How I Taught My Grandmother to Read and other Stories by Sudha Murty

How I Taught My Grandmother to Read and other Stories by Sudha Murty

Author:Sudha Murty
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788184759013
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2015-01-12T05:00:00+00:00


The son consoled his father. ‘Father, don’t worry. For the welfare of others, I controlled my own pain.’

I don’t know how true this story is, but in my sister’s and her colleagues’ dedication to their work, I thought I saw a glimpse of the sacrifices people in the medical profession make.

A Journey Through the Desert

Till a few years back, I did not have a driver, and used to drive everywhere myself. The petrol bunk where I filled petrol from had a service station beside it. Some Saturdays, I would take my car to that service station and stay there until it was serviced. There were two boys, perhaps fourteen years of age, who worked there. They were identical twins. One was called Ram and the other one was Gopal. They were very poor and did not go to school, yet they could speak many languages.

Though Bangalore is the capital of Karnataka, Kannada is not the only language spoken here. There are many people who have come from outside the state and settled in this beautiful city, hence Bangalore has become very cosmopolitan. These boys had met many people during their work in the station and so could speak Kannada, which was their mother tongue, and also Tamil, Telugu and Hindi. Ram and Gopal worked as errand boys. They were always very cheerful and everyone liked them.

The servicing of my car used to take about two hours. The boys would bring a chair for me and I would sit under the shade of a tree and read some books.

Over a period of time I became friendly with them and they told me about their life. They did not have a father. Their mother worked as a labourer. They stayed in a nearby slum with their uncle. They had studied up to class four but then had to drop out as they were too poor. There was nobody who could guide and teach them at home. Though the salary at the service station was not much, they got free breakfast and lunch and sometimes some small tips from the car owners. They had no fixed working hours. They came around eight in the morning and went home only by 8 p.m. Sunday was the only holiday they got.

In spite of all the difficulties they faced, these kids were always smiling. They never said no or grumbled about any work they were told to do. I have seen children in many well-off families with grumpy faces and no happiness. If you ask them to do any work they give hundreds of reasons to avoid it. I suppose happiness does not depend on the amount of money in the bank.

I used to really like these two boys for their enthusiasm. Once in a while I took snacks and some old shirts for them. They took the clothes with great joy, as if they were made of silk. But I never saw them wear those clothes. If I asked, they said, ‘Madam, we always wear dirty clothes to work, because at the station they become greasy.



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