Incidently one Mr. Sukhdevrao Banduji Jadhav (real name), asocial worker
from our community started a new lodging and boarding for the students of
scheduled castes, just a few yards away from the government high school on
payment basis. The monthly fee was Rs. 8/- and of course it was beyond our
reach.
One day my brother came,
discussed something with Jadhav and came to us at Wadi. He asked our mother
whether she would agree to prepare meals for the students for his hostel,
maintain it and do any job connected with hostel. In return we both i.e. my
mother and I would get free food and free staying in the hostel. As it was in
my interest, she kept mum for a short time but asked my brother, “Guna” – she
used to call him by that name – “would Raoji be benefited by this arrangement?”
After getting assurance, without a word we shifted from Wadi to Sukhdevrao
Jadhav’s hostel.
A new chapter opened in my life. Although step-by-step but pangs of
starvation were getting diminished!
My mother would prepare food twice a day i.e. once in the morning and
second in the night. There were about twelve students belonging to our caste.
Now for us there was no agricultural hard work or digging ditches or
stone crushing work. There was no worry to have a morsel and there was no
fearful silence that would normally prevail every day in our family, though not
for my mother and me but not so in our family at our village.
Hostel was a big hut, neat and clean. There was spacious ground in front
of it. There was a proper compound and gate. A Brahmin family by name Borvankar
was our neighbour. We were interacting without hesitation. All students were
sleeping in one big hut type room where we were taking our meals and studying.
As hostel was stone’s throw away
from our high school, there was no
walking a long distance in all seasons. as it was earlier for me at village Wadi, So now our life became
tolerable.
Gradually but surely a problem started cropping up. My mental
tranquility began to disturb. My mother meant an embodiment of love, affection,
and compassion for everybody. As she looked after me so everyone alike and all
students respected her.
She would get up early in the morning, sweep hostel compound, clean
utensils, prepare meals, serve to all students daily. The whole work would go
beyond 12 at night and again she would wake up early in the morning next day.
It was a running cycle, which never halted. Some times I saw her sitting in the
night and when touched her head or hands I found her in high temperature. But
she never complained. She never asked for any medicine or help. In house also I
never heard her calling a bad word for or about anybody. She would suffer but
would not utter a word. She was always a mute sufferer, an embodiment of
endurance, tolerance and patience. But I was observing excessive work was
telling on her health. If I said something she simply, gently and slowly would
put her wrinkled hand on my back and say, “Don’t worry my son, everything is
OK. Nothing is wrong with me. Look! I will not die so soon. I want to see you a
big man”.
My words in her mouth! My ambition in her mind!
Although not with any wrong intention, when there was some delay for
meals due to illness or work the students would grumble and that would pierce
my mind like a knife-cut.
As I said earlier that
arrangement had solved our food problem but there was no proper saree (a long
cloth for women to wear) for my mother nor even additional just one more
blouse. There was nothing to put on during winter season. So was the case with
me. I too had only one old shirt and pant. Literally true, we both would wash
our clothes in the night time. My mother would cover herself with some hostel
bed sheet and used to cover myself with the towel so that we would have clean clothes
during daytime. Just because we were getting only free food in the hostel,
there was no other source of earning. To get any money from family was
unthinkable. Whenever my brother visited, he
would tell us about their condition. I thought how long this would
continue and how long my mother would work and suffer? Who would
redress her silent pains, sufferings and mute humiliation? And from where
my family will get help? For whom my mother and my family had
been doing this? All questions and answers thereof indicated at me. It
was I and only I. I was for me and for me! I would become restless, sleepless
and would search sources to get out of this condition. Days and nights passed.
School going became endless a reflex and aimless movement for me.
I read some news item from the day’s newspaper from our neighbour. They
were very nice to me and especially the old man in the family was very eager to
teach me Sanskrit language when he found my interest about that language.
I hurriedly finished my morning
essentials and sat with my mother nearby for nearly for half an hour telling
her about my future place of education, job, money vis-à-vis her comfortable
life and our family’s welfare. While narrating, my voice chocked and I began to
sob. In fact I myself totally was unaware of it. I was telling her about some
nonexistent and unattainable land of paradise where I was to get all that I was
narrating her. Not understanding a single word about it, my mother as usual said
– “Don’t worry my son, do it. Everything would be alright”. And she put her
trembling hand on my head. She blessed me for my dreams and began to weep.
I quickly stood up and asked Ram (name changed) to hurry up. He too
accompanied me. While going, I narrated him my first attempt at Taj Mahal
Hotel, Gateway of India, Mumbai office. Recruiting officer of military rejected
me because I was underweight and underage to join military as a Sepoy
(soldier).
The recruiting officer had come to recruit, enlist young boys at SDO’s
office Khamgaon. The brief note about the recruitment time, office address etc
was given in the newspaper. Government was deputing R.O.S. at various cities to
recruit the young boys in the military and no strict rules were applied.
In spite of that response for military recruitment was very poor. I ate
bananas as much as I could so that my weight would reach at the required level.
I did it.
We both stood in the queue. Military doctors examined. Mr. R.O. asked me
to run for 3-4 minutes. He asked me some questions and asked me
to sit and wait. My heartbeats increased and ambiguity of result had
engulfed my mind because of Mumbai experience I was terribly upset.
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