“Why did you bring 3 Kg Coriander? How in the world shall we be able to consume it? All I asked you to bring was 1 Kg Aloo, ½ Kg Onions and 200 gm of Dhania!”, asked his shocked mother, as he stood there with a visage that told a silent story of pure and innocent act of altruism; a visage that by far was not ex-pressionless and by no means contained the signs of a single ex-pression. Though he did not answer his mother’s query, his ex-pression silently did ask her, “Why don’t you understand?”, as he stood there – speechless, with an invisibly visible halo of peace and calm.

Abhi was just 12 and propounded with the responsibility of bring vegetables from the local sabzi mandi of Sipri Bazaar. It was his first independent assignment, and was he more than happy to accept it; great pleasure. It did give a boost to his evolving self esteem. “I am a responsible person now and the health and taste of the family depends on me!” he thought as he strolled his way on rubber slippers, with a home made ‘Thaila’ folded in his fists. His mother knew that he was a dabbler in the art of choosing the best and fresh pieces from the huge plethora, so she gave him a very vivid list – containing three columns, viz; Item, quantity and physical description. For example, Aloo(Potatoes) – 1 Kg – Smooth, big and well rounded; Bhindi(Lady’s finger) – 1 Kg – soft, small, fresh green, and test by fracturing from the tip!

As he entered the Market, he could hear the venders’ advertising through stentorian cries of what they sold and how much for they sold. As he came inside the open air market, and walked past the bamboo stalls, the sounds increased with respect to his depth of exploration. He would only buy from the third stall, after confirming the prices from at least two stalls; for he was learning the most important lesson of timid pecuniary savings practiced in the Great Indian Middle Class; moreover all the savings contributed as his ‘hard earned pocket money’.

Amidst this cacophonous atmosphere, he saw the silhouette of a frail figure. What was so captivating about it - he didn’t know (and I don’t think, he would have thought about this point either). He only took orders from his subtle intuition and walked towards it. An old woman was sitting idle, quietly, with bundles of coriander lay on a jute cloth. He noticed some melancholy in her countenance and decided to approach her. His very sight gave the twinkle in her sad eyes a chance to flash again. “Beta, Would you like buy some Dhaniya?” asked the old lady with enough hope to save the world. “I have already bought it, Amma” replied Abhi. All the hope sank in the moistness that covered her eyes as she heard his reply. “I do not understand the policy of God. When I didn’t need money, I was able to sell the double of this in a matter of couple of hours and now, when I need to buy bangles for my grand daughter in her marriage, He is not sending a single customer.” She complained. The conspicuous agony that glimpsed through her words, with pure ex-pression of disappointment, overwhelmed Abhi’s conscience. He walked with all she had leaving her in a happy bewilderment. He had spent all that he saved on what only few could buy – loads of self respect.

For many regular visits to the same market, that increased his experience in dexterously dealing with venders, he could not find that old lady in the market again. He was suspicious with an unknown fear. He enquired but all were too busy to give heed to his useless query about an anonymous old lady with a coriander. As time flew, it also kept filling his memory with other ideas and feelings. But lo! Today he saw the same sight which he saw some full moons away. He approached her, relieved, and smiling, recollecting his simple gesture of help, that always swelled his chest with self pride. “Amma aaj Dhaniya nahin dogi?” he asked. Her eyes seem to sink like a worn out Sun in the ocean of dried tears; and left Abhi’s simple heart terrified. “What is the matter Amma? Did you buy bangles for your grand daughter?” “Beta, the bangles broke before she could wear them. Her fiancé could not survive the bullet on the Himalayas, as he went down fighting for his country.”

“Why didn’t you buy anything today, Abhi? Was the mandi closed? Now don’t tell a lie.” “I didn’t feel like buying anything today, Mummy” and said nothing more as he stood there with a different ex-pression that asked the same question, “Why don’t you understand?”; as he stood there - speechless in the invisible funeral of the martyr.