Juice, Liquor and some Questions
“Juice Pilo, Juice pilo, itni garmi me Raju ka juice pilo” exclaimed Raju.
Raju was a 15 year old juice seller. He had been to school for a few years but was then compelled to take charge of the juice thela, as his father was diagnosed with liver failure. Now Raju was the sole bread earner of the family which consisted of an ill father, old mother and three sisters.
“There is something in his speech that appeals to the people, all the tourists staying in the hotels keep coming back to Raju” said the Vegetable vendor to a beggar smoking a cigarette nearby.
“That’s true. These young boys are smarter than us” replied the beggar. The beggar once used to work as a security guard in his young days. He worked very hard and faithfully in those days, but was exploited by the company for which he worked and was never paid adequately. The extreme shortage of money pushed his family into extreme poverty. The family members were prone to so many diseases. As a result, his entire family died of one or the other disease, including his 3 year old daughter who died of malnutrition. Out of depression and anger, one day, he cut his wrist. But the neighbors took him to the hospital and his life was saved. Since then his one wrist was bandaged forever. Ever since then he begged outside the RK Ashram metro station. He apparently forgot his own name, for he was called bahdur when employed and was called lulla since he turned a beggar. This is the real scene of poverty, which alas the 1% population in our country (that controls over 53% of wealth) has absolutely no clue about.
“People love my juice; I make it tastier than any other juice makers of Delhi” said young Raju passionately, “now shift on that side a little, I want to keep my dustbin here, come on come on move lulle move” said Raju impatiently. The beggar was almost the age of Raju’s grandfather, but respect and politeness are values of rich, about which the poor have nothing to do.
“Juice Pilo, Juice pilo, itni garmi me Raju ka juice pilo” shouted Raju
The RK Ashram metro station had many hotels in its vicinity, and hence it would be flooded with people almost all the time. Raju was the youngest and hence one of the most energetic juice sellers who would attract people by shouting, asking them to drink his fruit juice. He was a thin fellow, his hairstyle resembled the Salman khan of tere naam and he also wore a Salman style loose bracelet on his right hand. With the gift of his gab, he used to attract maximum customers and earn maximum in comparison to all the vendors of tea, snacks and even a pan-wala nearby.
Like the value of being polite, Jealousy is also a trait of the rich. Poor people feel happy in each other’s success. Nobody would feel jealous of Raju, moreover the elders would boost him up frequently and would bless him that he shall soon have a big shop of juice well equipped with all amenities. Raju would feel elated and bring in more energy to his work. He loved to be at his thela because of the satisfaction and encouragement he received there. At home, his elder sister used to cook food and look after their ill father. The two younger sisters would study with the support of Raju’s earning. He himself wasn’t intelligent in studies but loved going to school. Raju had mentally resolved that he would never touch liquor. As he felt that he wasn’t able to complete his schooling because of his father, who had turned into a drunkard. However, he loved to be at his thela, where he was free from all the sadness of his family.
One day, Raju had to attend a nature’s call urgently.
“lulle, where is the toilet nearby?”
“There is not one nearby. Go to the metro station. There is one inside” replied the beggar while smoking his bidi.
“What?” asked Raju surprisingly, “I have never been there. I am afraid, so many people come out from that gate, isn’t there any other public toilet around?”
“No there isn’t” replied the beggar
Raju was so worried that he controlled his urge to pee and didn’t go to the toilet in the metro. While making juice he gazed at the gate of metro station many times in the day, but couldn’t muster the enough courage to go to the metro station. After a few days he again had the sudden urge to attend a nature’s call. There was no point in asking anyone. He kept it up to his own self. He thought and thought and pondered upon the same issue. However, after an hour he finally mustered enough courage and decided to go. It still took him 10 minutes to move his feet.
“I hope nothing happens after going there” asked Raju to the vegetable vendor.
“No Raju nothing happens, just remember don’t speak unnecessarily with the strangers. Do your work and come back, simple” replied the vendor.
Raju began moving towards the metro station, with the pace of his legs slowing down as he neared the gate. Just after climbing the first few steps he could feel the coolness of the Air Conditioner. His heart was thumping very fast, he was so nervous that he forgot the reason of coming inside. The poor child went to the corner and paused for a moment, suddenly remembering the purpose. He didn’t look anywhere as he was already mystified by the large number of people coming from and going in all the directions. He collided with a few people, but kept looking down and walked only in the straight direction. Surprisingly he found himself getting inside the toilet. Many times in life, we reach the right place without even knowing it, maybe by matter of pure luck. Anyway that day Raju felt extremely light, it was his best toilet moment! He then quickly rushed back to his thela. Thus he had accomplished a big task and felt as if he had won a battle.
