My Mummy is So Nice: Hareshwar Roy
My Mummy is So Nice: Hareshwar Roy
It was morning. Sunlight spread across the paved platform in the garden in front of the house. Tiny dew drops on the colorful flower petals sparkled like pearls. A mat was spread on the platform. Ambu and his mummy were sitting on it. Mummy was busy knitting a sweater, while Ambu was absorbed in drawing a picture of his mummy with colored pencils. In between, he would show the picture to his mummy and ask, "Look mummy, is the picture good?"
To encourage Ambu, his mummy would look at the picture, smile, and say, "Oh wow, son! It's very beautiful."
Ambu was a fifth-grade student. Everyone affectionately called him Chhotu. While drawing his mummy's picture, Chhotu got lost in thought, 'My mummy is so nice! From morning till evening, she stays busy with my work. She always takes care of me. She doesn't scold me at all. Bathing me, feeding me, polishing my shoes, getting my bag ready for school, these are all part of her daily routine.'
Chhotu kept thinking, 'When I return from school, it's so much fun when mummy plays hide-and-seek with me. Sometimes she becomes a horse, lets me sit on her back, and gives me a ride around the whole house. When I gently hit her with a pretend whip saying, "Giddy-up horse, giddy-up," her speed increases! She also helps me with my homework. Whatever she teaches is so easy to understand. Why can I never fall asleep without listening to her bedtime stories? Why? Why indeed?'
Just then, his chain of thought was broken by a voice calling, "Chhotu! Chhotu!" His father was repeatedly calling out his name. Chhotu looked at his mummy, and she gestured for him to go to his father.
Chhotu was very afraid of his father and hesitated to go near him. His father would scold anyone over the slightest thing. He rarely ever laughed or smiled.
Before leaving for his office and after returning, he remained busy writing story after story with pen and paper. He was always giving Chhotu some instruction or the other. If there was even a little noise while Chhotu and his mummy were playing, he would end up scolding both of them.
"Chhotu, listen son," his father called out once more in a loud voice. He ran into his room. His father was tying his tie. A hundred-rupee note was lying on the table.
"Son Chhotu, I have to reach the office early today. Therefore, I cannot go to your school to pay your monthly fee. You go pay your fee yourself and bring back the receipt to me. And yes, carry the money carefully," his father said while handing the hundred-rupee note to Chhotu.
At the right time, Chhotu left for school. He carefully placed the hundred-rupee note in his upper shirt pocket. On the way to school fell a dirty drain where the city's waste water flowed rapidly. There was a small bridge over the drain, with railings on both sides.
It was Chhotu's daily habit to stop by the bridge for a moment and peer down into the drain. Today was no exception. As soon as he leaned against the bridge's railing and looked down, the hundred-rupee note slipped out of his shirt's top pocket and began floating in the air. Right before his eyes, swirling around in circles, the note vanished into the swift current of the drain.
The moment the note disappeared, Chhotu panicked, and his mind went blank. As he closed his eyes, an angry image of his father began to form in his imagination.
Turmoil welled up inside Chhotu's mind. He started thinking of ways to save himself, 'Oh, you've done it now, Chhotu! Just tell a lie at home, make up a good excuse. Just say that a big boy snatched it on the way.'
Just then, Chhotu remembered his sweet mummy's face. It was like a drowning man catching a straw. A ray of hope appeared in the deep darkness of despair. Instead of going to school, Chhotu turned back toward home.
By the time he reached home, Chhotu was exhausted, and a cloud of sadness hung over him. Seeing him like that, his mummy grew worried and showered him with questions, "What happened, Chhotu? Why did you come back? What's the matter? Is the school closed?"
Taking off his bag, which was useless for hiding his fault now, Chhotu placed it on the table and burst into tears in front of his mummy. He narrated the entire incident just as it had happened.
"It's alright, son. What is there to be sad about in this? You didn't throw the money intentionally. It was just a little carelessness on your part—just don't repeat it in the future," his mummy said, pampering Chhotu.
"But Papa won't understand all this, Mummy! When he asks me for the receipt, what will I tell him? I am feeling so scared," Chhotu shared his plight.
"Oh, so that's the matter! Come, I will solve this problem too," Mummy said.
"How, Mummy?" Chhotu asked curiously.
"Look, I have money in my bag. When we reach the school, I will pay your fee with that money. You will have the receipt. In the evening when you return home, just hand over the receipt to Papa—that's all," Mummy said, putting Chhotu's anxiety to rest.
Chhotu heaved a huge sigh of relief. Fearlessly, he set off for school with his mummy. On the way, he showed his mummy the drain that had swallowed his money. Meanwhile, Chhotu's mummy kept talking to him about random things so that he would forget the incident. They arrived at the school. After paying the fee, Mummy handed the receipt to Chhotu. Chhotu headed toward his classroom with the receipt, and his mummy returned home.
After school, Chhotu kept thinking about his mummy all the way back home. As soon as he reached home, his father asked him for the receipt. Chhotu pulled the receipt out of his pocket and handed it to his father.
At night, after dinner, Chhotu lay in bed with his mummy as usual. His mummy started telling him bedtime stories.
While listening to the story, when Chhotu began feeling sleepy, he placed his tiny palm over his mummy's lips, signaling her to be quiet. Once she stopped speaking, he whispered, "Mummy, you are very nice. I love you very much. I promise you that while going to or coming back from school, I will never look down into the drain again."
Hearing Chhotu's words, his mummy hugged him tightly.