Icecreamwala
Laltoo is very punctual when it comes to earning his livelihood. But this is a compulsion and not out of choice. He gets up early in the morning and paddles his bicycle for ten miles to get his box filled at the ice cream factory. Riding an ordinary bicycle loaded with a wooden box full of ice cream on its carrier with no means of any supported device is no joke. Laltoo has his own device. His bicycle is equipped with a big carrier, not provided with the original bicycle. He bought a second-hand bicycle when he started his ‘business’ of selling ice cream. One old tube is always knotted with the carrier for fixing the box tightly with the bicycle. His robust jute bag, which hangs on the left side of the handle, works as a toolkit. This ‘toolkit’ contains wrench of various sizes and all necessary articles for fixing any puncture in the tube. The dusty road with scattered gravel and brick stones, some with very sharp edges, are enemies for these bicycles. A bicycle air pump is also fixed on the bicycle frame. Laltoo repairs puncture by himself. Earlier, on many occasions, in the absence of this arrangement, Laltoo had to walk for several miles before he could spot a bicycle repair shop. One new tube is also lodged in his toolkit as a spare for emergency use.
Laltoo reaches at the ice cream factory gate early to avoid the rush. He knows every watchman on the gate. His rapport with the watchmen is so good that he can sit with them in their gate cabin and wait for the factory to open. The watchmen also prepare morning tea for him and Laltoo pays in monthly contribution for his tea. Laltoo is often among the first few vendors whose ice cream box is filled. He has three compartments in his box for the different variety of ice creams, the bulk of them is just ordinary sweetened and colored ice cream bars while the other two varieties are a bit costly and meant for children of affordable parents and his premium customers. Laltoo’s customers are mostly the school children and they buy ice creams during their recess hour. Laltoo makes sure that he reaches the school gate well before the recess has commenced.
Today it’s the seventh day of the month. Many pensioners gather at the market post office for their monthly pension. Laltoo happens to know that pensioners are potential customers of his premium grade kulfi. Pensioners, on the other hand, wait for Laltoo’s kulfi if he is late. The pensioners were mostly retired from class III or class IV positions from local bodies or state governments of nearby towns. However, some of them had superannuated from far off places and chose their native villages as their preferred place of settlements. They were often made to wait for their pensions. They used to gossip and share their rich experiences of long service with each other. Laltoo is not very busy here and used to pass his time in the company of these senior citizens and was the biggest beneficiary of the pensioner’s tale. As the recess time approached near, he quickly proceeds to the school gate.
Group of students used to flock around Laltoo’s ice cream box. The taller ones used to take benefit of their height and panache of studying in senior classes and the younger ones were often pushed behind. Sometimes the senior students took pity on the young ones and help them secure their prized ice cream before the box was empty. Laltoo is very kind by nature. His eyes often fall on the small boys not being able to penetrate the crowd. He calls them and gives them the ice cream. Those lucky to buy ice cream move to their classes back. There was no question of girls students to come out of the school gate and dare to buy ice cream in this peak hours. They would idle in the classroom even during the recess period and ate whatever they had brought. Often they brought parched gram and jaggery for their tiffin. In those days, there was no concept of tiffin-box. The girls would move in groups and rarely spoke with the boys. Their education in villages would be limited to passing middle school and even the brightest of girls would rarely take admission beyond the tenth standard. They would be married off before they reached the fifteenth year of their age. Some of the boys move to the nearby hearth hut run by an old woman for roasting of the raw gram, maize or any other grains available in their homes for tiffin. Here too, the crowd would be big enough for the weak ones to get access to the old women for roasting their grains. By the time these junior students get access to either Laltoo’s ice cream or this old woman’s hearth, the bell would ring indicating the end of the recess. If on any day, Laltoo’s ice cream didn’t sell fully, he would barter his ice cream for grains in the villages through which he passed. By three o’clock, he would be back home.
Laltoo’s father, Sitaram, had half an acre of land inherited from his ancestors. He used to produce vegetables from his farm and sold the produce in the market and nearby villages. This was the only source of income for the family. Once, Laltoo’s mother, Savitri, was going to the marketplace for selling the vegetables from her fields, a truck from behind could not control its speed and hit her in the right leg. The impact was so severe that she lost complete sensation in half her body. Laltoo was two and his sister was five then. Savitri was to be hospitalized in the district civil hospital for treatment. Even after several operations and months-long treatment, there was hardly any improvement in her condition. Although, this was a state-owned hospital, yet the cost of medicines were exorbitant for Sitaram. As a result, part of the ancestral land had to be mortgaged for meeting the hospitalization cost. She remained bedridden and seeing no hope of improvement, she was discharged from the hospital. Sitaram was emotionally devastated. His wife, so far an asset in the family household, became a burden on the resources. Half of the land was gone, the remaining was hardly sufficient for running the family expenditure. The regular expenditure on Savitri’s medicine was an additional load.
