Raman and Aamir stopped by a roadside thela (a type of open kiosk) to eat omelette after a heated argument on hypocrisy and Communism and how being a communist was as good as a hypocrite.
While they were savouring, a car stopped by and a man in mid-thirties with his son (‘round 8 years) came to eat up the last omelette. After eating the omelette, man was explaining to his son addition of numbers, who was too dim to get it.
“See Neelu…one omelette is for 23 rupees. We had two omelettes…..so we should pay 23+23=46 rupees.”
The Son gave an unsure nod. Raman and Aamir were watching the didactics carefully.
Father handed a 100 rupee note to Ramu, a school drop-out who aids his old master in running kiosk. Ramu quickly removed 54 rupees from his old, ragged money-bag and returned it to his customer.
It didn’t surprise the father. Obvious.
Aamir called Ramu and asked him pointing towards the sky, “Upar kya dikhta hain” (What do you see above)??
He replied without any hesitation, “Bhaiya, Badal dikh rahe hain. Teen rang ke- saafed , neele aur kale. Neele aapki tarah jinhe suraj pareshan karta hain. Kaale meri tarah jo hamesha rote hain. Aur saafed…jinke bare me jaante sab hain lekin bolta koi nahi. Ghar jaldi jana bhaiya, yeh kale badal barasne lag gaye na fir aafat aa jayegi. Saare aasman me cha jayenge aur fir neele aur safeed badal dikhenge hi nahi”
(Brother, I can see clouds. Clouds of three colours- white, blue and black. Blue ones are just like you, always troubled by the sun. Black ones; just like me which keep crying and white ones…everyone knows who they are but no one speaks about them. Go home early, brother. If these black clouds start pouring in, it’ll create troubles. They will cover the whole sky and then blue and white clouds will disappear).
His answer dumbfounded Aamir plus Raman.
Both had their own stringent and inflexible views on Communism as well as hypocrisy. They thought from two pair similar of eyes, yet very much differently.
After Ramu’s answer, they felt their opinions were nothing but very much alike.
“You think he knew everything??” asked Raman.
Aamir kept looking at a cycler pedalling a housewife with her mundane luggage.
“I’m going to Kolkatta Raman. Arnabjit bhai needs me more there.”
Faiz Ahmad Faiz’s words hemmed in Aamir’s heart.
Chashm-e-num, jaan-e-shooreeda kafi nahi
Tohmat-e-ishq poosheeda kafi nahi
Aaj bazaar main paa-bajolaan chaloo
Rakht-e-dil bandh lo, dil-figaroon chaloo
Phir hum he qatal ho aain, yaroon chaloo
The accusation of a hidden love is not enough,
With feet in chains, Let us go in public today. Pack up your belongings O Injured heart ones!
Let us go friends and get killed once again.)