Birthday Party
I want to stand you a Pepsi. Why? With some hesitation, he confessed that tomorrow was his birthday. He had chosen Jose because in a small way he had become Sushil's confidant and friend.
Jose talked about this great NGO across the river who fed and provided shelter for the night to a couple of hundred little children. The NGO's hands were full, funds stretched. He couldn't take on any more children. So Jose has not been able to put Sushil there or do much else for him. But he listened and so had become Sushil's friend.
The next day Jose went and bought a little cake for Sushil and those of us who happened to be around joined in a little impromptu birthday celebration on the landing. Sushil felt so embarrassed that he couldn't lift his head and kept biting his nails shyly. For the next few days he went around with the same shy and embarrassed look. He didn't know how to handle his new celebrityhood and did the only thing he could, smiled.
Sushil naturally does not work for us. We wouldn't dream of using child labour. But he works for amiable Akhtar mian who runs the tea stall on the
landing outside the office. Akhtar mian's tea and Sushil are a part and not a part of our lives. Officially they do not exist but we cannot think of working all those hours, in and out of stories found, chased and lost, without the endless cups of tea.
Many of us who would not dream of using child labour in any form overlook the army of little children who are a part of our lives. They work in and around our homes and offices, serve at dhabas or help the garage mechanic. They are taken for granted until someone takes an interest and simply lends a patient ear.
My wife and I debated whether or not to let the two little girls who came to our house when we moved in to do the sweeping. If we didn't employ them, someone else in the neighbourhood would. We tried to do them a good turn and asked them to come in during the afternoon and pick up the alphabets from my wife but they were not interested. If there was cable TV and a movie on, then maybe that would have been an inducement. We have eventually tried to salve our middle class conscience by giving them something to eat and the clothes our children have outgrown.
I have not asked Sushil what he thinks of Narasimha Rao's economic reforms. Were he a little older and had the vote his opinion would have mattered. For all practical purposes his life has not changed. Of course, liberalisation has promoted new economic activity and led to a mushrooming of the financial press. And newspapers need teaboys. But maybe reforms should mean more to poor children than that.
We keep discussing in a desultory fashion what we could do for Sushil. Most agree that the government is not much help and the future lies in more and more NGOs devising their own helplines. The tea over, we go back to our terminals. Sushil would not have impinged on our consciousness were it not for Jose's little birthday party. He would have simply gone on serving tea and wished us good evening saab in the tone of good night at the end of the day, smiling his little infectious smile for which his lot in life gives him no reason to.