What's Worth What!

‘Some People are so poor, all they have is money.’ a quote that I read recently. And when you start thinking, it actually makes sense. This is because the worth of something is absolute, but its value is relative. Relative to us – you! That Gucci wallet or that IPhone is worth buying not because it’s Gucci or Apple, but because you think it’s worth your money; everyone around thinks it’s worth your money; they’ve made you think it’s worth your money! A hundred rupees may not seem a lot to someone, but to a homeless striving for food, that piece of paper is a life saviour. A thousand rupee note becomes a memory when it brings happiness and not just pizza.

What’s Worth What!

On a hot summer evening, a busy crowd pushed up Satarani Street. The place was well known for its daily travellers. Nearly half the city at least once crossed the 200 meter stretch on a working day, a survey had unveiled. On either side of the road were gigantic multi-storey buildings, which housed local stalls at their foot. Some permanent and legal, some readily removable and only present because the owners were wise enough to enjoy the benefits of corruption. The road was narrowed down by footpaths on either sides which in turn were separated from the main road by old but robust railings. Blue – the government had wanted them. A typical day involved hawkers shouting their souls off to sell their offerings, a huge rush of deluded corporates travelling to their destination and the sound of motor vehicles moving up and down the street.

But this story is not about the giant delegates or the persuading sellers, but about the one that is always missed out in the bigger picture. Amidst the giant clusters of steel and concrete was an old wooden coffee shop that children were told about by their grandfathers and grandfathers by their fathers. It was a piece of art that had withstood earthquakes and inspired generations of stumbling pioneers over a cup of coffee. Many would consider it a shame, but before the house sat many beggars, begging to live through their lives and one amongst these many was young Aamir – with barely six years of life experience. He carried his younger brother on his back wherever he went, however, there were not many place he had visited.

He never begged from strangers. He only sat at a corner with his brother and a dirty handkerchief unfolded before him. ‘You will not beg’, his mother would say, before she died on a cold night as he remembered. But the bitter truth was he had nothing better to do – he had never known anything else. Every person he had known begged for their existence. Every morning he unfolded the same old handkerchief and sat at the same place, but never begged for money. But something unusual happened on that very evening.

He sat at the usual corner when an extensive car stopped near another beggar. A car whiter than anything he had ever seen and longer than the usual ones he’d see. “Wow, a Mercedes!”, someone from the crowd exclaimed. A young neatly done man came out of the car like an angel from heaven itself! Aamir could not help himself from looking at his shoes. “Look at his shoes”, he grabbed his brothers attention. “I want those”, the younger one looked in awe. “Sshh, he’s coming towards us.”

Their minds were so captivated by the shiny boots that they failed to notice how he distributed money among all the poor. He came to them and paused. They still stared at the boots.

“This was my father’s last wish. Pray for him.”, he took out something from his pocket and threw it casually at the handkerchief without even trying to sound sentimental. Aamir tried to look at his face but the shrewd rays of the setting sun kept him from taking a glance and even before the kids could realise what happened, he was gone in his heavenly ride. Aamir stared at the car for as far as he could.

“Look, he dropped something. What is this?”, said Kasim, the younger brother.

“It’s money” he took the note in his hand.

“Is it real? I have never seen one this big.” He stared dumb struck.

 Aamir had no answer, for it was the first time he had realised a how a thousand rupees felt in hand.

“It looks real” he said. But could it be? The money that he had heard fables of from his mother? The money that everyone said was the solution to everything? Could he be holding that money?

“Give that to me, it is not real!” an old beggar exclaimed as he approached.

Aamir looked at him perplexed, “NO!”, he shouted and ran off holding his brother’s hand.

He ran to a safe distance and turned back: There was no one following, so he carried Kasim on his back like he always did and kept walking. He looked at the note and kept it in his pocket.

He kept walking drenched in thoughts. If the money was real, what could he possibly do with it? Maybe buy a shirt he thought as he waved off the fly that sat on his bare stomach. Or he could eat whatever he imagined. The foods of the rich, the desserts of the high class – he was rich now after all. Perhaps he could go past the street where his mother had forbidden him to go – he had money, he was powerful now.

