“One packet of flakes, dada.”
The boy watched intently as his father reached out towards the top shelf, drew out a shiny white box and handed it to the waiting customer along with the change. The customer, a burly, dark man frowned at the silver coins in his palm.
“You increased the price again?”
“Sorry sir, the costs these days…”
The man left without hearing the rest of the sentence. The boy flinched as his father slapped his back and laughed. “These customers will always complain about the price, “he smirked, “But that won’t stop them from buying.” The boy smiled obediently. After all, he was supposed to learn how to run the shop like his father. He watched as his father took a swig from the bottle he kept under the counter. Soon, the latter would be passed out in a drunken stupor at the back of the shop and the boy would have to take his place behind the counter.
This was a daily routine for him. They sold many things in that little shop – cold drinks, chips and the like. But nothing brought in money like those white paper rolls in the shiny boxes that filled the shelves along the walls of the shop. The boy never understood what made them so popular. He’d tried one a couple of months back. He had nearly burnt his hand holding it against the flame and even when he puffed on it like everyone else did, it only made him cough and feel sick. He never tried one again.
He was all of eight when he fell in love for the first time.
Their shop was strategically placed right outside a large, modern residential complex. They had a number of regular customers, mainly residents of that complex. One lazy, summer afternoon, the boy sat dozing behind the counter.
“One gold flake light, “ said a sweet voice. Jolted awake, the boy sat upright and found himself staring at the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
“Do you have them?” she asked patiently.
“Uh, yes, didi,” he fumbled, embarrassed at being caught staring. He took out one cigarette and handed them to her. She turned to leave. Dismayed, the boy said, “Didi, take one more?“ Her smile made him catch his breath. “No, I can’t“ she replied kindly.
“Why, didi?” he cried.
“Because I only smoke one cigarette after college. I have to go home, you know.”
“Oh.” His disappointment was evident.
“But I’ll come again tomorrow,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Bye, kid.” She turned and left.
“Bye, didi, “, he called out, delighted.
This became his favorite part of the day. Each day he would wait eagerly for those five minutes, when he could give his beloved didi her cigarette and catch a glimpse of her lovely smile.
Until the day it rained heavily.
It was a dark, ominous sky the city woke up to that day. The clouds growled angrily and it rained incessantly. It wasn’t until mid-morning that the rain stopped completely and the sun came out. As the day wore on, the boy looked out anxiously for his didi. The trader hadn’t come in yet with the daily goods. The boy supposed it was because of the heavy rain. Meanwhile, the shop was running on yesterday’s leftover goods. And, he had no gold flake lights left.
“Hello, kid,“ she smiled at him. “Quite the weather today.”
“Didi, I’ve…I’ve run out of….”He trailed off.
She sighed. “Too bad then.” He felt close to tears as he saw her leave, disappointed.
The trader turned up an hour later. The boy watched, glum, as he unloaded the goods from the cart. He blamed himself for not saving one of those cigarettes for his didi. And now he had let her down. She must have been very angry. The boy groaned out loud. It was all his fault.
“Do you have cold Pepsi?“
The boy looked up. He recognized the man from the few times he’d seen his didi walking with him outside the complex. She had called him Baba. He couldn’t believe his luck. This was a golden opportunity. Maybe the day wasn’t spoiled after all. He took out a bottle of Pepsi from the refrigerator and drew out a cigarette from the shiny white box on the top shelf.
“Here you go, sir.” He grinned.
The man frowned at the cigarette offered to him. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“I know sir.” he said happily. “It’s for didi.”
“What?”
“Your daughter, sir. I didn’t have any this afternoon when she came. If you could give it to her…” he stopped, and watched open mouthed as the man turned abruptly and walked off.
Time passed. Every day, the boy waited eagerly, clutching a packet of gold flake lights. He was determined he would never let his beloved didi down again. But she simply did not turn up. It was only after nearly three months, he saw his didi again.
She walked past the shop, head bowed.
“Didi!” he called out. She did not turn. “Didi, I have them! ” he called out louder. Sobbing, he watched her walk into the complex without turning. Heart broken, he looked down at his hands.
A cigarette lay limp, drenched in his tears.
