Hi Guys
Before narrating this story,I want to make one thing clear,I have
no communal intentions and certainly not trying to ignite or spark any kind of
hatred against anyone.I am just sharing an experience,which almost shook me,
and left a permanent imprint on my life and personality.One can share such
feelings and encounters with friends only.One thing more,Gurmeet S.Khurana's
recent mails,have encouraged me to confess,something,for which I often feel
guilty.
Sometime back,I happen to pass through an area called Tilak
Vihar. This Tilak Vihar is a J.J. type colony,situated between,Tilak Nagar and
outer ring road,in West Delhi.This place is dominated by Sikh population.After
1984, riots-affected,sikhs from all over Delhi,were rehabilitated here.I had
never been to this place before.That day also,I had to visit,one of my staff
members (Nirmal S.),for something very urgent.Nirmal is a very professional
camera man,who lived there in a cheap rented accommodation.I had to stop my car
at a point,as it could not go any further,and started looking for Nirmal's
house.
Suddenly, I heard someone shouting at the top of his
voice.I turned back to see,that a man in his mid fifties, was holding the hand
of a young sikh boy (must be in teens).
I can never forget the face of that innocent boy.He was light complexioned,and
blessed with very photogenic features,but he was poorly dressed,bare-foot and
without Patka or Dastar.Then my attention diverted,back to that middle aged
man,who seemed to be genuinely cheated by that young boy.That man gave a tight
slap on the face of that boy,and snatched a bottle from him and threw it on the
road.There was white color liquid in the bottle.Even after receiving 2-3 really
hard blows,the boy remained unmoved,and did not even cry for help.
I could not resist my self any more and tried to
intervene.That man calmed,and a bit politely said,"Sardarji aap isko nahi
jaantay,yeh sabko chutia banata hai." In the process the boy got
his hand freed,suddenly all his innocence disappeared.That boy,who seemed
speechless,till now,started abusing that man with all sorts of M.C.'s and
B.C.'s.I could not believe my ears.After covering a short distance,the boy
picked up a stone and hurled at the man,that missed his head by half an
inch.Man shouted,"Daikha Sardarji,yeh B.C. issi kaabil hai."
On listening to all this Shor-Sharaba,Nirmal came out of
his house,at the end of that Gali,as if he was waiting for me.We went inside
his room and Nirmal offered me a glass of water,which I badly needed.After
receiving the required packet,for which I had come,I hesitently asked Nirmal
about that young sikh boy.Nirmal told that he knew the boy,very well,who lives
in the very next Gali,and his name is Harpal.Harpal lives there with his
mother...Sarabjit.He added,they are only two in the family.Sarabjit (Harpal's
mother),is a very beautiful lady,in her thirties.
My anxiety,increased many folds.Nirmal read all the
questions ,in my eyes and explained further.I was told,Sarabjit was neither a
widow, nor a divorcee.Autually the story goes back to 1984,when Mohinder Singh
(Sarabjit's father),was a very wealthy trader,who lived with his wife and
lovely little,only daughter Sarabjit.They were a well settled,happy family.And
then came that fateful night of 31st oct 1984,when an angry and violent mob of
some hundred people,attacked their house and burnt it altogether.Mohinder Singh
was ruthlessly dragged,beaten and finally burnt alive.The neighbor's managed to
save,the young Sarabjit and her asthma patient mother.
None of the relatives,ever helped them.They finally
shifted to Tilak Vihar.Sarabjit never went to school,after 84.Her mother's
condition kept on deteriorating,in the absence of proper medical
treatment.Their only source of income was the compensation,they received from
the Govt.With the passage of time Sarabjit grew up into a very beautiful,young
sardarni.Then came the bouncer,which I could predict,but not wanted to
listen.Sarabjit took to prostitution,to support herself and mother.The Old lady
could not tolerate all this,and held herself responsible for the fate of her
only daughter.She passed away the very next month,some even say,she committed
suicide.Sarabjit,gave birth to a boy,Harpal,many years ago.No body knows about
Harpal's father.Sarabjit has inherited that Asthma,from her mother.She is no
more as beautiful,young and healthy,as she used to be.She hardly find any
customers now.Harpal is now out to
earn the living.He buys second hand,empty bottles,from the kabaari wala,fills
them ,with slightly white colored water.He is cheating people by selling these
bottles as Phenol.He has to find new customers daily.He easily finds,some
customers every day,cos of his innocent looks.
I had tears in my eyes,after listening to
the whole story.I pledged to come back,the next day.I promised my
Waheguru,(though I am not very religious), to help this boy in every possible
manner..I kept thinking about that boy,while proceeding towards my car.I once
again promised my self,that I will not leave any stone unturned,to make
Harpal's future bright.On reaching my car,I was astonished to see,that both,
the side mirrors of my brand new Honda City,have been stolen.So many people
were looking at me,as if ,I had landed from another planet.I could do nothing
but to hurriedly,jump on to the driver's seat.Then someone shouted,"yeh zaroor
Harpal....Harami ,ka kaam hai." I angrily repeated that man's words,"Yeh B.C.
issi kabil hai",and drove back home.
With in a span of few minutes,I
forgot all my promises ,which I made for the first time,to my almighty
Waheguru.Negative feelings,over powered me and I started thinking....Mene kya
lena iss Harpal ke pango se.But honestly speaking I can never forget Harpal and
his innocent face.Last week,one of my very dear friends suggested,that v all
r,so well to do,and v must atleast sponser,one poor child's education.Once
again the only face that came to my mind was Harpal.
The very next day I called
Nirmal,who is now working for a leading news channel,and residing,somewhere in
Noida.Nirmal,is very faithful to me,so on my request,he went all the way to
Tilak Vihar,to report me about the present status of Harpal and his mother.The
same evening he called,to tell me that Harpal had become a criminal,by now.He
has been in and out of jail,several times.His mother,Sarabjit was fed up ,of
his activities,so she finally sold off her house to a property dealer,and went
away to her Pind,some where in Punjab.Now no body in the locality
know,regarding the whereabouts of Harpal and his mother.Nirmal repeated
emphasised,"Sirji Uss Harpal ke baaray main sochana bund kar do.....woh pucka
badmash hai."How can I tell him, how Harpal has changed my life,in
minutes.Harpal has told me so many things about me only.
Whenever I am lonely,and I happen to
close my eyes,I find Harpal laughing and shouting at me..." I.P. YOU ARE SUCH A
LIAR.
YOU ARE SO WEAK.
YOU ARE SO
UNSTABLE.
YOU ARE SO
HYPOCRITE.
YOU ARE SUCH
A CHEAT."
So true.
Regards
Inder Pal
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