“ मेरो सुन मत्रय चोरे छ , क़िस्मत चोरे छैन, सुन त वापिस आइंछ “
(HE STOLE MY GOLD NOT MY LUCK.. I WILL EARN IT BACK AGAIN….)
I read news of rich people committing suicides for business losses. But here is a poor man, who hardly earns 200 to 300 rupees a day, How can he be so content. What he lost was not just money, it was his dreams.
What keeps him so calm?
“Rudre” , The Nepali Gardener, was the most hardworking person I had ever known, and at the same time, a drunk spoiled man during the night. He lived in the neighbourhood servant room as a watch keeper in an empty house, and was expelled from many places before he found this place due to repeated incidents of Alcohol consumption.
“म आऊंछु हई आमा , तपाई संगा भेंटना आऊंछु। मलाई ना बिरसिनु हई ’ (in Nepali)…….. (I will come mother, I will come to meet you. Please don’t forget me)
He was drunk , could barely stand and was crying all night remembering his mother. He disturbed the silence (shanti) of the night, which no-one liked in “shanti vihar”, area where I live.
To me, he was very special, not because he was hardworking, But he never used a single foul word against anyone, even when he was drunk. Most alcoholics I have known are not tolerable for what they speak, when drunk, but this man’s every word was respectful. His only problem was Alcohol . He would cry all night talking to plants ,remembering his mother. Everybody liked his work but were sick of his midnight drama.
To save his money, he made a routine of depositing all excess with my father, He would come almost daily with some money in his torn trouser’s pocket and would handover to my dad with his soiled hands. My dad kept all him money in a secured pouch in his own locker. He would withdraw at times and keep all records in his memory, After all it was not easy money.
One fine day, Few days before Dusshera , which is one of the biggest festival of Nepal , Rudre decided to go back for a vacation with his family. After two years of his Hard work , he had managed to save around 50000 Rupees with my Dad. So Dad gave all the money back to him, which he tied up on his waist with a piece of cloth. And left for railway station in a Big Tempo (tuktuk) , we gave him a few chapatis rolled in potato to eat, for the long journey.
Travelling alone on a tempo was a Luxury to him, and he made sure that he sits like a king, all alone on the Cushion, He carried nothing but just a few clothes, i could see a new saaree in is pack tied with a bedsheet. Since he was going after a long time, my father booked him a ticket to Gorakhpur from where He would Pass through the border to his home in Nepal.
At midnight same day me and my wife were talking about “Rudre” When I heard him talking to flowers again. Same Shit “ “म आऊंछु हई आमा………….He returned back and he was drunk again. All drama was to get money and spend it on Alcohol, I thought. Next morning, I saw him gardening at Neighbours House , So My Dad asked him why he came back. My dad was angry.
He replied that He was dropped by the tempo driver at around 9pm to catch “ Gorakhpur express”, which leaves at around 10pm. While He was sitting in Platform and counting his money, someone snatched all his money and ran away, I did not believe him , So to enquire, I went to the railway station and asked people there……..at least someone must have seen.
The Tea vendor confirmed, it was truth. He was indeed robbed by someone. I felt very bad for him, His two years Savings from hardwork was all lost in just a moment. A normal person would think of suicide in such circumstances.
On my way back from railway station , i even thought of compensating him but that was just a thought, the capitalist inside me never allowed that, and I excused myself thinking he is too integral to accept any free money, But the truth is I never tried. I did not want to get into hassles of informing police either.
After all who was he for me? “ A poor labour”!!!
So I asked him “Aren’t you feeling bad for the money”. After all , that was his hard earned money for two years. I had seen him sweating profusely when working non stop.
He said smiling “ मेरो सुन मत्रय चोरे छ , क़िस्मत चोरे छैन, सुन त वापिस आइंछ। “
(HE STOLE MY GOLD NOT MY LUCK.. I WILL EARN IT BACK AGAIN….)
Rudre died in winters of 2018 due to excessive consumption of alcohol, he was found dead at his home early in the morning. He was 35-36 years old but looked very old. He was peaceful and calm on his death bed too. My father still had some of his money deposited , which was used for his last rites, No one knew his address or any contacts, He did not have any mobile phone or any document in his possession that could help in knowing his whereabouts. so he was cremated without any family members.
I will always remember his smiling words…..
“ HE STOLE MY GOLD NOT MY LUCK’.. I WILL EARN IT BACK AGAIN….” R.I.P.
“The world has enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed.”- Mahatma Gandhi
Disclaimer: Consumption of Alcohol in any form is injurious to health. Photograph is for representation purpose only.
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WANDERLUST. A TRAVELLER 