2014-11-30

Strucking gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.
Today's theme is:

WOW- ‘Connect the dots between Cycle, Hotel and Family’


Strucking Gold: Cycle, Hotel and Family

Cycle, hotel and family. Three words echoing the reality in the life of Pappu, riding the black cycle, from the slum in Mumbai to the Ritz Hotel in South Mumbai. He started as a cleaner at the tender age of 10 and worked diligently, dedicated himself in the hotel and saved enough money from the baksheesh of the Sahebs to buy himself a second hand cycle. It was his prized possession which he called his 'Black Ambassador. Riding to and fro, braving the sweat and crazy traffic in Mumbai, Pappu's boring life revolves around his cycle, the hotel he calls the second home and the family-Maa, Baba and Munni, his two-year-old sister, who is the apple of his eyes. As he rode the cycle at night fall and early morning, the smile of Munni would miraculously make the tiredness on his face disappear.
It was a usual morning when Munna set on his cycle to Ritz Hotel in Mumbai. He stopped at Marine Drive for a while and sip a cup of steaming hot tea he bought from the vendor, shouting in a coarse voice, 'Chai chai chai..cutting! cutting!' He realized that he reached South Mumbai, earlier than usual by two hours. The time was reset on his modest Reliance handset. Munna was getting bored sitting on the paraphet in the scorching sun. It was 6 a.m. Somehow, he walked on the huge boulders and almost slipped. He fell down and his leg was stuck between the huge rocks. Munna pulled all his might and freed himself. As he was limping his eyes struck upon a shiny object. He looks around to ensure that nobody was watching and tried to pulling the huge boulders. A grey tin suitcase that would have been exhibited as vintage was hiding behind the stack of rocks in ruins. He opened the suitcase and his eyes popped at the bank notes, some crispy and the rest, old notes, ten, 100, thousands. Munna was shit scared at the money that he could have never imagined throughout his life. 
Munna pulled back the suitcase under the boulders and cycled back to The Ritz Hotel and worked diligently till 2 a.m. He cycled back not to home but stopped at Marine Driver, sit for a while and made sure that no eye brows were raised on him. He surveyed the Mumbai Police van where cops stopped for a cup of chai and drove faraway. Not a soul could be seen. The frightened Munna walks on the parapet and quickly slipped beneath the rock. He struggled with the pot of gold that he carried on his cycle and slowly made his way to the slum. As he cycled inside the small lanes in the sleepy slum, he knew that he has just made his life. Munna has big plans for his Munni who will go to a private school. Fate has struck and made his life. He slept peacefully that night for he knows tomorrow will be another day, Cycle, Hotel and Family.
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