Zorawar Singh the Sewadar

The previous Saturday, after a back breaking day in my workplace heading  back to my home with my friend  with whom l do car pool, l checked my phone as usual the moment l sat in her car. There was a missed call from one of my friends.  I called her back while sitting in the car in order not to forget to reply back later on. She invited me the following day at 10 a.m.at the Gurudwara near her residence in Sunderpur village  for Sukhmani Sahib path and later Langar that her family had arranged, for sharing the joy of a child of theirs who had come from Canada after almost four years. I promised her of my presence and just moved on with my routine. 

But , the next morning a bomb was as if dropped on me when my house help called to inform that she won't be turning up for the next two days. I got alarmed. The most dreaded situation for me throughout my life has been managing the household chores without help. Washing utensils in the kitchen is the one and only work that doesn't ail me. The thought of cooking two breakfasts,  two lunches and two dinners gave me bodyaches in advance. I tried a few available options at hand but on that Sunday morning nothing seemed to work for me. The only time l love cooking is when it is for my children. Anyhow, life is mostly like this it throws us into the situations we don't wish to be in.

Without wasting any further time in crying and cribbing about my battle ahead with the kitchen wares, l decided to deal with the works in hand one on one. Initiating the tasks with my favorite task i.e. cleaning utensils, from 7 a.m. till 9:30 a.m. l was busy with accomplishing my chores and was extremely exhausted because of not being accustomed of doing that much work. At around  ten l remembered that l was supposed to attend the path at my friend's place. Since, she lived in village and l knew noone except her l called to enquire from one of our common friends about when she would be reaching there. She informed me that she was out of station and won't be able to accompany  while her two pretty daughters one who is in class XII and other in VI were coming to grace the occasion. I made up my mind to skip the holy path and straighten up my aching back. 

I had almost dozed off when my friend  called me again to enquire aboutwhen l would be reaching her village.  It was already 11:30 a.m. by then and l told her that by the time l will get ready path would be over and that l was feeling  feverish after accomplishing a lot many tasks due to absence of my maid. None of my excuses were entertained and she gave me an ultimatum to be ready within ten minutes  and declared that her twenty years old son was coming to pick me. I pointed it out to her about what the people would say that while l had missed the path l was there to have prestine Langar. She convinced me by saying that only fortunate can get to eat Langar.

I got ready and reached the Gurudwara and noticed that the path was already over and Langar was being served and people  were sitting in rows on neat mats spread on the floor and were being served.  I went inside the Gurudwara and noticed my other friend's daughters sitting shyly in a corner. I bowed down and prayed for the well being of my children  and joined the girls.

After fifteen minutes or so my friend summoned three of us to come out and have Prasad. We sat on the floor and l noticed a ten or eleven years old Sikh boy giving his hand with a lot of zeal in service. He was serving pickle. His clothes were shabby in contrast to the bright smile that adorned his childish face. The life of want and need that he was dealing with was evident from  his attires. After Langar my friend asked me and my friend's daughters to sit inside the Gurudwara for some more time until she finished attending rest of her guests. This time when l entered the holy place l saw there were many balloons spread in the corners and on the walls, all cool blue in shade. The color of balloons was mingling well with the serene atmosphere inside. I was lost in prayers in my heart when l saw that ten years old Sikh Sewadar inside. Meanwhile the Granthi, the caretaker of that Gurudwara  and one  another female attendant who lived nearby also came indoors. The Granthi in his soulful pious tone told the boy and the two girls sitting near me to take balloons with them and asked them to distribute a few to all the children who were outside. The small boy sat in a corner surrounded with balloons smiling towards us.l being a teacher couldn't help notice that lively child and waved towards him. He reciprocated with a wave and following my signal came and sat next to me.

He took the two girls to be my daughters and commented that while l loved pickle and took that  twice why the two of them had refused.  I began to laugh at his cute observation. Though l didn't bother to tell him that my children were quite grown ups and seven seas far from me. I questioned him if he knew who all took pickle and who didn't.  He nodded that he didn't.He said he thought if l had two of them should also eat. 

I asked him about his class. As if quiet eager to introduce himself  he told me that he was in fifth class and he was named Zorawar Singh and that it is the name of one of Guru Gobind Singh's sons. He told me that he studied in the middle school of his village  and that he was very fond of studies. I told him that l am a teacher. He smiled and commented that his present teacher is very good and that previous one used to beat children. When l questioned him how many siblings he had . First he confused me by counting all his cousins as his real ones . At times he said he had three brothers and two sisters. Then he himself would get confused and change the number. When l queried about real ones then he innocently blurted that his one brother and sister are from his paternal aunt and one brother from his paternal uncle. To that innocent child as if concept of cousins wasn't introduced which due to my stupid worldly wisdom, that knows only me and mine l introduced.  Later on , though l realized that in the present  world where warmth is entirely missing even in blood relations l shouldn't have put that concept of real and cousin in that undefiled mind. But, then it was too late to repent.

I was talking to the boy when Granthi ji said to me lauding that boy that he was blessed by the Almighty Himself and that he came without failure every morning at four in the Gurudwara for service and every evening as well, and that he never ever refused to do any work. I was so much amazed with the little service man. I advised him to work hard in studies and enquired him further if his siblings also came there regularly to which he said smilingly that at times not regularly.

Zorawar was smiling all the time but my very next question as if stole his smiles. I had asked him casually if his parents especially mother didn't ask him to stay at home and not to be out of the house so early in the morning.  First he said he lived nearby. It appeared as if suddenly radiance of his face was overtaken by paleness. He got up to go out. But, then he turned back and sat besides me again and laid his heart bare before me that his mother had one day suddenly passed away due to heart failure when he was in third class.My heart as if bled for the child. I thought he must have forgotten his mother and asked him how did his mother look and if he remembered her face. He might have not understood my question  since he just said that he missed his mother often.

Zorawar then told me that he lived with his paternal aunt and that his uncle had also passed away four years back and they all lived together. His aunt's daughter who took tuitions assisted him in studies and kept him in discipline. I asked him about his routine. Chirpy as he was he forgot about absence of his mother and told me that in the morning he had tea and biscuits and left for the school without tiffin as he was provided mid day meal in his school. I told him to have milk in place of tea in the morning.  He smiled and replied innocently that he had milk in school. First time in my life l realized that the government 's venture to provide mid day meal is great and praiseworthy for poor children like Zorawar.  I was lost in my ruminations when all of a sudden that energy ball flung a question towards me and questioned if in my school also mid day meal was provided.When l told him no it wasn't, he again questioned if l would  have relished that if it had been provided.  When l said no. He said his teachers ate that as well as the fruits they brought from their homes.

The lady who was sitting inside  also joined in our conversation  and praised Zorawar and said that he hadn't learnt to say no to anyone. I asked her about his father. She told me that he is a plumber by profession and a drunkard . He lived near railway station with his eldest son while Zorawar and his elder sister stayed at their aunt's house. Children could not be trusted with a wastrel.The little boy didn't like to hear ill of his father and murmured in my ear that his father loved him the most , and once in a month he visited him and that his uncle drank while his father didn't. I smiled at his failed effort to cover up his father's irresponsible deeds. He wanted to say something more when the Granthi ji asked him to fold the mats outside and keep them indoors. He said bye to me and willingly went out to work. I and the two girls also got up to return back to our respective abodes. I was looking  for my footwear outside when my eyes fell on Zorawar who was simultaneously busy folding mats and talking to pampered kids of his age group from the village who were basking in the sun. A silent blessing passed my soul for the motherless child and carrying his sweet memories in my world l headed back hoping to meet the little fighter again some day somewhere.