I'M A LIAR...

          My wallet has never been empty till date. Oh, no! That doesn’t mean that I am a guy born with a silver spoon. It makes sense in that I always make sure some coins stay back in my treasury. Though mom and dad make sure I don’t run out of dosh, they always fail in their attempt as my desires are never – ending. I don’t understand whether my interest of being a bus conductor stemmed up due to my habit of having coins in my purse or vice – versa. Jokes apart, I’m a middle – class youth with adequate amount to satisfy everyday needs, but unprepared for a sudden requirement of large volumes of cash.

          Coming to the reason behind this coin accumulation phenomenon, I have the habit of giving away something to each and every beggar I find. Since I am neither Karna nor Bill Gates, I can donate only in pennies, as it is. Friends do state that I would have got enough money to get a brand new laptop had I saved those coins. Yes, the lappy thing still dodges me but no matter what, my habit has never stopped its course till date. Sometimes, I feel as contended and happy as ARR after delivering his composition while the thought of how a single coin could help a human being survive his/her day out boggles me mostly. Mom had once consoled me that fifty or hundred of those one – rupee coins may suffice. Thinking of Chennai’s cost of living, even a grand seems meager.

          We recently spent the evening of a Friday wandering around Kotturpuram and Adyar. As usual, my business started and I soon became the centre of laughter. One guy said, “Had this guy given me the money he has frittered away so far, I would have watched 10 movies.” Another commented, “I’d have easily dated 5 or 6 girls.” My best buddy asked me how I always stayed neutral to these kinds of remarks by just exuding a smile. My memories went back.

          I was then at fourth grade. The school was not very far from my home. To get a clear picture of my town, no distance can be regarded as ‘far’ as the whole town could very well fit into the size of CEG, or maybe IIT – M. Since my school was not that kind of ‘educating’ its students with various kinds of co – curricular and extra – curricular activities, I had the privilege of getting back home early in the evening. As I was idle after that (which implies playing in the streets), mom got that idea of getting me admitted into a Hindi class. My parents are not one among those stereotypes of Tamil Nadu who arbitrarily decide what is to be done to their children. But then, asking the preference of a 9 – year old isn’t worth much. I didn’t know what is what and agreed.

          My class started on the auspicious day of Vijayadasami. Though I missed my playing cricket, hide and seek et al, I loved that language basically because it was easy for me to grasp things. A 4^th standard student learning the alphabets isn’t that hard, really. My tutor was a lady, whose appearance would arouse the fear and increase the heartbeat of any of her students manifold, but who at heart was really kind. There were only 2 or 3 of us there and it was easy at both sides. The teaching and learning synchronized well and everything was smooth.

          The first month of my Pratmik was over and it was time to pay the fees. Don’t imagine much, just Rs. 30. In those days, school subjects for higher secondary students cost only 100 bucks a month and I remember my whole family of four enjoying a movie for 80. Today, the tuition fee goes beyond the monthly income of mom. And, some schools in Chennai, I hear, levy amounts which are slightly more than the yearly pay of mom and dad combined, merely for the admission into kindergarten. Mom gave me the money and I, with great devotion and fervor, kept those three 10 – rupee notes juxtaposed between the centre pages of my notebook. Mom gave that look, which seemed to stress, “I’ve given my whole property to you. Be careful. If you lose it, I am bankrupt and ruined.”

          I left for the tuition, hugging the bag which contained the notebook and in turn the money, like a teddy bear. When one of the neighbors said hello, I hurried as if he was about to snatch it away from me. It was the first time ever in my 9 – year old history that I was vested with that much cash. It was as if I was a secret agent, who had to deliver some confidential message that was in the bag to my higher authority.

          Just when I was about to reach the class, a boy, obviously younger than me, called, “Anna”. That was the first instance of someone calling me with a senior relationship and I was pleased at least for that. He sported a bare chest and wore the so – called trouser, which was in the dusk of its life. He told me that he needed money. I was shocked and thought immediately that he should have seen me going with cash. When I told him that I could not give him and explained my situation, he shed a tear, then started weeping and soon it transformed into a dam opened during rainy season. I couldn’t bear that and so gave it way to him. Neither he nor I spoke about the quantity of money as I gave away those 30 rupees, without knowing who he was. I didn’t know to ask how much he needed and not to give all the money I had.

          Left with no money, I returned home without attending the classes, not before playing cricket in the adjacent street. My plan was to make up as if I had attended the class by going home after an hour’s play. (My first ever bunking of a class) To my dismay, mom welcomed me with the question, “Where have you been?”, which meant she had cross – checked. I didn’t reply. What followed was a serious of slaps in my cheek and I started crying with an uproarious volume. That day was new to me. Everything had happened for the first time - a fellow calling me with respect of brotherhood, me initiating my charity and mom slapping me. These had never happened to me previously and I was simply petrified. I didn’t know why I could not muster up courage to tell mom that I helped a poor fellow. For sure, mom wouldn’t have believed but it was worth a try.

          What was more shocking was that my parents had by then, come to a decision that I was not interested in Hindi. Since I had played and enjoyed my day out there, the option of me losing the money was eliminated as they thought I, as their son, should’ve at least made an attempt to search it out. Finally, I had become a CHEAT, FRAUD and LIAR at home.

          The issue was never raised then and it hasn’t become a topic of conversation till date, except for dad recalling the incident when I argue with him. I had lost the golden opportunity of learning the lingua franca of India (I hope it is), but I have no regrets. I had developed a philanthropic attitude at the age of nine. Further, I had adhered to Thiruvalluvar’s golden words:

                   “Poimaiyum Vaaimai Idaththu Puraitheerndha

                   Nanmai Payakkum Enin”

(Lie is not lie if it serves a good and selfless cause)

          I was brought back to reality by my buddy’s pat. I just smiled at him again.