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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2117017-Shame
by Arya
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #2117017
My first short story
The sun was scorching that afternoon. After an early start to the day, I had toiled three hours under relentless heat. I decided to give my body a break and settled down for lunch. A job in sales has its perks free lunch was one of them, solitude another. Alone, away from the noise, dust and constant haggling with my clients, I eased into my lunch. I relaxed and a steady stream of varied thoughts percolated within me.

May be I am not meant for this job. This was the third consecutive month I had missed my sales target. My boss would be furious if another fruitless month passed by. It is very easy to blame me when the company products are not good enough. Nevertheless, I dreaded the very thought of being jobless. The last thing I want is to be a burden on my mother. I don't want to be dependent on my mother’s pension and retirement funds to make my ends meet.

I finished lunch and was now having my customary cigarette. The nicotine calmed my nerves. I had one more area to cover before completing my day. If the second half of the day goes my way, it will greatly help me stay afloat in my current job. As I started with my second puff, I looked at my surroundings. It was an interesting locale, a commercial electronics hub, tailor made for an electronics salesmen like me. Blistering heat and dust complemented this setting aptly. This area is also known as the red light area of this city. I was told to be extra cautious of the thugs as the area was not safe.

Energized after lunch and a cigarette, I started my work with a spring in my step in spite of the heat. I had a list of wholesale merchants in my hand as my mind was drafting a plan of action. As I approached the office of my first customer, I was distracted by a melancholy song coming from a distance. Naturally following my ears, I turned to see the origin of the song. After walking for some time, I saw a woman singing an old film song under a tree. It felt like a refreshing cool breeze in the sweltering heat. Music has always been my faithful companion so far and has an instant soothing effect on me.

Next to the woman, I saw a young boy playing with a toy. It must be her son. He was dirty and wore ragged clothes. He must be five or six years old and had a prominent thick black crop of hair. The woman wore a worn out cotton saree. She must be middle aged. She had a pronounced nose with deep eyes. Her face showcased the hardships she must have faced, but also highlighted her sharp features. She was beautiful in spite of the apparent trials and tribulations of her life. Due to her singing ability, she had now gathered a considerable crowd. They too were lured by her voice. As I watched, some of the men dropped coins in front of her – a lame tribute to the magic that I was witnessing. How does the almighty distribute talent in humans? Do the deserving always get their fair share? How could a lotus have blossomed in this dirt? What is she doing in this notorious area? What about the boy – is he fatherless? Various thoughts were reeling through my mind.

The woman was totally engrossed in her rendition of an exquisite melody and paid no attention to the clinking of the coins in front of her. However, the boy looked interested. I noticed a distinct, mischievous smile when one of the patrons offered a note.

The effect of her music on me was tremendous. I felt weak in my knees. I sat down on the road next to her – oblivious to the crowd around me. , I closed my eyes and settled into the melody. The effect was simply sublime. For that moment I forgot all my frustrations and struggles. I felt complete.

I was broken from my musical trance by the boy. He was asking me for money. Suddenly, reality dawned upon me that I had to meet my customer. I gathered my things and ran towards the customer’s office. As I was about to step through the door, I checked the pocket of my pants and noticed that something was not right. To my dismay, my wallet was missing.

Immediately I retraced my steps in the hope of locating my wallet on the road. I frantically walked down to the tree where the woman had been but to my misfortune she had left. My mind was racing. Did the boy take my money? Was I so foolish? Was the boy so desperate to help his mother with stolen money? Nevertheless, I felt very angry and cheated.

Disappointed, I started making my way back to the office. I was now cursing myself for my love of music, for my faith that musicians are pure and honest beings. I was lumbering towards the office with a preoccupied and a disappointed mind. At that moment, I felt someone tugging at my shirt. I turned around and saw the boy. He smiled at me and handed over my wallet. Before I had a chance to process my thoughts and look him in the eye, he said, “You left it behind when you were listening to mother sing” and fled away.

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