Two Brothers
Rahul sat in the last row with his wife, Sheila. He was too nervous
to sit up front. There were all kinds of important looking people
there. Some were in uniform. The others in well-pressed suits and
saris. He had worn his best kurta pyjama, which his wife had ironed
for him that day. He cast a sideways glance at her in affection and
gratitude. His wife, he thought looked good in that sari. He had
bought it with his first bonus. Oh, she looked so good, he thought.
She could sit in front, he thought, but not he.
They were there that day to applaud his younger brother, Randhir. A
jawan in the army, he was one of those who were to be awarded a medal
for bravery. He had shown great courage at the border, where he and a
few others had confronted militants and overpowered them. This was a
big day for the family, Rahul thought. He hoped they would take
pictures that he could frame.
Sitting there, his mind went back to that other morning, ten years
earlier. He had woken up with an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.
He rushed to the mori, that small enclosure that served as
bathroom in their one room home. Involuntarily he coughed up blood.
At first he thought that his gums were bleeding. But then after
cleaning his teeth with tooth powder on finger, he coughed again.
Blood. He decided not to tell his wife. Why bother her. She had her
own problems, poor thing. Their five-year old son was constantly
falling sick and Sheila had to take him to the municipal hospital and
wait in long queues for almost the whole day, while he had to go to
work.
He was a loader with a transport company. Every day he thanked God
for the job. It barely provided his family with what they needed to
keep body and soul together. But he managed, somehow. He worked extra
hours to get overtime. His brother, Randhir was then living with
them. He had passed his 9th standard. The school had
granted the boy a freeship. But his books and uniform and an
occasional tuition fee all added up to quite a sum. After the 10th
standard board exam, Randhir expressed the desire to study further.
His friends told him to forget it. Randhir should start working. But
Rahul thought about it. He would send him to college.
Randhir did well. Passed his 12th standard. On the morning
of the bloody cough, Randhir gave Rahul the news that he wanted to
join the armed forces.
Life was not easy. Rahul kept coughing up blood almost every day. One
day, he took an hour’s leave to visit the municipal hospital’s
OPD. It was TB, he was told. He had to take his medicines regularly.
But more important, he would have to stop doing his kind of work. A
loader’s job was too heavy for a TB patient. When his company came
to know of it, they told him they could not have him work there any
more. He was given three months pay and asked to leave.
This hit him hard. He went home and wept like a baby. His wife
watched him for a while. Then she took his hand and said, “Look at
me.” Slowly he looked up, his jaw hardening with resolve. “Look
at me, she said. I am there. Don’t worry”.
The next day Sheila found work in two houses. But Rahul could not
bear the thought of doing nothing himself. He took the three months
pay, went out and bought himself a second-hand cart, loaded it with
bananas, oranges and fruit, which he bought in the whole sale market.
Every day he went out in the sun selling fruit.
Yes, life was not easy these past ten years. But they had survived.
His tuberculosis had left him, thank God. Life was still quite hard,
but he was not complaining. He was alive with the best wife and son
in the world. And now this brother of his! God is so good, he said
under his breath.
He heard Randhir’s name being announced. He saw his younger brother
in uniform walk up to the dais and receive his medal to loud
applause.
Then his brother did a strange thing. He unpinned the medal from his
shirt, held it up and briskly walked down the aisle. The audience
followed him with their eyes as Randhir came to the last row to where
Rahul was sitting.
He pinned the bravery medal on to Rahul’s kurta, clicked his heels
to attention and stood for a good minute saluting his older brother.
For the Agnel Ashram Magazine May 2015
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