Songs My Mother Taught Me; A Collection Of Short Stories

Rakesh

New Delhi

1996

*****

Today is a very good day.

I found some old tyre down by the bottom of the heap and it's just what I needed to mend my sandal. That alone would have made it a good day, but what makes it a VERY good day is that I found a picture too. And not just any old picture, it was a picture with the princess from mama's story.

It was so wonderful to finally meet her that I couldn't do much more than stare. The picture has a stain down one side, but I can't understand why anyone has thrown it on the rubbish heap. To have a picture of the Princess is a treasure beyond words.

It's really too big to carry alone, but somehow, I dragged it all the way home and propped it on the wall of our hut. As I fixed the hole in my sandal I tried to remember every word of the story, but it's hard without mama to tell me. It's been such a long time since I heard the story, so I just hope the Princess forgives me if I forget anything. In fact, I'm so caught up in my Princess that I almost forget my chores and I have to rush quickly to complete them, so that by the time papa comes home for dinner I've swept the floor and cooked the rice.

You can hear papa before he arrives. Swish, clunk. Swish, clunk. All the way up the road. Sometimes in the afternoon when the sun is high, I lie down away from the dust and the heat because if you're very hungry and it's too hot, a short sleep can help.
Then sometimes I'm just drifting off and I think I hear it. Swish, clunk. But it's not usually Papa, it's just the sun playing tricks on my mind, as Mama would say.

Papa sometimes comes home to eat a midday meal with me, otherwise I don't see him until long after the sun has gone down. I don't like those days because I can't eat until he comes home and I get so hungry it feels like my stomach is scraping my spine.

But now it's not even midday and there is it. Swish, clunk. I knew today was a good day.

The patched up heel of my sandal is higher than the other side, and it digs annoyingly into the bottom of my foot. By the time it's worn down enough to be comfortable, it will be time to patch the other shoe, so in that sense there is no winning and one side of you is always higher than the other. Mama always said that in this way, at least one side of you is closer to heaven, so it's best not to complain. And so I don't, I just half hop across the room to stick my head out of the hut and look for papa.

There he is. His cart swings from side to side. Last year a wheel cracked in half and the only one we could find on the heap a bit too big, so his cart is lopsided now. Papa walks with a limp and now that his cart his lopsided, I think it matches him better. He swish, clunks right up the road.

There are things on papas cart that have been there since I can remember. There's a pan with a hole burnt into the bottom that hangs at the front and a book with many pages torn out. The cover is sun bleached and it has sat proudly on top of the cart for years.

Mama told me that there was time that Papa was the only one who sold things in this area and people would come to him saying "Hey Prakash! If you can find me a stove, I'll be forever grateful!" Or "Prakash, my daughter is getting married, she needs things for her home. See what you can find and give me a good price."
Now Papa isn't the only one who has a cart and searches the rubbish heap. I have to get up earlier and earlier to get there before the other boys. Just last week a much bigger boy slapped me around the face as he took a pair of sandals I had found.

Oh now, if I think about this I am going to ruin my good day.

Papas cart stops with a jangle and heaves a great sigh and stretches as far as his curved back will allow. He doesn't speak as he sits heavily down next to me, squinting in the sunlight.