A Matured Child

Know him since he was a toddler. I still remember his lullabies, his great effort to pronounce “Ta” (as in T), his ever conquering cry at the sound of the scooter starting and his joyful ride through the city on the scooter foot board. Early teens took over his infant lust for ice cream for a more matured Fanta. But his Fanta wasn’t ever a five rupee affair in mid nineties. It was a princely twenty for two litres of the drink, which was his onetime dose.

In his early twenties he was that six footer full grown youth but still an affectionate beast to the core. His innocent smile became the hallmark of his personality. Ever understanding, he never taxed his middle class parents to send him to select institutes paying hefty capitation. Instead he preferred an IGNOU course staying at home.

Refused to be cowed down, the young man started his career at a very very modest income level. It’s his composure and perseverance which has paid off. Good to see him now as a technical lead in an MNC.

Like every well-wisher we also wanted to see him well settled both professionally and socially. But it’s a bad luck that he suffered a social setback, which none of us could help mend.

But today when I intruded into his solitary dwelling, it was amazingly organised. From the drawing room to master bed there was his unmistakable touch of decency without an iota of show off. After all that life has given him, he is the same affable and affectionate self; not even compromising a wee bit from his trademark humility and respect to elders. He was just composure written all over his personality in his early forties.

If I ever had a pride that age could be the only criteria for maturity, today definitely he smashed it. He is undoubtedly more balanced, more composed than I.

God Bless

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