The Pani Puri Boy

That was the day I decided on visiting my grand parents in Gudiwada after getting an american visa and before flying to US for the first time....

The far end of Platform number 3 in secunderabad was spotted with a good number of passengers who were waiting for the door of the unreserved compartment to be opened. There was enough time for the Bangalore express to depart, but people were already waiting in large numbers to get into the general compartment.
It was 6’O clock in the evening and the door was opened and within no time all the seats were occupied by the passengers.
I got myself into one of those single seats, keeping in my mind that I haven’t have to share it with anybody else.
The seat opposite to me was occupied by a boy, about 13 years old.
He was lean, had unkempt hair and wore dirty clothes. He kept spitting out of the window in the way only few people can.
He looked reckless and kept humming some peppy mass numbers from the tollywood.
“Ekkadki pothunnav akka?” was something I did not expect.
“Gudiwada” I replied in very short sentences in order not to continue the conversation.
“Poddunna enta timeki eltam aadki?” he kept the conversation going.
“Poddunna 6 avutundi” This time I replied more inattentively.
He had a worried look at his 30Rs electronic watch and bore an expression of calculating something.

The train left sec'bad by 9’O Clock and the general compartment was already teeming with passengers.
A few of them settled in the aisle and a few others, who felt it rather undignified to do the same, tried to ask for a share in the seats.
I saw one such passenger, an obese 45 year old man, approaching my seat. I tried not to look at him, fearing that I have to share my seat with him.
The boy in my front did not think twice before offering his seat to him. I pitied the boy, for the man, almost occupied the whole seat.
The boy then slipped underneath the seats, to get himself into a sleep. He struggled to get any sleep as it was not so comfortable.
He returned into his first position, this time almost on the edge of the seat, for the man already occupied the whole seat.
I somehow felt bad on part of the boy, but he did not even have such a feeling towards the man he shared the seat with.
“Ye oorra needi?’, The obese man queried the boy.
“Madi yijayawada. Nenu Hyderabad lo pani jesta” replied the boy.
“Yem panira?”, the old man continued.
“Pani puri ammuta saar.” The boy announced proudly.
“Yentostundira rojuki??” the old man kept asking questions like a lawyer.
“Rojuki yaabhai roopayalostai” the boy told him with a sheepish smile.

“Water bottles…aa water bottles..aa thanda thanda water bottles..” the water vendor managed to maneuver the crowd in the compartment,
shouting in a typical railway Jargon. I was not particularly impressed with his management skills but was forced to buy one water bottle for having not planned
to get my own bottle from home. The boy bought a bottle for himself.
“12 rs per liter”, I felt like cursing the finance minister for such outrageous price tags for commodities which we can’t live without.
“Eamma, konchem neellu istava??” I was brought back into this world by some voice.
Before I could say yes or no, the Boy offered him, his bottle.

The train stopped at some station and they said that it won’t stop for more than 2 minutes. The train will not stop for the next 2 hours and anybody who had to have something for dinner had to quickly run along the platform and get some Tiffin. The boy wanted to eat something too. I agreed to get him something and managed to scurry across the platform to get us two plates of Idly.
I wan hungry enough to ignore the quality of the Idlies. It was when a few more people entered the bogie there were a few kids in them. The Pani Puri boy ate one idly and when he saw the kids looking at the Idlies avariciously, offered them the rest.
I was shocked to see his action, because he knows that he will not get anything to eat for sometime.

Even after the obese man got down at some XYZ station, he did not stop offering his seat to the kids around him.
He chatted with them and joked around with everybody.
The boy smiled at every other person and shared whatever he had.
He did not think about anything beyond one day in future.
He did not complain peevishly about anything.
My opinions about the boy started to change rapidly.
I suddenly realized that we have to learn so many things from this young Pani Puri boy.
He looked like a young Buddha to me.

He taught many of us who earn a 1000 times more than him and yet find it difficult to be happy for even one minute.
He taught many others who search for happiness everywhere else in the world, that it is within us.
He taught me the true meaning of life is to love everybody and to share whatever is possible for you.

I sincerely thank the Pani Puri boy for the lessons he taught.