“Juice Pilo, Juice pilo, itni garmi me Raju ka juice pilo” Raju shouted enthusiastically.
Raju was now familiar with the Station, he thought he had over imagined everything and it was quite normal to go inside the station. Next morning he again had a nature’s call, but this time he wasn’t afraid and quickly decided to go. Still the mere hundred meter distance took him ten minutes. Raju was a typical village boy who had not seen much of the city. Up till that day, his life was confined to his home and his school, which were both located in the outskirts of the city. At a young age, he was exposed to the mighty world of business and had to earn money, had to deal with people of all types and all moods and had to be smart so as to no one would be able to cheat him. How much could a little mind take in?
This time he observed everything carefully inside the station and walked slowly. Raju was stunned with the infrastructure inside, the security men with the guns, some big computerized machines and a lot of lighting and cool air inside, something that he had never seen either in his school or at his home. He was flabbergasted. All was well until he had noticed the machines; things became critical when he began observing people.
Standing in a corner his jaws dropped when he looked at a group of young boys and girls moving together. “How can boys and girl walk together?” he wondered. He then saw a boy of his age, well dressed hair properly cut and combed with a watch on his hand, not wearing a bracelet. Raju then minutely examined the hands of all the boys of his age, but nobody wore a bracelet like his. “Oh my god, how must I be looking wearing this bracelet!” he wondered, and removed his bracelet to put it in his pocket, which he decided to never wear in the future. He even noticed the people’s hairstyles and was puzzled to see several hairstyles- none like Tere Naam! He then straightway went to the bathroom and then back to his thela. He felt dismayed and was not in a good mood, he was deeply thinking something, but he didn’t know what.
“Juice Pilo, Juice pilo, itni gar…” murmured Raju “Juice pilo Juice” his voice very low. Dry and deadly his voice had no spark. Dull and tedious his eyes had lots of questions. Raju was a small child with a little understanding of the world; he didn’t like to go inside the metro station but kept visiting it twice in a day, just to observe the people inside. He knew it would sadden him, he knew he would spoil his mood but Raju would still go inside.
He occasionally found young boys holding a red and yellow cup with the symbol M printed in yellow color. “What must be inside that cup? How would it taste? How much would it cost?”
Almost all the people had a white hands free hanging on their necks. “What an interesting cable that is, everyone seems to possess it!”
All the beautiful girls seemed to move with those boys that wore a pair of black goggles. “I wish I could buy these pair of goggles, they are so amazing.”
The ladies and the men, everyone had either shining shoes, or some decent pair of sandals below their feet. “I wear such dirty pair of chappals, what would people be thinking about me.”
“These people smell so good, they look so clean, and they wear their clothes so perfectly. Oh god, this is life! This is happiness. This is everything.” Raju would keep talking to himself about all these things. He was so much swallowed up by this vicious circle that he couldn’t think beyond it. He no more enjoyed making juice; hence he didn’t make extra efforts in selling it. He was extremely frustrated and his brain couldn’t digest the disparity between his lifestyle and that of the metro commuters. One day on reaching home, he found all the neighbors surrounding his home. On sensing the seriousness of the situation, he quickly enquired and what he heard completely shattered him.
“Your sister was on her way back from the grocery store when she was…. She was molested by a group of… they stood there with their car and bikes parked… but by god’s grace she escaped and reached home safely” spoke an old lady hesitatingly. The boy cracked down, when he watched his sister crying. His father lay on the bed emotionless and his mother wept loudly. All the efforts to calm them were in vain. In the evening when Raju went with his friends he stared at the group of those boys from a distance. He was not of big physique nor was he a short tempered fellow who could teach a lesson to those boys. Raju was angered, his head was boiling but the rage found its way not by action or bad words but in the form of tears. He was helpless. Even his older friends denied helping him in teaching a lesson to the boys, as one of the boys was the son of a builder under whom most of the parents of Raju’s friends worked. He was already feeling worthless in this world and after looking at the posh, rich guys smoking cigars, his confidence was shaken to the core and he gave up. That night, out of this frustration a disturbed Raju accompanied his older friends to the highway. With his group of friends he lifted the bottle of liquor and emptied the half of it at one go.
“This world revolves only around the spoiled rich people” screamed Raju completely unaware of what he was saying, “Why do they have money? Why don’t we have money? What makes them rich? What makes us poor? What gives them the power to even look at my sister?”
