The Bare Feet.

Only a small shadow lingered below the charred bare feet of Eapen Anna. Eapen Anna was a geriatric stooped man. He was tall, cachectic. His skin was withered and abutted closely to his bony prominences. His sclera was muddy and tongue was barren. The signs of solar exhaustion were evident by the bead of sweats rolling down from his temples. He paused at a ‘pan shop’ and asked for some water. The ‘pan walla’ kept a sealed bottled water in front of him and demanded ten bucks. It was a mockery of his poverty but then anger is not the luxury enjoyed by poor, old and weary.

Eapen Anna continued with his waddling gait. With each step his soles burnt. The tiny tortuous varicose veins swelled with every touch down and then blanched. He came across the office annex where he waited patiently for about 40 minutes; accompanying him was heat and humid breeze. Only one question flitted in his mind “Why hasn’t he come yet?” He desperately searched for familiarity in the random faces passing by.

Across the street under the tarpaulin shade of a tea stall, a dark teenager sat on the bench sipping his lukewarm ‘chai’. He was observing the man for about 20 minutes now. He jauntily crossed the road avoiding the incoming traffic and approached the old man “Appa- do you need any help? Will you have some tea?”

Eapen Anna said “I am thirsty, where will I get some water?”

The young boy helped him cross the street and made him sit in the shade. He gave him a plastic jug of water. Eapen Anna poured some water on the cup of his right palm and splashed his face twice, thrice. Then with the spread margin of index finger to thumb, he wiped his face from forehead to chin and flicked his wrist twice. Then he gulped half a jug of water in a single breath and sighed in satisfaction.

“What are you doing here in this October heat?” the boy asked.

“I am waiting to meet a long lost relative of mine. The thing is he is getting married soon and I am the only elderly, so he wishes to seek my blessings.” Eapen Anna answered showing the letter in his pocket which he had received 2 days back.

“But why seek blessings on the road?” the boy struggled to understand.

“He is a busy man. He has some meeting in the annex today. He also wanted to give me some money as a token of affection. It is the need of the money that has drawn me over here.” The old man paused and continued “my poverty must have embarrassed him.”

“As in?” the boy inquired.

“About couple of furlongs away on the other side of the rail tracks there are slums. I have a small 10 by 10 shanty over there. That postal address is the only possession I have. Once when my muscles were not atrophied and my lenses were not opaque, I too used to work. But now I am only a burden on my son. It is only an unfair equation that a pair of hands feed five stomachs. You know poverty and illiteracy are the two sides of the same curse, the latter is more sinister however. ‘Beta’ it is the need and not the greed that has drawn me over here” Eapen Anna said in the drawling voice.

The boy kept his hand on Eapen Anna’s shoulder and said with concern “Appa- this long distant relative of yours is not coming. Someone has pulled a cheap trick on you.”

“NO…No! He must be busy in the meeting. He will come” Eapen Anna said adamantly and with bewildered look.

“Try to understand Appa. Today is Sunday. The office annex is closed. There is no meeting, no relative” the boy tried to explain.

“But then how can he marry without elderly blessings?” the old man doubted. “And the monetary help that he had promised me? No…No! He will come. I will wait.” Anna did not budge.

“Appa- he is not coming. You go home” The boy said with athoritative look.

Eapen Anna had waited long enough and was now sulking in the unthinkable fact that he had been betrayed. The boy couldn’t help but notice the bare feet of Eapen Anna. They were thrashed, lacerated and cracked.

“Where are your chappals?” the boy inquired.

“I don’t have any.” Was the reply.

The boy thought for a while and looked around. He found a stale folded newspaper at the nook. He spread it on the dirt and asked Eapen Anna to keep his feet on it. Eapen Anna was confused but followed nonetheless. The boy took a pen from his pocket and bent down. He outlined the Eapen Anna’s feet and off he hurried away in jiffy. Before leaving he ordered for a ‘cutting chai’ and a packet of ‘Parle G’ for Eapen Anna.

Huffing and puffing he reached the nearby cobbler. He flashed open the front page of the newspaper with both arms stretched afront. “Do you have the slippers of this size?” he asked. The shoemaker nodded and gave the slippers. The young lad barely managed to pay; the metallic coins were more in the mix.

When he returned to the stall the glass of tea was empty and the biscuit wrapper was in dustbin. He unwrapped the chappals from the newspaper and placed it in front of the old man. The man slowly got up and wore the chappals. He kept his rough hand o the boy’s head and blessed him. They both said nothing. Eapen Anna’s wet eyes said thankyou numerous times. Eapen Anna wiped his tears and walked off.

The young.

It had all started about 8 weeks ago when he was asked to go to the post office to drop a letter. Over there he noticed abundance of floating addresses; on the parcels, on the bunch of letters in the postman’s hand; on the envelopes of fellow customers waiting in the queue. The boy’s age was such that the urge to prank for a good frolic was enormous. On that day he memorized an address and wrote a bogus letter inviting the recipient at the office annex. The next day he posted the letter. To his surprise the person did visit the annex on the said time and date, waited, got frustrated and then left. He enjoyed each and every moment of it observing everything from the tea stall across. Since then this had become an escape for him from the humdrum routine life. Few people came, few did not but the prank continued. Being the mastermind, each time when the dice was cast right, he felt exhilarated.

But today it was different. He despised himself. What he considered as a trifle, harmless piece of mischief had so many sore ramifications. He thought about the old man and his bare feet. The walk back home that day was heavy. He wondered whether buying 'chappals' for him was enough of the compensation. In an attempt of reparation, he removed his 'chappals' and held them in hands. His soles scalded, pricked and ached. The walk back home was really very long.

The old.

Eapen Anna started his return journey dispirited and empty handed. He hated his jinxed fate. He loathed this scornful joke called life. But what a poor old man can do; his aggression was exactly like himself- toothless. Then suddenly he thought of the boy who helped him. He realized that his steps were brisk now. The walk was not stinging anymore. When he crossed the ballast of the railway track, he felt as if he was walking on the flower bed. A centimeter of rubber beneath the sole had made the walk back home really very short. The thoughts of that long distant relative, money and the letter vaporized in the thin air.