Bête ke liye kya…

Originally written on 22nd March 2016 in Pune:

Given the traffic outside the restaurant, it took me a couple of seconds to figure out what he said. Even then I wanted to be sure of what I heard and asked him to repeat. And what he repeated sunk my heart in a peculiar way. He said:

"Sir, bete ke liye aur kya hukum hai?" (What's your command for your son?)

Even as it did not sink in fully, I hugged him quickly and told him that there are no commands for a son, only wishes and blessings - 'sirf dua aur aashirwad rahega'.

He then said: "Har koi paraya maanta aaya hai aaj tak. Aap woh pehle insaan ho jisne kal mujhe gale lagaya." (Everyone has considered me to be distant. You are the first one to have hugged me yesterday.)

By then, my heart was sunk and my emotions were a complete jelly pudding and my throat was beginning to choke. It still is choking even an hour later as I sit down to type this.

"Aap aate rahen to mujhey zaroor bataiyega." (Let me know when you come next.), he said to me next.

I gave him my number and name and told him to feel free to call me whenever he felt like talking and then I and asked for his name.

Mohammad Shafi, he replied.

He was the same young waiter boy from Kashmir at Hotel Srimaan, Pune I wrote about yesterday. And I had hugged him yesterday in appreciation for the sincerity with which he went wiping the already clean table tops at a distance even as I was having my breakfast in a corner of the restaurant.

And then it struck me that he didn't feel the need to have known my name or religion to have adopted me as his father.

I remembered that I had adopted my former student from Delhi University as my daughter about 6 years ago and my wife's colleague Om had adopted me as his elder brother about a month back but what Mohammad did to me and for me has left me a complete emotional wreck even as I have to start day 2 of my session here in Pune.

Will remember you forever, Shafi; will remember you.

Thanks for what you did for me.

Sohum _/\_

PS: Back when this happened I didn’t have the practice of taking a picture of or with the subjects in my stories. And on top of that I had checked out of the hotel that morning and so couldn’t get his number and other contact details.

I regret that today.

Else, the reader would have had the photo of a lean and thin, clean shaven, fair complexed young Kashmiri boy in black trousers, white shirt and a black tie to go with this story.

I hope I can find Shafi someday and write the second edition of this story with his latest photo.