The Parachute
Top ‘n town, New Market is my favourite place to meet friends and then take it from there. For the uninitiated, I am talking about an Ice-cream Parlour under the open sky with all the hot boys prowling around.
This particular day I was meeting an old girl chum after about 16 years. So while I was at it, having the ice cream, checking out boys and waiting for my friend ofcourse, a too-short-for-his-age boy walked upto me.
“Didi, nada lelo.”
Now, in this corner - little boys and girls sell the cord-used-to-keep-the-pyjamas-in-place. They have mastered the profit and loss questions I tell ya. Not only they buy the cord at a cheaper price but they also charge you for, say 1 metre and give you 0.75 metre in return [without you being aware of it ofcourse].
So, this little boy was flanked by an even littler boy. I s’ppose he was still in the apprenticeship phase, learning the business from the older boy. He gave me a toothy smile, his eyes fidgeting between the ice-cream in my hand and the other kids [the well to do ones] running around excitedly. I noticed, his teeth weren’t marked by Gutkha stains, unlike his elder brother/mentor.
Suddenly he - the littler guy, sprinted south. I turned back to see him (and another bunch of cord-selling little boys) running after something white-ish floating in mid-air. Our boy got it before the rest. I felt jubilant as if I was watching the game from his side. He handed over the toy dutifully to the street vendor, selling that toy. The sense of winning over his peers his only comfort, happy that he could hold the toy for a while. Some well to-do dragged their parents to the vendor to buy.
The toy was, well, a toy-man attached to a minuscule parachute. So he would need to be catapulted and then he descended through air, slowly.
I bought the cord from the older boy, who relentlessly pestered me all this while, despite the fact I had enough cord back home to put it around a cow’s waist. I bought one toy-man for my sis (and me, come to think of it mom and dad too) and one for the littler guy.
“Madam, ye bachhe toh saara din isse khelte hi rehte hain. Aapne toh faltu main kharid diya”, a shopkeeper from a shop nearby informed me, just as I spotted my friend smiling at me from a distance.
The sun was dawning on us and in the pinkish sky floated one sparkly white parachute. Waiting beneath was a little boy, eager to ensure a safe landing of his toy in his hands. There was bounce in his feet and pride in his eyes. Didn’t the shopkeeper know? It is something else to play with others’ toys and to own one?
Later, we - my friend and I, catapulted the toy-man into the air several times by the lake, until it fell into the lake. :( I grew possessive about it then and put it safely back in my handbag.