Laltoo was too young to realize this hardship then. His sister, Sitara, at a tender age of about six, became in-charge of the household. Initially, some relatives came and helped, but it soon fell on Sitara and Sitaram. Sitaram was hand to mouth in meeting two square meals for the family. Much to the chagrin of Sitaram, he couldn’t afford a decent food and clothing for his children what to speak of education! When Laltoo was six years old, he could go to the village school but dropped out after the fifth standard. Sitara remained illiterate. To meet even the basic needs of the family, both father and son were working in the field. Laltoo, however, started working on a local brick kiln to supplement father’s income. His mother’s health deteriorated further and soon left this world of suffering.
Sitara’s marriage was of greatest concern for her father. In rural India, in those days, and even now in some parts of India, the girl child was considered a burden and let off in marriage as soon as a suitable groom is found. However, for Sitaram, Sitara was his darling. She was the star of the house. A thought for a moment that Sitara would leave the house, was unbearable to Sitaram and Laltoo. But, how that could be avoided! On the suggestion of a relative, Sitara was married to a trader in the same community. The remaining land was also mortgaged for meeting the marriage expenditure. In due course of time, Laltoo’s marriage was also solemnized and soon the couple was blessed with a son. Sitaram was happy but worried as well.
On one evening in the winter when the duo was basking before the bonfire under the Neem tree, Sitaram asked Laltoo, “Son, now we are the landless labors, I have mortgaged the land I never bought. This thought always haunts me. I am worried how shall I face my ancestors when I have gone from this world? I owe them a lot. I wish I could get my land revoked of the mortgage. I remained illiterate, but you can at least read and write. You promise me that you will send your son to school and let him study as much as he could. Through my experience from life, I could understand that education alone can be the liberating force of a man. Without knowledge and learning, we will never get respect in the society. You remember my words of advice. These words will guide you in the time to come. I am old enough to survive for long. I am also convinced that by working in the field or at the brick kiln, you can never earn much to support the education of your children. Try and start some business, even smallest one and God willing, with your hard work, you will succeed. ” Laltoo couldn’t sleep that night. He was engrossed in his thoughts, “How did my father, an illiterate man, advise me for my future in such a compendious manner and why now? Will he not live longer? What business can I start?” Next day he didn’t go to brick kiln. Suddenly, he remembered his maternal uncle, whose house was near to the ice cream factory. On his advice, he made up his mind to start selling ice cream.
Time passed by. Laltoo got his son, Ramesh, admitted in the same school where he sold the ice creams to the students. He expanded his small business and started taking the contract for providing catering facilities during marriage season or any occasion of soiree in the villages around the market. Now he is a proud owner of an ice cream shop in the market. His land is free from mortgage. People talk about his success story and respect him for his hard work in overcoming the sufferings. But Laltoo still prefers to be called as Icecreamwala. He says, “This newfound surname is my identity. This reminds me of the hardships my parents underwent.” Laltoo’s success has made him humbler. His only wish is to get his son highly educated.
Ramesh is a bright student. He devotes himself fully to his studies. But, students being student call him “the son of an Icecreamwala”. This often hurts him. He complains to Laltoo, “Father, some of my classmates do not address me by my name and instead call me Icecreamwala. I don’t like this.” Laltoo thinks for a moment and then speaks, “Son, never mind. Icecream has earned us our livelihood, being called a son of an Icecreamwala is the reality of your life. The title that let you feel humiliated today will surely be a moment of pride one day. Remember, no job on earth is small or bad if done with honesty and sincerity. The same boys will surely feel proud of you and take your name with respect when you succeed in your studies and in your mission.”
Ramesh had a profound effect on him after listening to the speech of his father. Henceforth, he never complained about being a son of an Icecreamwala. Ramesh passed High School examination with distinction and took admission in a city college for a pre-university course. Here his identity got modified to a bright student from a village. No one is bothered about his modest background. To his classmates, he is Ramesh. Whatever he does he always remembers the words of his father and analyses the impact of his action. When he passed his Bachelor degree in engineering, he scored the highest ever marks in the college and was awarded the Gold medal for his achievements. His parents were present on the occasion. The director of the Institute proudly invited the parents of Ramesh on the dais and introduced to the chief guest of the occasion. Laltoo never had been to such a function and was unaware of the formalities of the occasion. He could not control his emotions. He was sobbing! However, when he was invited to say a few words on this happy moments, he was lost in thoughts and for a moment couldn’t utter a word. After a while, when he gathered courage and remembered what his father had said about the value of education and from his own experience from life, he started, “l am not an educated man. I am an Icecreamwala and can hardly read and write, but my father told me the value of education. I still remember his words. Without education, a man can never earn respects. Education is an ornament of the human being. It is the first step for liberation from worldly pains and disparity.” Now, from my own experience of life that I have lived so far, I can say that “Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set.” Turning towards the students, Laltoo said, “Today, you are entering into an open world where there is no boundary wall of a college. The world is full of problems and you have to apply your mind to solve them. Life problems have different solutions at different occasions. God bless you all.” With these words, Laltoo folded his hands and sat down.
The Hall reverberated with a huge applause and Laltoo got a standing ovation. It was an amazing moment for Ramesh. He was dazed. His eyes were wide open. He never knew his father has learned so much from his life. His confidence knew no bounds and was ready to face challenges ahead. He was simply proud of being a son of an Icecreamwala and decided to change his name.
Ramesh is now known to the world as Ramesh Icecreamwala.
