Kartikeya Ghimire
“Rajan, where are you going?”
It was Sabu. Rajan looked back and smiled. “To the market,” he said. “And where are you going, Sabu?”
“To Daddy’s office.”
The children conversed for sometime on some childish topic and took their own ways.
For a few days the friendly nature of Sabu had been miraculously arousing Rajan’s interest in her. She was in fact very good, and mixed well with him. ‘How will she behave if she knows that I am the son of a poor vegetable seller? She is the daughter of a rich man. Will she continue making me her friend?’ he would keep thinking.
Rajan knew that Sabu did not lack anything. She had a big house with many servants. Her family owned a car and she had everything. He knew for sure that Sabu would break off their friendship the moment she comes to know the reality about him. ‘What will I do then?’ he thought hopelessly.
As soon as Rajan reached the vegetable shop, his father handed over the shop to him and went out on certain business. Rajan had to tackle the customers. As he sat in the shop, a single thought kept on tormenting him all the time, ‘What will I do if Sabu comes here and sees me selling vegetable? O God! That will be a great problem.’
As he sat in his shop, he remembered the previous day, when Sabu had given him a book. “My father bought it in the US. It is for you,” she had said. He had initially hesitated, but the last spoken words had compelled him to accept the gift. She had said, “In fact it had been bought a few days earlier. I thought you would not like it. But later I knew, you loved reading. Take this.”
The book was indeed a wonderful one. It contained many stories he loved to read. “Sabu, it costs a lot, doesn’t it?” he had asked, and she had suggested him to sweep the question aside.
“Brother, what is the cost of a kilo of parbar*?”
“Forty,” he replied professionally. But as soon as he saw that it was Sabu’s father, he got red with nervousness. Close to him was Sabu, his friend. His secrecy was out. He was sure that the friendship had come to a ridiculous end. Nevertheless, there was an exchange of smiles, though not of words.
The next day at school, Rajan could not recover from embarrassment. He sat, sad and silent. Tears silently spoke the tale of his cursed poverty.
“What are you doing alone, Rajan? How long have I been looking for you here and there?” It was Sabu’s voice, the least expected of all voices. She saw his tears before he could manage to wipe them out.
“What! Are you in tears? What is the matter, Rajan? Tell me. You are my best friend.”
“Do you still make me your friend when you know that I am the son of a poor vegetable vendor?” There was seriousness in his voice.
“You fool! Is it for that you are crying? My father says, one who works for living is not a small person. Those who steal or cheat are bad people. You work for your living, don’t you? That makes you great, and you will always be my best friend.”
Rajan looked at Sabu. There was sincerity in her commitment. Both of them promised to make their friendship eternal.
* parbar– a vegetable.