Undo a Mistake

It was in 1973, the eleventh class students were busy bidding farewell to all of us. Some have brought sweets from Vizianagaram to distribute to all of us in Gupta house. Eight years of friendship, fights, and adventures is going to end soon. There was palpable sadness in the atmosphere. The truck carrying the outgoing boys was to leave at ten in the morning. Some of us juniors helped in loading the luggage onto the truck. Then someone suggested that we go in the truck and bid farewell at the railway station. It was a good idea and so, some of us hopped in the truck. The truck left with loud shouts of “Three cheers to SSK” “Hip pip hurray.” “Hip pip hurray.” “Hip pip hurray.”

We had a watchman for our apartment. He was one of the three, who worked in shifts of 8 hours. There
 was something special about this man. There was an unseen, unspoken bondage between us. He being very
old, I always had some sympathy for him. As I pass by the gate, I noticed that he salutes everyone else but
me. It made me envious, but there was some fraternal emotional attachment between us. He always offered
 to carry by bags up to the lift, but I never let him. So, I always treated him like an elderly one in our family. We
always sent him small portions of what we cook for festivals, which he looked forward to.

The truck from the School was rumbling slowly in the rugged road to Vizianagaram. There was a lot of
noise  with people singing, joking and crying. In all that hustle and commotion, Mr.Pitchaiah (636) came to
me and put 5 rupees in my hand.

“Give it to Surya Narayana, our ward boy, I promised to give him but could not find him this morning.”

“Sure” I said and pocketed the amount.

One day, my son, 10 years then, came running to me complaining that the same watchman scolded
 him.

“What for”

“He says that I was riding my bicycle too fast.”

“If he scolded you, it must be for your good.”

“But Dad he is just a watchman.”

Then my little daughter chipped in “He almost dashed in to an incoming car Dad.”

“See he never scolds without a reason” I said.

This man was growing very old and many residents started to complain about his inability to function
 and wanted to replace him. I had to do a lot of talking and persuasion to let him continue. He was there
every day for the last ten years, but I never had a chance to talk to him on a personal note. Or maybe, I just
did not bother.

We bid farewell to our seniors at the station, with hugs and I remember one senior punching me in
the chest and said don’t forget me. How can I, he terrorized me.

The School truck left with out us and so we decided to stay put and go for a movie.

All that I had was the 5 rupees that Mr Pitchaiah had given. Never-the-less we enjoyed the movie,
a biryani and I was back to square one – broke.

The next morning, our ward boy Surya Narayana asked me” Has Pitchiah given you any amount,
he said he will give to you”

I was shocked, was ashamed of myself. “No, he did not give anything to me” I lied.

That lie changed my life. For the next two years I was in the School, I could not see eye to eye to
my ward boy.I was a sinner.

In 2003, I decided to make amends and wipe out the guilt in me. I decided to trace Surya Narayana
and pay hundred times the amount to him. Or more.

I enquired at School and was told that Surya Narayana has retired and is living in Alamanda now.

I was in Alamanda to trace him; I was hoping that he was still alive so that I can undo the mistake.
I went to the police station at Alamanda to enquire. No one could give me any leads, and instead, they thought
I was out of my mind.  One paunchy police man said he knew Surya Narayana, but he did not know where he
 is now. He had a son Satti Babu, who was a carpenter and gave me his address.

I waded through the narrow lanes accompanied by grunting pigs to the address I was told.

“Satti babu is working in Bacheli, Chhattisgarh with a contractor” I was told.

That was a dead end; I thought there is no way to find Satti babu.

But as fate had it, after three months, I had to quote for a work in Bacheli and was there. I stayed put
there to trace Satti babu. It had become an obsession to me.

My friends thought I that I was out of my mind. Never the less I traced him with great difficulty. I hugged him in
 happiness.

“My father left house many years back, he calls very rarely, I will let you know where he is when he calls
next time.” I gave him my phone number and told him how serious I was. He too thought I was insane.

I thought that it was the last thing and a dead end. I fell into my usual grind of my life.

One morning, at 6 AM I receive a call from Satti babu.

“Sir, he is working as a watchman in Palm Beach Apartments in Vizag, he just called me 2 days
back.”

I was in a state of shock. When, immediately I receive a call from home. My wife is hysterical,
she is sobbing  uncontrollably. I listened and froze.

I call Satti Babu and say “Sorry to say, your Father died last night, might be because of the cold,
he was found dead this morning. Please go and perform the last rites, I will bear all the costs.”