Hunger

Navratras.
It’s a moment of sheer joy for someone like me, who hasn’t the chance of eating even one meal a day. I heard one lady say something about the Durga goddess, one of those days. It’s for her, said she. I would never know any better, so I decided to flaunt this new bit of knowledge I’d gained on one of my usual trips to the temple.
I live in Dwarka. For some people to whom god is just perpetually kind, this place is heaven. I have often stood outside the gates of those high buildings, higher than I can bend my neck, and looked at them longingly. No, I don’t want to be there, but just want to actually know what these people do in big houses. But before I can even try to figure that out, I am abused by the guard sitting there, who has no work except to shoo away people like me. I am a ten year old, and I have a family – a mother who lurks around temples in hope of getting some food to fill her belly and mine too. A father who has lost all will to live, but still manages to trudge up to his work place, where he has to set up bricks. I feel proud to announce it to all my friends, that my father has built the building right opposite to where all of us live.
Little do people know about where I live. Across the temple, there is a straight line of tiny huts, that’s where my house is.
I have a bigger family than that, if I think about it. After all, all the people out there, who get together every festival near the temple, are my family. I’m one of them. And that’s exactly how I remember that day.


Ashtami. My mother told me. I nodded blankly, as I ruffled my disheveled hair early in the morning. Still partly asleep, I heard her say about how we’ll have to hurry up and reach the temple gates if we have to receive prasad from all the people who come there.
That’s why Navratras were sheer joy. All those rich people would come to the temple, with delicious offerings, which for once would fill my belly. Poori, halva, and most importantly the coins in there, hidden between this luscious food. It was sure a treat, and with that thought in mind, I hurriedly went to the temple.

Many came there, and I lankily stood with bare hands, as they filled my hand with what they thought was their way of thanking god. I didn't believe in god. I mean, had he been there, why wouldn’t he do something about me?
I saw some uncles dressed in plain white kurtas, with a tilak on their heads. All my friends rushed towards them, as we knew they would have something to give us. They did, obviously. I ate some halva, as one of my friends snatched the rest of it from me. I didn't want to fight with him for such a thing, although that meant he had stolen my food away. I had few friends.

By the time it was noon, there was a huge rush at the temple. I stared at the people walking in and out of it. Some were so gaudily dressed as if god would give them extra if they dressed like that. All of them seemed so happy going inside, and so satisfied coming outside that they surprised me. I could not understand what made them so happy. Somewhere deep down I envied them, as I wasn’t as lucky with god as they were. I shrugged and turned away from the temple.

As I walked around, I spotted two women making their way towards us. They had a huge plate in hand, which meant they would be giving us something. A smile swept across my face, as I advanced towards them. On nearing them, I tried to study them both. They were mother and daughter. The daughter was pretty, and appealed more to me, more so because she had the plate in her hand. She seemed apprehensive, maybe it was the first time she had the plate in her hand. Her mother walked in an arrogant fashion, with a maroon bag in her hand. The daughter looked so nervous, so gullible in comparison.
As I was just a metre apart from them, and the girl was about to give me something, and I had stretched my hand in response, someone gave me hard push from behind. I almost fell aside, as a clan of boys, some of which were sadly my friends, surrounded the two.
I stood aside and watched.
They seemed completely helpless. The daughter seemed as if she would just cry out loud. All these ugly creatures around her, trying to snatch off the plate from her, the sight was just so captivating that I just stood there, numb.
My friend, who had snatched my food earlier that day, made his way through the crowd of boys. He almost shouted at all of them. I was glad I hadn’t fought with him. He was helping the girl after all.
“Don’t try to snatch!” he shrieked, “Stand properly; they’ll give it to you!!”

Wow, that’s what friends are for. I couldn’t believe that he’d done such a noble act. The girl gave him a grateful smile, as she handed the plate to her mother, so she could give away the prasad. She had a beautiful smile. I noticed she wore a simple pant and shirt, yet looked so enchantingly graceful. As she began to lift one plate from the many others in the huge plate, my friend pushed her out of the way, and cornered her mother.
I couldn’t believe it. I wish I had fought with him, bastard.
She tried to find her way through the street urchins, in an attempt to reach her mother, who was trying to save the plate from the wild attack. The girl finally gave up and stood at one side. I was still standing on the pavement and staring at her, when I heard a huge bang! BANG!
They had done what I never wanted them to do. The plate had fallen off, and all these idiotic boys completely ransacked its contents. The mother stood there, defeated, and so did the girl. When the boys were completely satisfied with what they’d done, they moved away, only to see the mess they had created. Bits and pieces of the holy prasad lay on the ground, while the rest of it was still in their dirty mouths.
I just couldn’t identify with this desperation among these boys. I was hungry, but not wild and biolent.
I felt disgusted, ashamed of belonging there. I just didn't want to call these insensitive beasts as my friends, as my family.
I glanced at the girl. It was as if the sight was just too much to stand for her. She held her disappointed mother by the hand and led her away, as the mother grumbled something at us.
I sprang to action. I wouldn't say sorry, but I just wanted to talk to her. Something…anything.

“Listen…” I called to her, as she walked away.
She turned, as she gave me a stern look. I don’t think she recognized me; I was the guy she wanted to give the prasad to. But no, she was just too upset.
“I…I didn't get the prasad.” I uttered, as she stopped and her mother walked ahead.
She looked at me sternly and said, “You won't get any prasad, if you drop it all on the road.”
She added as she walked away, “Never have I seen such wild creatures!”

I stood there, angry, betrayed. I didn't even do anything! Infact, all this while I had been thinking about her…and that’s what she tells me?
I gave a mean look to the temple, hoping god was looking. And then I walked away to my house. I didn't want to eat anymore.
No more was I hungry.
That had happened for the first time in my life—I wasn’t hungry…


P.S: I hereby apologise for my inexcusable irregularity in posting. I hope you will appreciate my comeback...