‘How much is a thousand rupees exactly?’ he paused. Can I get a house to live in he said to himself, ‘We will never have to shiver in the cold again!’. Yes that was it! He wanted a house! But how? Who sells a house? He had seen people buy food, articles, even medicine, but never did he encounter anyone who had bought a house – who had bargained for a house like he’d seen people bargaining for clothes and stuff.

“Where can you buy a house?”, he questioned a man passing by. He was busy talking on the phone, but casually pointed at a store.

A smile crossed Aamir’s face. “Now we’ll have a house Kasim!” he said in excitement and rushed towards the store. He had never known that an ordinary shop did sell something extraordinary! He pushed open the door and for the first time walked in. It was a beautifully crafted room with sofas and well cushioned chairs.

“I want to buy a house”, he looked up to a man as he tapped his legs.

The man looked down upon him, “Who let you in, you little scum?”

“I have money, look!” Aamir said as he took out the note.

“Where did you steal that from you thief?”, the man shouted and at once reached for the note.

“NO!”, he retracted his hands.

“Throw this thief out, security!” he demanded.

Aamir spat on him and at once made for the exit, he ran away before the security guard could catch him. He ran like the innocent prisoner, jailed for a crime he hadn’t commit.

He stopped a while later to catch his breath. “Are you okay brother?” he had tightened his grip on his brother.

“This is a bad place!” Aamir said as he caught his breath.

“I don’t need a house if bastards like him sell it”, Kasim expressed.

“We’ll do something else with the money” he smiled.

The smile faded away as he walked ahead. What now? What would he do with the money now?

He crossed the road and started walking towards his safe place, but on the other side of the road. Was there anything he could do to get a lifetime supply of good food with that money? What exactly could he get with that kind of money? He silently walked down the pavement unnoticed by the ‘higher class’ that rushed beside him.

“Look, it’s tiger!”, Kasim exclaimed. This grabbed Aamir’s and Tiger’s attention. Tiger at once came for the two vigorously shaking his tail.

“Good boy tiger!”, Aamir exclaimed, as the dog revolved around the two – all happy and excited.

Just a little ahead of where they stood sat a young girl – almost Aamir’s age.

“Hey Laila!”, Aamir cried as he waved towards her. He rushed towards her only to realise how she had broken down to tears.

“Why are you crying?”, Tiger still followed them.

She looked at them, “I am hungry!” she made a failed attempt to stop her tears.

“Why didn’t you eat something then?” he asked.

“I don’t want something! I want to eat at the coffee shop! When I said this to my dad, he slapped me and told me I will never be able to eat there.”, she cried more furiously as she completed her sentence.

“You can do all that you believe. That’s what my mother said”, he patted Laila.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Kasim. “Yes! I can eat everything in Ramu’s shop!” he replied.

“You?” Aamir looked at Tiger.

He barked and jumped around them.

“We will not eat at Ramu’s today” he said smiling, “Get up Laila! We will eat at the coffee house!”

“Shut up! I don’t have that kind of money!”

“You do not worry about that. Let’s go now!”

They walked in joy to the coffee house. The house was full so they decided to get their snacks packed and eat outside the shop. They ate cookies they had never heard of! They ate snacks whose names they couldn’t pronounce! They threw coffee at each other, they wore the coffee cups on their heads and pretended to be high class gentlemen! They fought and they ate all that they could.

They walked down the pavement when Aamir said to Laila, “Someday, I’ll be strong enough to take you away from your scolding dad! Will you come with me then?”

She smiled and slapped him gently on his cheeks.

“Look Tiger!”, Kasim said as he threw a biscuit away. Tiger at once made for the biscuit! As he

rushed, he stumbled across a woman who shouted in fear of the dog. All at once burst into laughter! The roads were the same, the people still unbothered, the hawkers still shouting their souls out, the sun was still on its way to setting and nothing much had changed in the bigger picture. Only three – no, four merry souls - walked down the pavement laughing and smiling.