Another day at office was
threatening to turn into a really hard one when Mr Singh materialized in front
of me, a sheaf of papers in his hands and that gentle smile plastered on his
face as always. He is a simple, easy going man, rare virtues which most of us
lack. I have known him for the last seven years and have hardly found him
complaining about anything or anyone. And his collection of jokes is simply
amazing, every one of them will make you laugh riotously, even though sometimes
there are repetitions. So when I saw him this morning, I started getting ready
for a refreshing break, albeit for a few minutes.
He sat down in front me, made
some small talk. I ordered tea and waited eagerly for the joke of the day. He
seemed withdrawn, may be he is not in the mood today—I thought. Then he started
abruptly-
“You know what my son told me
yesterday?”—he asked, the smile in his face seemed distant.
I was all ears. He said—“Let me
tell you from the beginning. Actually my son’s B. Tech final year result is
out. He has done pretty well. He scored 46 out of 50 in control systems. They
tell me it is the toughest subject. Is it so?”
I smiled. “Singhda, for me all
subjects were equally tough. But yes, as far as my memory goes, electrical guys
were afraid of this subject.”
“Right. I was pleased, you see.
Only son and all that. So I asked him-what do you want? You know what he said?”
“What?”
Mr. Singh covered his face with
both hands and his body started shaking. I was stunned. The man was laughing
like crazy, but where was the joke?
Then he lifted his face and I saw
tears streaming down his cheeks. He was sobbing and in a choked voice gave the
answer to his earlier question—“My son said--please cure my mother.”
He told me about his bedridden
wife and the diabetes, which had eaten up her eyes and livers, about the sleepless
nights when he and his son stood helplessly while his wife writhed in
unbearable pain and the agony reflected in the weathered face.
He calmed down after a few
minutes, apologized needlessly, and started discussing about the papers he
brought with him. I glanced at his face, and surprisingly, the smile was back.
He took another cup of tea, lit a cigarette, and then started, this time with a
mischievous expression in his face—
“Did I tell you this joke about
the RPF man trying to catch a smoker in a running train?”
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