It was a rainy day when I moved to Karve Nagar in Pune. The very next day, as part of a 'healthy' diet, I went to buy fruits from a nearby 'fruits & vegetables' vendor. A teenage boy whose height was almost the same as mine welcomed me with a 'Good Morning, Sir' and a big smile on his face. This was the first time I had been greeted by a 'fruits & vegetables' vendor, a pleasant surprise indeed.
He asked, 'Kya chahiye Sir?' Ahh, this was the second time
he had called me 'Sir', which I didn't like. I took some bananas and fresh
oranges, paid the bill and turned to head back to my room. The moment I turned,
a lady in her 40's (yes yes 20'sЁЯШВ) just entered the shop
and I heard, "Kya Chahiye, Ma'am?"
'Sir'ing and 'Mam'ing' was humming in my mind.
The next time I went, he once again called me 'Sir'. This time I started with my usual ice-breaker question: "Where are you from?"
He replied, "Nahi sir, mai Jodhpur district se hun!" It was one more surprise! As most of the Marwari business people (not just men--ha haЁЯШБ yes, I am trying to be gender-neutral) migrated from Pali to Maharashtra in their quest to establish a good business.
As this was the 5th 'Sir'ing', I asked him, "Kaha tak padhe ho?"
He said, "Eighth tak padha hun sir."
"Padhai kyu chhodi?" I asked.
"Sir, woh karza jyada ho gaya ghar pe, toh padhai
chhod ke business karna pada!" This was the time when I found out why he
was prone to call his customers "Sir" or "Ma'am". And it
was also a shocking fact that we are almost a quarter into the 21st century,
and still in India, some children have to leave their education and earn a
livelihood for their families.
It was not that Shravan seemed unhappy with the kind of
business he was doing, but the desperation to get an education could be understood
from the kind of questions he asked me in our frequent encounters.
Once he asked, "Sir, aap kaha tak padhe ho?" I
said, "Engineer hun!"
The next question came up with a sharp tone, "Kitna
Kharcha aaya?" I said, "Bhai, ho gaya lagabhag dhai laakh laga!"
He then asked, "Abh kya kar rahe ho?"
"Mai PG-Diploma kar raha hun, ek 6-mahine ka course hai!" I replied.
"Abhi bhi kyun padh rahe ho, engineer toh ban gaye aap?" he asked.
"Thoda paisa jyada kamana hai, isliye!" I said.
"Haan sir, ye sahi baat hai! Jyada paisa kamana bahoot
jaroori hai!" he said very boldly.
It seemed like he wanted to know how and why to get an education to earn more in life. The reason I put forward this view is the kind of hard work Shravan was putting into his work. He wakes up at 4 am in the morning, goes to the market yard, brings all the stuff to sell, starts the stall at 6 in the morning, takes a break of 2 hours in noon and closes his stall at 10pm. Exactly 16 hours of work for 7 days and on weekends the demand is more as more people rush in to buy weekly grocery! Not just work but painstaking work and this kind of hard-work put in by a 17 year old boy, and he still he has the will to get more education.
I hope that we all will understand the reason behind calling him a 'man' in the title.
(and yes! you guessed it right,ЁЯШБ the title is similar to a movie called 'A man called Ovi' which is based on a novel with the same name by Fredric Backman.)
Well done Ajinkya ЁЯСН
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