Not so long ago, I was on a table with all my brothers and sisters (except that freshly minted green beauty) being worshipped. There were lights all around, sweets of different varieties were placed on the table alongside. We were a family of around 1000 and each of us individually were worth a thousand. Within the kingdom of currencies, we were labelled as One bat and three balls. We were stacked together by a rubber band and the humans called as bundle. For simplicity sake, I shall refer to the human being as my master. Of course, he wasn’t my first master and as my forefathers always said I was destined to be of use to many masters.
As the family started chanting and started moving the thali in a clockwise direction in front of us, my heart swelled with pride. From the corner of my eye I could see the image of Mahatma smiling. As I looked around, happiness was writ large on the faces of all within my family and other families of 500 and 100. The family of 100 has been traditionally considered inferior and only a handful of them were privileged to attend this ceremony. Poor them. Amongst many bundles of 1000 and 500, I could still spot my girl, the freshly minted green coloured 500 beauty.
I still remember jab we met. My erstwhile master removed me from his wallet and handed over to his master, err his wife who in turn procured another note and handed us over to the maid. As a white-collar executive, I was used to staying at leather wallets or purse or handbag. The uncouth lady and unfortunately my new master lifted us up thrust us somewhere within her under her dress. It was warm, pitch dark and it was quite a bouncing journey. Yet, it was probably the best environment ever. We both were by ourselves and before we could know each other more, the journey had an abrupt stop amidst some yelling. As she removed us amidst the prying eyes of onlookers, we were quickly snatched by a hand and handed over to a shopkeeper. This time I was traded for some glittering liquid in a bottle. By evening we were collected and placed in a locker at our master’s place.
There are other pleasant memories too. Yet what has happened in the past three days is interesting to say the least.
Day before yesterday my master lined up all his servants and declared that he was offering them Diwali gifts. It was surprising as he had already given them the inferior 100 rupees note along with a rupee coin. More surprising was the fact that he had invited servants from other households too. It was separation time for my brothers and sisters. It was literally Ae dil hai Mushkil to see them go away after all the suffocation we endured together in that black hole called locker. I was choked by the time they handed me over to Pappu, the laundry man. We were 20 in all and the only satisfaction was the wide smile on Pappu’s face. However, the happiness was short-lived.
The master removed me along with 4 others and kept us on the table. My girl was gone! After a long time when I opened my eyes, I was appalled to see the inferior 100s surrounding us. They were stacked up like skyscrapers while we the family of 1000 and 500 merely stood like hospital buildings, waiting for treatment of nervous breakdown. It was not to be. Today, I’ve been thrown in a haystack and I can sense that they are burning me. Why? From being worshipped to being burnt alive is not a journey. Yet, when I see the faces of many human beings around and as I hear them, it sounds good to me. Maybe that’s life, that’s Dear Zindagi for me. https://www.facebook.com/DearZindagi
Still can’t believe though that they let the family of 100 get away:(
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