That morning, it wasn’t a fine feeling to begin the day with. The glass was almost gone from one corner, and the touchpad was hardly responding. And again, I threw it on to the other side of the bed. The frustration and the anger still didn’t make the phone work any better. So it was clear that, I needed a new phone. I had one in my wish list though, a better one with better glass and better features. I was pretty sure about it, but not about how to ask my father for it, who was already occupied with the construction work of our new house. He used to visit the construction site every day, before and after his office. It was hectic for him and that’s why I had to help him in that. In my free time my maa would ask me to go to the construction site and check if the workers are working fine. Since it was summer and the vacations were going on I was asked for the same more frequently, like every day.  That day, had included the same work in my schedule.

After I woke up, I had to finish all my works quickly, and then my father and I headed out to the construction site. As we reached, we saw two new workers and it wasn’t anything new. Every now and then the workers used to change depending on their availability to the contractor. So that day a new man in his 40s was there with his nephew who was around of my age (20). He saw me from top to bottom. He saw my shoes, my clothing and also the shiny back of the broken phone in my hand. But something in his eyes was different, and that made me feel awkward.

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It was Saturday, an off day for my father. So he was there with me for the whole time. He used to chat with the workers about their evenings and families and was always friendly to them. He was doing the same with that new young worker then, who had few answers but more smiles. From a little distance, I kept an eye on everything: his smile, his answers, his half torn banyan, the old thin sandals, his hardwork and every other activity of him. When he looked at me, I looked somewhere else. Something about him was digging my heart and mind. I wasn’t able to look direct into his eyes.

In the afternoon when we got back to home for our lunch, as asked by my father, my mother made some tea for the workers that we took to the construction site in a thermo-flask. This used to happen every day. As we reached the site, the workers were back after their lunch. We offered them tea, but the young man denied with a smile. My father played some jokes with him which he answered back with the same innocent smile. Everyone was talking, but I was quiet. Quiet from inside out. That young man was still giving me some challenges inside my head.

They were back to their work, and so was I. I kept looking at the young worker until my confusion rose to a point of no return.

Finally the day came to an end and the workers were ready to leave. But before that they stood for their payments for the day. My father came and did the formalities. I was looking from a distance as the young man received his pay for his work. As they left, a major part of the day came to end.

I was on my bed after the dinner. I had my cracked phone in my hand, but there were no frustration this time. Rather some questions. In the morning I was sure that I needed a new phone. Few days back, I bought a jacket and a new pair of shoes, and I was really happy. Every night when I got to bed I had something that I wished for. But that night there were questions and images of that young worker. I wasn’t worried about him; rather it was something about me. That guy was earning his own bites, yet he wore a torn banyan, an old pair of sandal and had no phone in his hand. On the other side, I, with a roof over my head and a bed underneath, all comforts provided by my father, was dreaming and wishing for never ending things. That guy who was earning for his each and every meal, who was living for himself, might find it hard to think of upgrading his torn banyan, and I, who himself broke the phone was looking for a new one, a better one. This wasn’t a slap, but it hit harder somewhere in deep. I would be lying if I won’t say the word “SHAME” is what I felt of myself. The questions still roamed in my head with no answers in the eyes, yet the night came to an end.

It has been 4 years since then, but that young man still lives in my head. That day he taught me some lessons that I still carry on with me. May be he was earning a bit less when compared to others, but he earned his every bite, every single one. Even if I manage to earn good someday, I know, I will never be able to earn as much as him. And he will be and remain the richest person of the world for me.

By Dhrutikanta Sahoo