Yateem

Yateem was a special kid, ever since he had come to work in the same restaurant as him, the elderly Rakesh had taken a liking to the young fella. He had appeared one day out of nowhere, hungry, in tattered condition. He had just stood there outside gaping at the people chewing on there food, talking, enjoying, bitching everything, totally oblivious to his existence. Rahman bhai the aged propreitor of Rahman Eatery had from his high seat on the cash counter seen the young lad, an eyesore standing in front of his restaurant, but it must have been his lucky day that the old gentleman saw more than just a hungry boy, he also saw the fire in his belly reflected in his eye, a pride which did not let his hands rise to beg, he just stood there gaping at the food as if trying to fill his hunger from there itself.
Rahman beckoned Rakesh the supervisor and told him to see if he could find some work for the lad in the kitchen.
"Do you want food" he asked the boy
Surprisingly the kid moved his head for a no.
Rakesh understood "it's ok, you can work for it, take this knife and start chopping the onions" Ankit you show him how.
Ankit an older lad of 16 took him through the backdoor, got him washed up, gave him an apron and showed him how to cut onions into thin slices for the salad and fine choppings for the cooking."Like this, thin and be careful don't cut your, blood comes out, it hurts like hell and you'll probably get scared at its sight."
From the moment he got down to slicing his first onion he seemed a natural at it. The young lad got down to what he was told to and chopped and chopped, it seemed that the hunger in him instead of sapping him of energy gave him the kick to cut more and more. After finishing off a whole batch of onions Amit a younger lad of 8 handed him a plateful of rice and curry, the lad looked at Amit and then at Rakesh who with a waved his hand "yes yes have it, and be fast, there's more work to be done"
After a whole lot of peeling and chopping the day finally ended. When all the utensils had been washed and the windings up done they all sat down for a cup of tea; "So young lad where are you from?" Rakesh asked
The young kid didn't say anything but looked down nervously. "Tell me your name, which jhuggi u come from, what does your father do?"
"I, I, I have no father..."
"Arrey yeh to yateem hai" cried out Ankit
Rakesh realised there was something that troubled this kid, he had seen many cases before, he didn't want to push the kid any further. "Fine then you can stay with us" Meenu the little girl who used to wash the plates hugged him "yateem bhaiya" , not knowing in her innocence what she had said and with that the christening of the young lad took place.
That had been an year ago since then Yateem had grown, adapting well to his environs. The mornings began with all the kids running to the nearby municipal garden to bathe under the hose while the gardner was away tending to other parts of the garden, having a quick breakfast of poha or something with tea and then starting all the preparations, laying out tables, preparing curries and all, chopping veggies, chicken, mutton. If he had been good at chopping veggies there was nobody better than him when it came to cutting meat. He sliced the meat into chops at the right places and angles even Rahman kaka was impressed by his skill.
But it was not just this that endeared him to the others at the eatery. He was a lively fellow, no game of teen patti was complete without all witty comments on the cards and luck. He could drink two whole bottles of their local brew and yet throw darts with deadly accuracy. He was also kind infact the only thing that pissed of Rahman kaka was that he did not turn away any beggar coming for food, infact it really got him heated up and almost got Yateem a whacking but for the intervention of Rakesh, whose counsel Rahman heeded, who explained to him that on Yateem's instructions meenu would salvage leftovers from the plates before washing and it is this food that Yateem distributed. This not only shocked Rahman but also pleasantly surprised him.
This was Yateem an year into their lives, they didn't know where he came from and he didn't offer any explanations all they knew was that he was an honest, hardworking chap, with wit on his tongue and kindness in his heart. Rakesh really didn't know why but his eyes got moist thinking of this one year that had gone. Yateem was like a son he wished he had. He dried his moist eyes and started reading the newspaper and sipping the chai. Newspaper to him was as entertaining as the movies, you could find enough thrillers, melodramas in the stories, there was also talk abtout sex and astrology and all that at much cheaper price than that of a movie ticket. There was something about two young co-stars of a serial who had finally declared they were a couple long after all the world had said that they were a couple. Then there was this murder case in Delhi, the police it seems had while trying to solve another case stumbled across the remains of another chap. He had been chopped up into nice little pieces, stuffed into a gunny bag and burried in the jungle. The police had traced him to a jhuggi in delhi from the plastic covered ration card. He was a well to do butcher and used to lend out money to the other jhuggi dwellers. He used to stay alone with his young son of 10 years. It seems he had been sexually exploiting a woman who couldn't return the money she borrowed. Finally it seems she had comitted suicide. Two days later the butcher had gone missing, his son had come home that day but then he had gone missing too. That is where the trail got cold, the butcher's remains had been found but the son could not be traced. Suddenly it seemed for Rakesh that the air had gone cold and his breathing shallow. He folded his newspaper finished his last sip of tea and called out "Get moving you lazy buggers, we haven't got all day, look at the tablecloth why is it not aligned right, who washed these glasses the sewer looks cleaner than them" and as another day at Rahman Eatery had begun.