By Neev Aradhana Suresh
Background:
75% percent of the youth are addicted to alcohol before the age of 21 which is the legal drinking age in India. Parents, especially mothers, work very hard to educate them but most youths reject the help and instead go into bad habits.
Story:
The bell rang and the girls filed out of the room.
“Don't forget to get your counts right, girls. Don’t forget to practice. Practice is key,” called Auntie Diya as she waved goodbye to her students.
Her students were good ones. They learnt fast and well. She was happy that when Pongal (the festival of harvest) came her girls would be ready to put on a lovely show of Bharatanatyam for the entire village of Madenapalli. That would surely boost the business of her School of Indian Dances.
Auntie Diya began winding up the room. She picked up the mats on which the girls had just finished their cool down and put them in the closet behind the door. Then, she picked up the school’s key and strolled out the door. She whistled sweetly as she carefully closed and locked the door. Behind her, rickshaws sped past and vendors cried out to sell their ware. She sighed contentedly. Who could not love to be in the center of the noisy Market Sandha? It was Saturday morning and the villagers were going about their usual shopping for the week. Everywhere the smell of hot idles and vadas drifted through the air. Everything seemed impeccable.
Auntie Diya leisurely turned around and trudged northward to Tapri Chai Wala where she was to meet her friend, Rukmini. They were old friends and always found time to meet and chat over a hot steaming cup of tea. There was no better place to do that than in Tapri Chai Wala. They made the best tea in the world. Auntie Diya’s mind wandered off to what they would talk about, but suddenly, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around and there behind her she saw a thin scraggly looking boy. He wore a tattered lungi and an extra-large t-shirt that sagged about him.
“Amma,” he said, “I need 10 rupees. Just ten.”
Auntie Diya exhaled wearily, “Raju, you know how much your parents worked hard to bring you up. You’re my nephew, and still will you squander my money? Your parents toiled day and night, and they just couldn’t make it to the end. You know how the plague took them. Just by remembering them, couldn’t you stop misusing money? When will you become responsible? Don’t you see that you are a disgrace to the memory of your parents.”
The boy looked at her angrily and then sped away. “If you won’t give me the money, I’ll have to take it,” he cackled after her.
Exhausted and depressed, Auntie Diya trudged on.
When she got to the restaurant, she saw Rukmini waving. She loitered up to her. One of the reasons why she loved spending time with Rukmini was because she knew what to talk and when to. She saw that Diya wasn’t so happy and asked her why.
“Rukmini, my nephew, he drinks and wastes money,” sighed Diya, “What in the world am I to do?”
“Oh, I never knew that you had a nephew. Tell me about him,” suggested Rukmini.
“Well, you see, Mr. and Mrs. Ahluwalia were Raju’s parents. They worked hard to raise him. But they made a huge mistake. They gave him all he wanted,” she elucidated, “Then, the plague came and in one year, they were gone. I was the closest relative to Raju and so I became Raju’s guardian.”
Rukmini nodded encouragingly so she went on.
“He was only ten then. I tried to change his ways, but it was too late. I tried to give him a good education, but he just wouldn’t heed me. I did everything I could. I even opened the School of Indian Dances to help fund his education, but nothing worked.”
Rukmini sighed and then softly asked, “Why are you so troubled today of all days?”
“Well, you see, today he came and asked me for ten rupees. He had none. I knew he was going to go drinking again so I refused. He stomped away but as he did, he said, ‘Don’t give me any, but I’ll go get it.’ I’m afraid that he'll steal some money,” Auntie Diya continued, “Then, I’ll have to pay because I’m his guardian. I don’t mind that so much as I don’t want him to become a spoiled brat to his family and the entire village of Madenapalli.”
Back in the crowded streets outside, Raju stood planning. He didn’t have any money and his aunt wouldn’t give him any so he’d just have to get it by force. “I don’t have money,” he hissed, “but not for long.”
⊷ THE END ⊶
By Neev Aradhana Suresh
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