A couple of rasagullas

The bus to Hajipur was late by an hour. It was nothing new, or in that matter, exceptional. The woman and her son got down. The road crumbled beneath their feet.

“Chaliye madam, badhte rahiye!”

The woman, moved on; carrying her son in her arms. The boy never demanded much, but that did not mean he had to live in want for anything; his mother understood her needs. It was a circular-ring sort of situation.

The place bore that typical Bihar town look; shops were typically rectangular, constructed in wood. Wind helped plaster dust on their faces, they moved on. The first stop was ‘Chandan Sweets’. The kid’s eyes gleamed; a box of rasagullas were packed. Ahh! Life is sweet!!, he thought…

A rickshaw to her village chowk was booked. It ferried on. The woman bought a sweet typical of Bihar, something her father loved: ‘lai’. The rickshaw dropped them off at the chowk. It would be a good half an hour walk to her place. A long walk through the mango orchards ensued, a part of which was inherited by the woman herself. The Sun was scarcely visible; hence it appeared to be dawn at noon. They decided to rest. The boy looked at the box of rasagullas, her mother was looking the other way. Maybe, he could snake a few!

The thought remained what it was! Just a thought!! The rest of the passage consisted of the local government school, a ‘tari’ shop and the pond. The pond was of prime importance as it was around this place only that ‘pojhiyan’- the Sunday market was arranged. She finally reached home. Her brothers welcomed her with open arms, and animated faces. The kids, watched in sheer amusement, after all it was their ‘bua’, who had arrived; which meant loads of gifts and sweets!!

None was disappointed, the pack was opened. The kid’s eyes lit-up, finally!! His mama called up his name, two pieces of rasagulla were bulging out of his hands. The kid ran, his mama followed; round and round they went, laughing, screaming, jumping. In due time, his mama gave up the chase; the kid went back to have his trophy. He was back, just in time, to witness his mama gallop the two pieces in one go. The kid’s face turned sour.

“What happened??”

“Nothing”