Badal is my first-grade student, a bit of a confused boy. However, he is memorable because of his innocent, naive mother. I went to his house to enroll him in school. His mother started chatting, just as if she were meeting an old friend for a casual conversation. All I could say was, "Hmm, hmm."
Badal's father had gone to the other village for work. I casually asked, "Why don't you go to your husband? It's better to stay with him than to stay here alone."
"He beats me a lot after drinking alcohol," she replied. I couldn't say anything in response to her answer.
Of course, after Diwali, she went to her husband's house, and Badal's school was closed. Despite all efforts, I was unable to contact her.
When I go to the pada in the month of June and see Badal, it means that the family has returned. If the children are away from school for a long time, it is difficult to bring them back to school regularly. The same thing happened to Badal. Despite telling his mother repeatedly, he did not come to school. As the uniform distribution was starting, I informed Badal's house. Children who never come to school are present on time for the benefit scheme with their parents. Badal was given a uniform. After lunch break, Badal's stomach ached. When I saw him, Badal was rolling on the ground.
I put him on a scooter, took my fourth-grade student with me, and went to the padda . Badal's mother came to me outside the hut.
"Does his stomach hurt a lot, madam?" she asked in a worried tone.
"Oh, he was rolling on the ground. If I give him water, he will vomit. Go to the hospital. Take care of him."
"Madam, can you take me to the scooter? Let's take Badal to the doctor?" she asked hesitantly. The scooter was running low on petrol, and in my hurry, I left my purse at school. But I felt sorry for her vulnerability. I went to school with the girl, brought my purse, and went to the village. The doctor was taking his afternoon rest and didn't wake up, so we returned from outside.
She saw a medical shop on the way. Badal's mother went to get pills. "His stomach ache will stop, madam," she said and took Badal away. I was standing near the scooter, watching them. The distraught mother and the frightened boy were a very pitiful sight. On the way back, I stopped the scooter at a petrol pump to fill up.
Badal's mother immediately took out fifty rupees to give me. "Here, madam, fill up the petrol." I laughed at her words. "No, I brought my purse. I'll fill it." But she insisted again, "Madam, you brought us on the scooter"
"This money is used to pay for the hospital. Do you see how much trouble he causes?" I got angry at her. But she was looking at me with surprise and joy. I dropped her off near her hut and returned to school, but her thoughts were still running through my head: her vulnerability, poverty, and yet her honesty. The thought of paying for a ride lingered. I had experienced the honesty of poor parents many times before.
Even when Laxman and I, at his mother's insistence, went to the city from school and brought his school uniform, his mother was still insisting on paying for petrol. At that time, my refusal and the surprise on her face were still fresh in my mind.
Aadhar card issuance had just started. There was a lot of confusion because of the new policy.One day, a very elderly couple came to me to fill out the Aadhar card registration form. After filling out their form, they started to give me a twenty-rupee note. When I asked them about it, they replied that there was a fee for filling out the form. "They charge money to fill out this paper." The couple was very poor, and their clothes were tattered. I felt deeply sorry for them, and I was very angry at the people who took money from them.
I have seen hands stained with corruption due to greed for money. I always come across people who rob the humble, the poor, and the needy. Where are the poor who think about how to take something for free from others, and where are the rich in money but poor in heart!
