The Legacy

It was raining for the last couple of days just like a typical monsoon spell. The placid atmosphere of the city had turned serene in the late hours of the day. The cemented highway surrounded by thriving green trees was humbly absorbing the down pour. The traffic was bleak and the melodies of birds were making the atmosphere ecstatic. Everything was so engrossing but he was rather indifferent about his surroundings and kept on rolling his rusty bicycle along the road.

He seemed to be a middle aged man with a messy beard and untidy brown shalwar kameez with a scrambled cloth wrapped around his head. There were few bread pieces hanging in the polythene around the handle of his bi-cycle. He was showing no concern to the heavy shower which was knocking him all over; making him wet from head to toe. He was only thinking about the conversation he had with his employer, who was moving out of the city and closing his shop. He was devastated. Usually opposite poles attract each other but when it comes to precariousness of life, difficulties attract more difficulties. He was experiencing the same. He already had a lot on his plate.

The best part of being underprivileged is that small little things can work as healer in worst circumstances. The mere thought of some memories lit his face. The faces of his little girls, one of them suffering from polio, were flashing through his mind. He recalled his jubilation when he first became father and his son was born. It was his first month at the shop and he distributed lots of sweet. He wanted to tell everyone how happy he was as if the job and son had made him a millionaire. His children and their little dreams were his life. He recollected the words of his son, \"Abba I want to become a doctor to help my sister stand again on her feet\", who was attending class 4 in a nearby government primary school. He always replied his son with a smile. Just when the modest wishes of his children blazed his unconscious he heard a voice abusing him.

He returned to conscious and saw a car\'s headlights facing him. The driver of the car was angry at him for coming on the wrong way. He took a side and conveyed apology. As he was starting again he heard, \"God knows from where these illiterate addicts come on road!\" The words hit him. They say that words are stronger than sword and there was no doubt in his mind about the truth of this statement.

Life had been very harsh with him. He had faced a lot of hardships in life since his childhood. There were times he had nothing to eat for two straight days. He always used to blame his father who was an addict that all his woes were because of his father. He promised himself never to revert towards drugs; \"I am strong enough to face life\", he thought when his father came home in a terrible state after a week.

Keeping up with promises is not a child\'s play specially when you have your ego and self respect at stake. He pledged to never quit but just a month later he left school in a protest for his fellows used to call him son of an addict.

He took a turn towards his home. He saw kids playing around in the water stagnated due to poor drainage. He was again lost in his thoughts. As he was paddling the bicycle, the worries about his future were swirling around his mind and he was losing the strength to break the shackles. He was jobless and he had no alternate to pay bills, to buy grocery, to even provide two proper meals to his family. He was already in debt of his landlord and was hardly able to meet both ends with the meager amount he used to get.

He was trying to find his fault. The words \"illiterate\" and \"addict\" were still echoing in his mind. He was illiterate because he was a drop out but he was not an addict. He failed to blame his father for the first time in life. He thought may be his children would blame him for their deprivation. He could now feel the helplessness of his father. The mere thought of being blamed after giving all he had to his family sent chills down his spine. He was terrified. The uncertain and desolate future prospect was hammering his mind that day leaving scars that no one can see. He felt as if he had fallen into a well of troubles, with no way out; vulnerable and dejected!

\"Hey come on, open your eyes\" said a young voice. He opened his eyes to a group of men surrounding him. He found himself lying on road with no clue of what had happened. People around him started leaving as he tried to get up and recollect the past few moments. Everyone was gone and he was alone to find his bicycle lying across the water standing on the uneven road. He realized that the wheel had struck in one of the many cracks on the road.

As he proceeded to pick his bicycle up he felt a loud thunder resonating across his body as if lightning had fallen on him. The heavy shower had once again started and he was helplessly watching the bread loafs he had bought from the last daily wage he got for dinner. They were all covered with mud and were no longer adequate for consumption.

He felt as if this was the last nail in the coffin of his normal days. He had lost the last hope for today and all the moral fortitude to face his family. It was getting darker with clouds and raining heavily; he couldn\'t find any silver lining. Everyone was looking for a shelter except him who is unable to think any more. He was neither a hero of a movie nor a super human who could turn the tables in his favor in a blink of eye; rather he was a person who had grown seeing his father giving up to the difficulties of life.

He habitually started moving and reached the door of his home. He couldn\'t gather enough strength to knock. He turned back and reached for a place near foot path where quite a few drunkards were lying. He was trying to figure out the culprit. \"Where I went wrong?\" He reflected. He found no one to blame but himself. His verdict labelled him the guilty and he sentenced himself a lifelong addiction of drugs - the last thing he could have ever imagined for himself.

He had unconsciously inherited a legacy of cynic, demoralized, and defeatist mind set. It is strange but most of the times your biggest fears become reality and you unconsciously start moving towards things you have feared the most.

Today his son hates him and his addiction. The son has always longed for small little things in life but has hope in future. \"I shall never revert to intoxication no matter what!\" His son promised himself.