20 rupees note!

Its almost 10:30 in the night. Couple of clouds are shouting on each other, complaining and swearing throughout. After every short interval, their is one of them crying foul and pouring tear drops good enough to agonise the heart of an estranged lover longing for his partner in such night.
Out of the kick and what elders say 'alhadpan' I decide to go out and eat pani puri. Kolkata street food is a blessing for people staying single and doesn't want to get married so soon. Though I am an exception.  Nevertheless,  I dressed up, locked the doors and here I am tip-toeing through the mud filled ways being partially drenched in the rain, singing 'kahan se aaye badraa, ghulta jaye kajra'.
Spraying mud at my pair of cigarette pants carefully hold two inches above the ground and continous attempt to save my phone from getting drenched, I have made my way to the fuchka wala and here I am enjoying the carefully made to taste extremely tangy pani fuchka. Most of the shops are shut and I can only see two shops with dim lights. One is a cigarette paan shop and the other one is a daily needs pop up shop. Sudden thought of buying eggs for the morning and I walked in the pop up shop.
The lady must be in her late 30 but visibly much older than her age. Short heighted, dark complexioned, carefully parted hair with  stark red vermilion in the partings. I cant stop myself staring at her. Be it my roots to the village or the major part of life spent like that, I often get departed to that life when I see someone like that. This lady reminds me of many aunts and neighbors I have back at my  birthplace wading away the mud of modernism and living a life on the path followed by ancestors.
I ordered dozen of eggs and one airfilled highly inflated packet of  potato chips. I took out a 100 rupee note and flung towards the shopkeeper. All this while I couldn't notice the woman. Meanwhile she ordered something and the shopkeeper weighed 100 grams of gram.
The memories of your childhood doesnt fade even till the deathbed. Being born in a family struggling for survival with one super man called dad,earning for every one. Keeping away his materialistic desire, making sure that the education of young ones continue, all he had for himself were few pairs of khadi kurta and pajamas. The times when relatives used to visit and give us 5 rs while leaving. How that 5 rupees used to last for months? How our education were restricted to few gods and morals? We would read about a guy who takes his parents on shoulders for pilgrimage but this society never had a lesson of parents going all the way to fulfill their children's dream. Their million desires kept aside to ensure food, shelter and education. All that which is a part of the life lived and left back.
The lady held the corner of her pallu. I could clearly see a knot at the end. She starting unfolding the knots abd I had all memories being unfolded one by one. She opened the knot, childhood opened; one unfolding and l see myself happy with placed 5 rs note on my hand, other unfold and our little plans as to how will I spend it; another unfold and I saw mom opening her pallu knot recently returned from nani ka ghar; another unfold and I see few coins with zeera and turmeric with grass twigs; another unfold and I see few coins. The lady took out that 20 rupee note and was handling it to the shopkeeper.  I just could not stop, myself, asked her if I can keep the note. She got puzzled at the beginning but said yes with smile. I asked shopkeeper to pay her the rest from my money.
One the way to home, the rain was same and same were the people around. I wasn't caring about the cigarette pants anymore. The phone too was lgnored. I had to save another thing now. That 20 rupee note!

Raat!

Raat bat-baton me  shadab gujar jaati hai,
waqt ki bandishen, behisaab najar aati hai.
khil si jati hai jo, nikli tere sanson se hawa,
mere hothon ko sharam se chhu, sarak jaati hai...
raat bat-baaton........
bas kal hin mile the  panchhi safar me  beparwah,
Aaj aashnai si har raah najar aati hai..
Raat baat baton me shadab gujar jati hai...