Shyam Bhattaru, Pune.
He was short and skinny. He had unkempt brown hair. He was dark skinned. He had a bit of a squint that otherwise regressed his innocuous looking 14 year-oldish face.
He was impeccably dexterous however. Sticking one hand deftly on the overbearing mast of the shed of the railway station,with one continuous motion of his pocket knife, he sliced the canvas of the detergent powder ad-board that was supposedly 33% better than its previous version. He then passed his other hand towards his backpack and quickly shuffled through a new canvas entry. A few stubs of tape and the onlookers that included myself were impressed by both events.The efficacy of replacing the ad-board canvas, as well as the fact that the originally 33% better detergent powder has now even bettered its prospects with a buy-one-get-one-free offer.
Kid spidey wasn't done however, he had to replace some more canvas boards. One after another he replaced all the 7 boards under the shed within fifteen minutes.
But there was another side of the platform that was to be done. One assumed he had to get down. He was now in a precarious position.
One of his hand held his pocket knife and supported his back pack and the other the giant steel mesh that supported the electrical supplies of the station shed. I assumed he had an assistant waiting to grab him as he prepared to leap 15 feet below on the tiled floor of the railway station.But to my surprise he just handed his bag and knife to his buddy and stayed afloat on the ledge with one hand secured on the mesh.
What he did next was almost something out of TV show. He used his other hand as leverage and scrawled his tiny frame up inside the mesh with the electrical wiring and what not!!!
What the heck was he up to? Dumb ass has a death wish, one would presume. But unnerved he went on inside the mesh and reached the nearest quad pillar.
As he lowered himself akin to Spider-man,the people around the pillar let him the space he needed for his monkey leap. And after considering a safe leap he finally moonsaulted across the floor. He seemed weary,but only took a couple of seconds to get his breath back. He then proceed towards the other 4 platforms that awaited to be furnished.
My train arrived. I was a little flabbergasted by the whole performance. That brilliant son of a bitch should be going to school, not doing menial tasks and risk his neck.
But what could I do? Or for that matter what could my peers do? Kids like him have past it, and the reality bitch has hit them too hard in the prospect of poverty.
Even if I go Steve Waugh on his support and send him to school, there is no guarantee he would not be falling for truant delinquency. And what if he does?
What after that? Will people still be on the lookout to give him a white collar job? Even regular kids struggle to get a good job of any worth of any while.
What about him? No references, no recommendations, no backgrounds and most importantly no money.
Sometimes it seems rags to riches stories are originally far fetched.They don't count in today's world of evolve-or-die-cut-throat-get-the-heck-out-of-my-way-or-the-highway competition.
The manipulating hoarders,the profiteers,the middlemen still rule while sterile administration only caters to selective governance.
There is a gag around the social media about whether India could ever produce a self made billionaire/pioneer/entrepreneur like Mark Zuckerberg-founder of you-know-what that in turn processed this gag across the internet altogether. Honestly,if Zuckerberg was born in India,there would be no Facebook.
People may scoff at that idea and point out to the Tatas, Birlas and Ambanis and say otherwise, but those ventures have made it by virtue of starting a long time ago and has been ubiquitous across generations of development. They opened up at a time when India showed all kinds of promise in the advent of becoming a glorious face of Asia.
Truth is, the cream-of-the-crop talent now serves abroad and all we are left with is the second rate talented race that only intends to make money for no benefit of the nation. We have been retrograde in our growth as nation and as a proud race. And root of the problem lies in the immense competition that have been breast fed into us since we have been dropping our kids in schools. We all have been chasing one thing in life-a one man mission for earning money with or without scruple.
As i boarded my train compartment I could still see the kid on the other side furbishing the posters.
I adjusted my luggage when suddenly i heard a thud and a loud wail.
I looked up. The posters were slowly falling down on the dusty floor. Nearby the kid was writhing in pain after his awkward landing on his knee.
A taste of accomplishment, a brief ascent and all to be followed by a painful -
"Fall from grace".