The Shoe Mender It takes courage to be naked Jitu’s father gave him ten days to make up his mind what to do, and when to leave. He came back home that night with his parents, and gave one hour thought before going to bed, and decided to leave at zero hour. His first plan was to destroy his richness – his handsome glossy rich body, replaced it by the sun tanned working class coarse dirty one. ‘You cannot come from rich parents, and become a shoe mender over night’, he thought. Suspicious eyes would cast, ‘who is the guy really?’ And policemen would check ‘where do you live?’ Surely he would not welcome any fuss. He thought that three months were enough to shape him to become a real shoe mender. Jitu looked up at the wall clock. It read zero hour. He turned off the light and took the first historical step out of his room. The moment he stepped out of the room, sudden sobbing emotional surge started to flow. Jitu did not expect it really. What was easy at Doria was not easy in his room when he was all alone, the yes to his father’s decision with a big friendly smile on his lips, suddenly bounced back like a bullet, and pierced through his heart. The innocent yes turned into the most dangerous animal with its nails and paws to break the tie, and throw him like a ball of spittle into the waste bin. Yet he made up his mind just in one hour’s thought. Jitu stepped down the stair silently. No, he could not stay after his talk with his father, not for a single day, any one with a mind of self respect could not. Jitu hated to see him humiliated even by his parents. The house was sleeping silently. He must not leave any trace of his departure. He must not let his parents know. Jitu crossed the lawn silently, stood by his favorite sitting stone for a second. Tears were foaming in his eyes. He looked up at the stars, and beat his eye lashes. Few drops rolled down silently. Jitu crossed the pond, and took the last step out of the house, and had to stop for a few seconds to look back. Sudden feeling of loneliness engulfed him. He was standing all alone to see what love, care, and responsibility had given him. It was his time to give back. He had already taken a lot of things, had been indebted to his parents. ‘All relation is nothing but give and take’, Jitu thought. He had been taking, taking, taking, but if his father refused to give him anymore now, he could not be sorry really, he had no right to. The house, the lawn, the pond, his minute by minute growing up, kisses, happiness, joy, sorrow – all, all had been indebted to his parents. In a house of dependence all his desires were bought by his father’s money. Jitu felt sorry to think that there was no independent growing up for babies like a tree in the jungle. ‘We are born to be dependent. None could avoid it. Yet, there are people who try to deny it. Certain period of dependence, growing up, they cut all he threads, and get free to walk on their own feet independently’. Jitu turned to take his first independent step towards a place that he could say his. Free street was leading him to the universe of his own. Jitu kept walking for the first time in his life feeling happy, independent , confident and with the power in his hand to grab the world tightly and say, ’this is mine. The world is free but how much you own depending solely on you,’ he thought. When he was on the free street, his pocket was empty - he had not taken any money that belonged to his parents. In fact, he had no pocket at all. Jitu did not put on anything that was bought with his father’s money. So he was walking nakedly like a young mad man who had dreams, promises in his eyes to reach the top. It takes courage to be independent, cutting off all ties to set you free. It takes courage to be naked and walk on the street.
Posted on: Sat, 13 Jul 2013 10:33:06 +0000
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