.
'I will become an engineer when I'm grown up!' The young kid declared ceremoniously when they rode past the software firm Bhupathy worked for.
'I will help you become one, Gowtham!'
As he two rode past the software firm,Gowtham smiled at his father.
It was his first day to school !
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