The Guest
It was an august gathering in a large high-tech hall with all intended special effects at work and some light sweet music in the background play.
Promptly, at the time fixed for the occasion, the huge hall came to be occupied in full -- the success- crazy female lot for all the majority.
Shortly the start was given to the programme. The chief guest was welcomed and she stood up ; with a soft hem, Mrs Meena Pennur began her short but we'll - thought ,to the point speech, much to the ready impact of the listeners and close followers.
They were, most of them, the lot to appreciate and laud her for anything and everything she muttered.
At the simple wave of her hand her audience felt gratified and happy.
As all the eyes we're focused on her, Meena opened her guest- speech in a deep emotional voice.
She spoke briefly fo for a few minutes about the market world, business and the competitive world of making money.
Suddenly she changed her voice and began afresh narrating her personal experience: what had brought about a loud emphatic change in her essential nature.
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Mrs Meena Pennur, was born in a recognizably a rich family,in a hilly town, Coorg in South India . At one time, the only child of her parents ,was pampered and brought up by them as if she were a real princess.
She developed a natural superiority complex, a certain ego ,which often dictated her haughty behaviour.
In the U.S after her graduation she had done her Master's in Business and it's allied subjects and was soon the chief of most of the organisations of which she held large shares and capital assets.
She was now,in her early seventies, and well renowned for her charity and philanthropic ideals as well. But in her early thirties, she was different ; and it was because of her life style and people around her who simply praised her for her favours.
Meena's family had some decades ago shifted to Mumbai having sold all their property, except a coffee - estate close to the National Highway.
After the death of her parents, Meena decided to sell the estate. Accordingly, at the request of the negotiator for the deal ,she paid a visit to Coorg ,her old town.
As usual the road had become clumsy and hard because of sudden, heavy rains and an irregular landslide here and there .Adding to the trouble was the break- down in the engine of her car - Audi, the imported one. With amusing jerks, the vehicle came to a halt and would
not budge an inch. The rains took their triumphant, funny amusement pouring heavily even as she sheltered herself within with doors all closed and the AC doing the warming work .
It could not go on for long. Frantic this time Meena just looked out as an umbrella appeared at the car window.
A young teen-aged boy was there showing his teeth in a friendly smile. He asked the lady to open the shutter .
She was conducted to the small tiled- house up a close -by mound from where the boy 's mother, a middle aged yet strong and hard looking woman ,came out to welcome her.Instantly the woman recognised Meena and wished her.
'Madam could you recognise me.....and this boy here...? '
Meena was baffled this time but ventured to say
' No'
'Some two year's ago we had come to meet you for getting my son admitted to your Royal School. My husband was killed in the landslide then ; and and we were struggling for our living'.
Waving her hand towards the back of the house she continued :
' Except for this tract of land we have nothing left. But we have now managed to make a farm over here.
We are happily settled now'.
Meena remembered how she had refused admission to this boy and had even driven the woman out of the school then.
She felt awkward and uneasy over the memory .
But the woman with her friendly smile and cordial gesture offered a warm seat for her guest and set charcoal fire in sigri for her to warm up.
Meena tired and now close to being exhausted chose to sit and warm herself up.
The woman went inside with her son and soon returned with a large cup full of hot coffee and some snacks in a neat tray.
Meena was helpless and needed some refreshment at that hour in that secluded place.
She mildly said :
'Thanks'
Never before had she relished coffee that well. May be the condition she was in, had induced such great satisfaction - a kind of gratification.
She really enjoyed the cup of coffee and finished the cookies with every sip of it.
She remembered, how always she was in the habit of discarding whatever she ate or drank ; and sometimes the best dishes and drinks even without touching them.
She always believed that to leave the eating plate half finished was a mark of aristocracy . She used to be even over - conscious sometimes and leave some delicacies untouched in her sliver plate or platter.
But truly she was satisfied now and looked complacent.
The woman who had introduced herself as Kaveri and her son as Ravi all the time behaved as if it was their duty to comfort Meena.
She would come out of her kitchen often and ask her if she wanted anything, and if she could keep herself warm enough.
She even offered to give her, her new unused saree if she felt like changing her clothes.
Meena slowly brought herself to normalcy, in the unforeseen , unprepared awkward condition.
Within minutes again the supper was ready.
Kaveri modestly came forward and set a small table before Meena. She covered it up with an embroidered piece of cloth and laid the limited dishes in front of her guest.
There was hot, steaming rice, a large bowl-full of freshly prepared hot chicken curry, a few boiled eggs, condiments and cucumber pieces cut in star- design.
Every thing Kaveri had managed to do with the help of her son Ravi. He had chosen the best hen for the occasion and dressed it well.
Never before had Meena seen such a simple , yet delicious and sumptuous supper.
Though the mother and the son denied to join their guest, they were obliged to join Meena.
who really enjoyed the food well.
The rains were unyielding and went on all through the night.
The next morning brought a certain freshness to the guest, though she woke up a little late.
She now had a look at the medium - size cot and the ordinary bed on which she had slept without any interruption or worry.
She had also been protected with a spread -over mosquito curtain. She was overcome with a strange kind of feeling now: gratitude bordering on penitence.
She came to the door and found both Kaveri and her son with a stranger who was introduced to her as a mechanic. Infact early in the morning, as the rains stopped , Ravi had run to the garage and fetched the mechanic.
Everything had gone well know and the car was ready.
An hour or so passed and Meena got ready for the day and also for her journey further.
The mother and her son would not accept anything in return from Meena either as gift or as any souvenir.
They both waved their hands with smiles as the car moved. Meena presently remembered ,and vividly too , how in the bygone days also they used to do it as she passed by their little house. Infact she had always ignored them and never bothered herself to reciprocate their friendly gesture.
But this time it was different........
She waved her hand ,and her eyes carried more complex a feeling as it were, as she moved away from them......
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Returning to the present occasion Meena closed her speech with eyes
glittering with unshed tears of gratitude or of penitence or both. She closed her speech saying :
' Whatever I have gained so far is only material prospect. But my one day's stay with Kaveri and her son Ravi really enriched me with the rarest wealth : fellow feeling' .
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