“These rich people are lousy pieces of shit” replied another, equally unconscious.
“They are rich only by of the virtue of their birth. I work more than any of these bastards at my thela, yet I am poor” spoke Raju angrily.
Despite knowing that his father had lost everything due to the bottle, despite being aware of the ill effects, despite being conscious of the promise he had made to himself, yet he lifted the bottle and put it back on the ground- empty. This became a norm. With passage of time he got addicted to liquor and one day the police caught hold of the entire group, Raju being the youngest among them. They were guilty of stopping a car passing by and were booked for oral abuse to the driver, who incidentally happened to be a government official. The entire group was locked up for a night. Raju was innocent, he used to be with the group only for liquor, and what can a fifteen year boy do otherwise? However Raju found himself in a big trouble and was sitting in the corner of the jail with a dreadful face. Meanwhile, Ishan’s sight fell upon this young boy. Ishan was a young reporter working for a leading daily. He was quite famous in the city for his reporting and for the stories he wrote. He was in the police station for reporting the story, but what shocked him a little was the presence of an innocent looking boy inside the jail. Being a regular visitor to the police station, he knew the inspector well, hence Ishan managed to get Raju out for a chat. Ishan very compassionately talked to Raju and closely understood what he had been through.
Ishan was deeply touched on knowing Raju’s condition and most importantly the thoughts of Raju. Ishan spent a sleepless night; he would constantly be reminded of how Raju had turned into a drunkard, frustrated by the increasing divide between rich and the poor. Ishan realized that the force that corrupted the mind of Raju was a major one and its roots lie very deep. It irked Ishan so much so that he couldn’t think anything beyond Raju and his story.
Apart from being a journalist Ishan was also a part of an NGO, which comprised of several entrepreneurs, businessmen, key government officials and few eminent political personalities. Ishan was to attend the NGO’s annual meeting two days later. He thought that it was the best place to share his thoughts and seek some ideas from there.
The huge audience comprised of one thousand people, the hall was jam packed, and Ishan stood up to speak. He had been given a slot on the special recommendation from the editor of the newspaper he used to work for. It was only on the day of the meeting that Ishan realized that even the CM was to grace the occasion. He was a little nervous and totally blank as to what the reaction of people would be to his words.
Honorable CM, Respected dignitaries on the dais, distinguished guests and my dear friends.
Well in the coming ten days we will be celebrating 70 years of our independence. India has come a long way isn’t it, from 12% literacy rate to 74.04%, from an average life span of 32 years to 68 years, but is that it? Ladies and gentlemen let me present to you the case of a fifteen year old juice seller outside RK Metro Station- Raju. The story of young Raju is a story of every little mind, it’s a story of inferiority complex, and it’s a story of numerous questions brewing in the minds of various such young Rajus. The most difficult and probably unanswerable question being, Is it my fault that I was born in a poor family?
We as a progressive society may boast about giving equal opportunities to all, but that’s not true. Even in today’s world, Biological Determination is a big factor in deciding someone’s fate.
Junaid Khan was returning home after offering his EID prayers and was lynched by the mob in the train. If junaid would have been a son of Shahrukh Khan (i.e. Aryan Khan), would he have been lynched? The perpetrators would probably have clicked photos with him and posted on Facebook. It wasn’t junaid’s fault that he wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
Abhinav Bindra won the first individual gold medal for India in the Beijing Olympics. On the insistence of his father, he was extensively trained in Germany under the supervision of foreign coaches. If Abhinav would not have been born to Mr. Apjit Bindra, an extremely rich person, and if he would have been born in Faridkot in Pakistan to the poor Amir Shahban Kasab (father of Ajmal Kasab), he would still be remembered in India for his shooting skills, but unfortunately for some another reason.
If Mark Zuckerberg would have been born in a village in Lucknow, then he would still have hacked the computer system of (say) Tripathi Engineering College. But as a punishment, he would have been suspended. In response, he probably would have founded a Student Union instead, to oppose the move of college authorities and would never have founded Facebook. But fortunately Mark was raised in US and was opportune enough to study at Harvard.
People consider Arnab Goswami as an asset to our nation, because he is a fearless speaker and withers away everyone with his speech. Thank god Arnab was born in an Army family in India, because if he would have been born in a poor household in PoK, then his nationalistic words may have brain washed a number of young Pakistanis to take up arms against India.
American Nobel laureate and great philosopher, John Rawls rightfully said,
“Equality is always just.
