Cost of a Smile

It has become a self enforced consuetude to celebrate Deepawali ever since childhood. My dad was born on the evening of Deepawali, about five and a half decades back and so I have been maintaining this customary to celebrate Deepawali. It happens almost every time that his date of birth and Deepawali doesn’t seem to coincide, yet every year I celebrate the back of Lord Rama to Ayodhya and my Dad’s birthday.

My habit of celebrating has been a little different. Rather than spending on crackers and noisy pollutants I have been spending on eateries and sweets, something that my dad loves a lot. I was standing outside a sweet shop, buying a few for myself. Suddenly a bunch of children surrounded me from no-where. Their torn clothes and distressed faces had silently expressed that they were not born to rich parents who could easily afford crackers and sweets on that night. I saw, they were about twelve of them. I asked the shopkeeper to give two different varieties of sweets to each one of them. They arranged themselves on a queue and were much disciplined than our elected representatives. They were so eager to eat. They enjoyed every bite and while they stared at among themselves their eyes sparkled and glittered. They were happy. I was not trained to tackle such situations. I saw every one of them. They finished and were about to left. All they gave me was a smile and as they blinked they showered innocence. They hadn’t learnt any English etiquette because perhaps they were barred from primary school due to poverty, and so they didn’t know how to thank formally. What they gave at the blinks of innocence was much more than mere thanks. They left the shop. I saw at the manager, he said, “Dada, Rs 112/-”. I saw my pockets, all I had was a hundred rupee note. I was about to turn helpless when suddenly the Manager said at a low note, “Dada that’s enough”. Perhaps he understood what benevolence meant. I left and walked all the way to home; I wasn’t left with a penny but rather than getting tired on walking I felt a wind of peace blow on my face. I returned home and said Dad about what I did. He smiled back at me.

 

The incident has passed several years and yet today this remains fresh just as it was yesterday. Since then I have been celebrating Deepawali on a similar manner. What I feel is that every child has the ‘Right to Smile’ and irrespective of their parents wage they need to be happy. It’s nothing wrong to buy an innocent child a smile, after all a smile doesn’t cost much

N.B:- This article was submitted under my pen for the third issue of Guwahatian - An E-Magazine from Guwahati.