Swagata Banerjee
Every day on my daily route, a lanky seven or eight-year-old girl would often draw my attention at a traffic signal. I christened her Munni only for my thoughts. Her hair was brown and her body-frame would only speak of malnourishment. She would be in discolored and oversized dresses. I loved observing her cheerful demeanor as she ran from one vehicle to another, trying to sell flowers or toys or colorful balloons.
One day she approached me to buy some coloring books. As because they wouldn’t be of much use to me I politely refused and instead, extended a ten rupee coin. She not only refused to accept the coin, but sweetly convinced me to buy the books with the suggestion to give them to the needy kids. Amazed was I at her self-respect and dignity towards her task. On that very day I promised myself not to show unwanted sympathy to anyone striving to meet ones ends. Whether the harsh summers or the heavy monsoons of Mumbai, Munni braved them all. At times I could spot her munching a vada-pav (bread with snacks) under the shade of an over-grown shrub, with water kept in a half broken bottle. On other days, she would be running with her group of friends while the policeman instructed them to stay away from the moving vehicles.
As months turned into years, Munni outgrew her childhood. As a teenager she would be properly dressed with a descent look. Her childhood cheer and callousness was replaced by a reserved style, as she continued her work in a dignified manner. One day I thought to myself; how long can Munni continue in this way? Will she not become a prey to the roving eyes of the big evil world? So as she came closer to my car, I asked her why she couldn’t be seen at the evening hours. To my happiness, she replied that she was attending an evening school run by an NGO. Such was her determination. With passing of few more years, I witnessed Munni getting married and becoming a mom. Now she is no longer seen at the traffic islands, but is a proud owner of a small florist shop very close to that place.
This was the example I narrated to my friend’s son who lamented over the poor percentage of marks he has obtained in this year’s twelfth exam. I explained to him that how fortunate he has remained, been born into a wealthy family with nutritious food on his plate, convent education as his foundation for the days ahead, access to library and technology to empower himself, trendy clothes to suit every occasion, holiday destinations to some far off land for rejuvenating after an exam and yet he has complains that fate has played it foul and the Almighty has remained unkind? What a contrast to the world of Munni and how ungrateful could be the attitude, I thought to myself.
We all need to learn from the inspiring tales of the unsung Munnis all around us. They wait for no accolades and yet they make it through their sheer determination and acceptance of whatever Nature bestows on them.
‘…. In the end she became more than what she expected. She became the journey and like all journeys she did not end; she just simply changed directions and kept going…’
