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Nandu - my first short story

For five year old Nandu, his father was an exclusive repository of trust and mother an epitome of love. Amidst poverty he was happy and felt secured. Very soon, a blow came and shattered Nandu’s dream world. It was a minor incident for adults but a catastrophe for this sensitive child.

He was enamored by small beautiful marbles. He saw some children playing with them and instantly liked them. Young mind overworked “red - the most favorite, purple, blue, green and yellow also”. He made his choice in his mind. But there were problems. This traditional joint family had plethora of dos and don’ts. Playing with glass marbles was a taboo, a below dignity act, recipe for waywardness of youngsters. Young Nandu tried to ascertain the reasons for restriction. Once unable to elicit a satisfactory explanation he embarked upon his own plan. With his pocket money he purchased glass marbles.

Now both of his hands were full of his choicest marbles and still there were some left to be picked up. “You keep them you can also play” said Nandu graciously to the shopkeeper. Now he had all the happiness in the world. Mirth on his face, gaiety in walk, marbles in hands, he went dancing his way back to home. He went straight to his mother. She looked at the two small hands full of marbles, paused for a moment and turned away her head. “Oh! She must be very busy” so thought little Nandu. Too happy to be disheartened and unable to hold good news to himself he went to his aunt to flaunt his treasure of marbles. Her hostility was instantaneous. In her piercing voice she announced to everybody the misfortune which is going to fall on this hitherto cultured family. “Kids will play with marbles? Like ordinary low class people!? You will destroy the ancestral culture and respect of this family” she accused Nandu’s mother. In no time the whole atmosphere was filled with shrill loud voices. Internal bickering of the joint family came to the fore abruptly. There were accusations and counter accusations. Nandu was bewildered, confused. To seek support he approached his grandmother but he was taken aback. She tried to grab the marbles. Nandu ran. And he saw many adult hands approaching him, menacing and intimidating. Holding the marbles against his chest with both his hands he ran from one place to other with his full might. Now his run was not limited to the protection of marbles. He ran to defend his fledgling self esteem; his evolving faith is fair play and reasoning.

Soon, grandmother’s experience showed an easier way out. “Call his father. He will tackle him” she said.  Immediately Nandu’s father was summoned and suitably instructed. Child Nandu heaved a sigh of relief. At last there was a person whom he trusted. He felt secured and saw a ray of hope. The grip on marbles became loose and posture relaxed. “What do you have? Show me. I will solve your problem.” His father said convincingly. Nandu trusted him fully so he agreed to show the marbles. “Put them on the ground” father said.  Nandu hesitated. He knew that by putting the marbles on ground he will loose control over them. So he demanded assurance “You will not take them. Do you promise?” “Yes” said his father. “True?” Nandu wanted confirmation. “Yes my dear. Don’t you trust me?” his father said in soft and convincing tone. Nandu placed all the marbles on uneven ground. And then came the blow shattering Nandu. All the marbles started rolling helter skelter. His father laughed victoriously and picked all the marbles before Nandu could react. Nandu was dazed. “My marbles” he said. “No more” a harsh reply came. For the first time Nandu found his father’s smile unattractive, his laughter nauseating, and his eyes demonic. None could catch him running and now the only person he trusted had betrayed him.  With hurt and pain evident in his voice he yelled “Traitor …..You betrayed, dishonest, coward ……” Before he could finish he was jolted again – a slap from his mother. “Behave” she growled. The second blow was more damaging. After father, he lost his mother too. She cannot be trusted anymore, for her, father is more important than Nandu. Nandu was no more interested in marbles. His world was in pieces now. Everyone in the family was satisfied, for pride of the family was restored. Lonely Nandu kept sitting till late, in a corner, trying to figure out his place in family vis-à-vis others.

Decades have lapsed since then. Nandu is still alone, all alone, trying to recollect his broken self and in the process crumbling further and further.