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The toy seller
When I was in Delhi..., Okay wait. You people might be thinking why am I always stuck in Delhi. Delhi is like a piece of my heart. Now back to the point... When I went to Delhi for the first time, the time before my parents shifted to the family quarters alloted to the military men, we stayed in a small big room. Don't get confused because I said 'small big room', it was indeed one. Our kitchen, our bedroom, our T.V room, our dining room everything was confined to that small big room. We were five in number, my mom, father, grandma, grandpa and myself. Not even once we felt any discomfort, it was a peaceful and happy place.
Though I said it was a happy place, it was a little boring for an eight year old girl who had no friends until the entry of 'him'. Yes, he is the hero of this story. The one who gifted me 'n' number of gifts. The one who never expected anything back in return. I would forget anything about Delhi but not this man, not his face, not his smile, not his small dark room adorned with toys. Seriously I don't remember the day I met him for the first and last time but I do remember the days he made my happy. Our home, that small big room which we call our home was in the middle of a busy street, that is one of the reasons why my mom never allowed me to go out. I was permitted to stand in front of the gate whenever my family members were around.
One day, while I was standing at the gate, looking those lucky children who were allowed to play and eat the multicoloured ice bar (which I haven't tasted till now and believed to be extinct, something that looked like a Christmas tree and I still have no idea what it was) I saw a dark coloured man in his 60s, wearing a dull white shirt and black pants coming to the direction of my home. I was afraid I took a step back, thinking that man would kidnap me. He came, took a small key from his pocket and opened a small dark room which was attached to our building. Till then I didn't know there was such a room, may be I wouldn't have noticed and that's why I was so surprised to see that man opening the room. I watched him curiously and of course carefully because who knows he won't take me inside and lock me there (thought of an eight year old girl who was taught to be afraid of strangers). I also made sure that my mom was standing right behind me.
After sometime he came out and handed me a rectangular shaped transparent plastic box. I saw some miniature type plastic toys inside that, I understood that it was something to play but I hesitated to buy that because of two reasons: 1. What if he is trying to trick me?! 2. and the most important is my mom would kill me right there if I buy things from strangers. I looked at my mom first, she smiled and nodded, which means permission granted. So I took that box and opened it. It was the plastic kitchen toys with spoons, gas stove, plates and all. I was happy because I got something different to play with. What else do an eight year old need to be happy! You can feel my happiness if you have ever received some toys unexpectedly at the most wanted time.
From the next day onwards, I started standing in front of the gate waiting for the toy uncle and that had became a habit. Suddenly one day he stopped showing up. I don't know from where he came but I kept looking for him in the same direction he came last time. Whenever I got a chance to be at the gate or in the terrace my eyes searched for him only. And then one day he showed up again and gave me a big balloon not the one we get two blow up, that was for the first time I got 'a different balloon'. It was dark red in colour. One of my neighbour kids saw me playing with that ball, she also joined me and she was my first friend I had in Delhi (though I don't remember her name but I do remember her face and her long hair that with a nice Khushboo). She was infact my door to another group of friends.
Next day I got a gun, another plastic boxes with hospital equipments and so many other good stuffs. Some days he used to ask me which gift I wanted but being a kid who knows only malayalam and English (barely), I couldn't reply but my mom told me about that later. After some days he disappeared like as usual but this time he didn't come back. I asked my mom several times but she said he shiftee to some other place but I didn't see him taking the stuffs (cause you know my eyes were fully on the toys). Days passed, weeks passed and he didn't come and I went back to Kerala.
It's been years but I do remember him, the way he made me happy expecting nothing back not even a heartfelt thanks. I never spoke to him. When you ask me what do I miss the most the man or toys, that time I would have said of course the toys and what else. Now I don't even have words to explain how thankful I am for making me happy, for bringing new friends indirectly. I still have his face on my mind while writing this. Those people like him are rare, like what we are told in childhood about angels who bring happiness to children. I wonder where he had gone to, may be to make some other kid happy!
© athmasakhi
Though I said it was a happy place, it was a little boring for an eight year old girl who had no friends until the entry of 'him'. Yes, he is the hero of this story. The one who gifted me 'n' number of gifts. The one who never expected anything back in return. I would forget anything about Delhi but not this man, not his face, not his smile, not his small dark room adorned with toys. Seriously I don't remember the day I met him for the first and last time but I do remember the days he made my happy. Our home, that small big room which we call our home was in the middle of a busy street, that is one of the reasons why my mom never allowed me to go out. I was permitted to stand in front of the gate whenever my family members were around.
One day, while I was standing at the gate, looking those lucky children who were allowed to play and eat the multicoloured ice bar (which I haven't tasted till now and believed to be extinct, something that looked like a Christmas tree and I still have no idea what it was) I saw a dark coloured man in his 60s, wearing a dull white shirt and black pants coming to the direction of my home. I was afraid I took a step back, thinking that man would kidnap me. He came, took a small key from his pocket and opened a small dark room which was attached to our building. Till then I didn't know there was such a room, may be I wouldn't have noticed and that's why I was so surprised to see that man opening the room. I watched him curiously and of course carefully because who knows he won't take me inside and lock me there (thought of an eight year old girl who was taught to be afraid of strangers). I also made sure that my mom was standing right behind me.
After sometime he came out and handed me a rectangular shaped transparent plastic box. I saw some miniature type plastic toys inside that, I understood that it was something to play but I hesitated to buy that because of two reasons: 1. What if he is trying to trick me?! 2. and the most important is my mom would kill me right there if I buy things from strangers. I looked at my mom first, she smiled and nodded, which means permission granted. So I took that box and opened it. It was the plastic kitchen toys with spoons, gas stove, plates and all. I was happy because I got something different to play with. What else do an eight year old need to be happy! You can feel my happiness if you have ever received some toys unexpectedly at the most wanted time.
From the next day onwards, I started standing in front of the gate waiting for the toy uncle and that had became a habit. Suddenly one day he stopped showing up. I don't know from where he came but I kept looking for him in the same direction he came last time. Whenever I got a chance to be at the gate or in the terrace my eyes searched for him only. And then one day he showed up again and gave me a big balloon not the one we get two blow up, that was for the first time I got 'a different balloon'. It was dark red in colour. One of my neighbour kids saw me playing with that ball, she also joined me and she was my first friend I had in Delhi (though I don't remember her name but I do remember her face and her long hair that with a nice Khushboo). She was infact my door to another group of friends.
Next day I got a gun, another plastic boxes with hospital equipments and so many other good stuffs. Some days he used to ask me which gift I wanted but being a kid who knows only malayalam and English (barely), I couldn't reply but my mom told me about that later. After some days he disappeared like as usual but this time he didn't come back. I asked my mom several times but she said he shiftee to some other place but I didn't see him taking the stuffs (cause you know my eyes were fully on the toys). Days passed, weeks passed and he didn't come and I went back to Kerala.
It's been years but I do remember him, the way he made me happy expecting nothing back not even a heartfelt thanks. I never spoke to him. When you ask me what do I miss the most the man or toys, that time I would have said of course the toys and what else. Now I don't even have words to explain how thankful I am for making me happy, for bringing new friends indirectly. I still have his face on my mind while writing this. Those people like him are rare, like what we are told in childhood about angels who bring happiness to children. I wonder where he had gone to, may be to make some other kid happy!
© athmasakhi
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