After a seemingly long journey from his school, Madhavan poured some water on his feet from a kindi , and entered his home. His grandmother, who was busy reading The Bhagvad Gita.
“How was your exam?”
“Amma, I’m hungry”
It was easy for his mother to understand. Madhavan had his terminal exams, and that day, it was Mathematics,. It was not one of his favorite subjects, and that day too, the experience was unpleasant.
“ You must not get used to your exams being tough” said his mother “That is a bad sign”
“ What can I do, Amma? They always do this to us”
Madhavan’s younger brother Mukundan was busy munching some appams.
“Kannan’s exam was easy” his mother said.
Madhavan looked at his younger brother again. Multiplication and division was still easy for him.
“How was it for your classmates?”
“It was tough for them too”
“Did you ask Shankar and Rahul?”
He expected that question. Shankar and Rahul were the toppers of his class. He actually used to ask them about their exam. They would tell him that it was tough, and then end up with some ninety five percent and above.
“Kutta? Will you accompany me to the temple?” Madhavan’s grandmother asked.
“I’m coming!” he replied, to avoid further quizzing by his mother. They went to the temple where his father worked as a priest. He was busy with his pujas.
“Bhagavane ! “ Madhavan prayed “I still do not understand how it would do any harm to me if the paper had been easier. And all that was asked were to ‘ integrate this’, ‘integrate that’!. I just hope that the evaluators show mercy while correcting our papers”
As he kept complaining about the exam, he noticed a frail, boy of about six or seven years old, praying. The innocence on the boy’s face gave it a pleasant glow, and then, Madhavan felt his voice being audible.
“Bhagavane! Bless the kind people who come here to pray. It is because of them that I got to pay my school fees”
Madhavan kept staring at the boy, who walked away in a slow, quiet manner.
As they stepped out of the temple, he saw his grandmother place a 100 rupee note in the palm of an old woman.
“Isn’t 100 rupees a bit too much to be given as alms?”
“Kutta, what do we have for dinner everyday?”
“Well, sometimes rice, and otherwise chappathis”
“Would it cost more than 100 rupees to buy rice, spices and vegetables altogether?”
“Well… yes”
“Then 100 rupees is very less. I’ve seen financially sound people give such small amount of money, like 50 paise, or one or two rupees as alms, as if they’d done a great work of charity, and then they go and buy useless trinkets. Moreover, that poor old lady has a grandson to feed”
That night, Madhavan’s thoughts were about the boy he saw at the temple. Paying his school fees was such a problem for him. Well, he did not know himself how much his father would pay for his studies every month. Then he brushed aside these thoughts, and lay down on his bed. The holidays have arrived, and it was such a relief.
But on the following days also, he saw the boy. As he helped his father with some work in the temple, he got to know more about him, who was orphaned when he was a toddler. The boy and his grandmother lived in a space between four dilapidated walls, which they called, their ‘home’.
But then, he noticed that the boy’s grandmother had not come to beg near the temple for a couple of days. What must have happened to her? Was she not well? The boy still visited the temple regularly.
He saw the boy again, one morning, as he poured payasam in small packets. The devotees would get a receipt for it and then receive it as their prasadam. The boy looked much weaker than usual, but still, his mind seemed to be much immersed in God.
Then, as though by some instincts, Madhavan got a receipt written for him and paid for it himself. Then he went closer to the boy and patted him.
“Come with me” he said.
The boy, startled, kept following him. Then Madhavan handed over a packet of payasam to the boy.
“But Cheta, I haven’t paid for it”
“It’s paid already. Take it home”
The boy stared at Madhavan, with moist eyes. He walked away slowly, and on the way, turned back to look at him.
Poor boy, Madhavan thought. He must not have eaten for days, as his grandmother had not come begging for days. But, was a packet of payasam enough for them?
He followed the boy quietly as he walked to his home.
“Ammama” he said “We’ve got something to eat”
“Who gave you this?” she asked.
“A boy in the temple” he replied “He gave this to me, and I did not have to pay for this”
He paused for a while
“Ammama, you tell me everyday that God would listen to our prayers, and help us in need.
I am sure, that it was Bhagvan himself who gave this to me. I found him today! I found our Bhagvan today.
Madhavan felt deeply touched by what he heard. Slowly, Madhavan smiled through the window, and knowing that he was far from their attention, quietly walked away.
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