Inequality needs justification”
The mind of young Raju was seeking reasons for his being poor. He first thought it was the lack of education that deprived him of all the luxuries, but with the passage of time he realized that many spoilt brats that owned several hotels near his thela were equally uneducated. They just did one ‘noble’ thing- took birth in a rich family, and inherited all the happiness in life. To convince Raju, to mend his mind, to restore his confidence was not an easy task. Yet Ishan was fighting for his cause and he continued,
The place of birth is an important even today and virtue of birth does hold huge significance.
Two Mukesh were born in the 20th century. One inherited a big empire- Reliance Industries. And the other, Mukesh Singh (the prime accused in the Nirbhaya rape case), ended up in Tihar Jail because of the Nirbhaya Case.
There exists two worlds, two INDIAs and there exists two DELHIs, one outside the RK Metro station and one inside. The irony is that they both exist together. Ladies and gentlemen, the 15 year old Raju was unable to believe this paradox of our society. India is the 2nd most unequal country in the world. It would have been ok, if we were a nation of rich people, it would also be fine, if we were a poor nation with the entire population toiling in poverty. But sadly we are a country with both- a ‘class’ of rich people and a ‘mass’ of poor people. And there lies the root of all our problems.
The audience of the meeting was totally taken aback. All eyes were fixated on Ishan. Everyone was sitting motion less. The CM looked very impressed.
People like Raju who refuse to accept the high disparity between the rich and the poor, often get on a wrong track and are pushed into consuming liquor, drugs and get themselves indulged in criminal activities. Their mind would not accept a boy and a girl roaming hand in hand, they would feel that their poverty was their weakness, they would feel they are not loved, they would feel that the rich have all the pleasures, they would feel unempowered and hence rapists like Mukesh take birth and daughters like Nirbhaya die.
India gives immense importance to its GDP. What matters to us the most is our economic growth. We as a country wish to grow as an economy, so our citizens too wish to grow as an economy. Hence the ruling class is the one with the money so naturally everyone in our society wants money. It creates an atmosphere that equates happiness with money. But money is something that only the rich have. Even if ‘you’ work hard and ‘you’ become rich, your next generation will automatically be rich. And they will be rich simply by the virtue of their birth. Wealth is hereditary; one would inherit a hotel, while the other a juice thela; this is not at all acceptable to Raju’s mind. How do we answer Raju? How do we explain millions like Raju? How do we explain this to India’s future?
We must ensure that our society is not driven by money. Because a child is choice less, her birth is not a matter of her choice, so let ‘birth’ not decide anybody’s future. Let us build a society that has equal opportunities for all. Let us build a just society where merits, talent and hardwork earn you hapiness and not a few pieces of paper.
Thank you. Thank you very much. Jai hind.
People gave a standing ovation to Ishan. He was appreciated for his speech. The CM was very happy observing the sensitivity of a young journalist and declared Ishan’s inclusion in the new think tank formulated by the Delhi Government. Also, the NGO decided to fund the education of Raju. That was the happiest day for Ishan; moreover it was a life changing day for Raju. Ishan personally made sure that Raju completed his studies. He used to go and meet him frequently. Ishan also managed to arrange for funds so that the family of Raju did not have to suffer because of his education. After few years Raju completed his college. Raju had grown up now and moreover had moved on from his past. Ishan insisted that Raju sat for the GRADE D examination of Delhi Government. Ishan was like a god to Raju, whatever he was, was just because of Ishan. Had he not seen him inside the jail back then, the life of Raju would have completely taken a different turn. Since there was no question of denying that, Raju readily agreed to the advice of Ishan and worked hard for the exam. Raju attempted the exam and fortunately also cleared it. He went with the offer letter to Ishan.
“Ishan Bhaiya, I cleared the Exam. Thank you so much. Thank you so much for everything. You lifted me out of the hell” said Raju
“That’s great; this is really great news. Your life is now permanently set. Congratulations Raju. I am so happy for you” exclaimed Ishan.
Raju smiled back. His eyes were deeply thankful to Ishan for so much help in the past few years. But he was silent, neither crying out of fulfillment nor laughing out of happiness. He just stood there with a smile on his face.
“What happened Raju? Why are you so emotionless?”
Raju didn’t say anything, he handed to Ishan his offer letter.
Ishan read it and put it back in the cover, unable to say anything. He simply smiled.
It read…
Clerk,
Ticket Counter number 3,
RK Ashram Metro station,
Delhi.