We have all heard of small towns having a man commonly termed as a Town drunk (or village drunk in case of a village). Have people ever tried to get into those persons (or similar people) lives and find out what is it that makes them tick the way they do? I have… Just once… After that I decided not to try it again.
I come from a little known town so I wouldn’t want to delve into names. There was one such man abhorred and shunned by all. No one seemed to know who he was, or perhaps no one cared to know. Most people would look with fear at him, children were pulled away from him whenever they moved close to him, and ladies passed him with fear stricken glances. Very rarely though did he approach people himself, many times he was heard screaming loudly in a voice even he might fail to recognize as his own (due to the lack of use of his voice box).
I was a curious youngster and whenever I saw him I would pester anyone near to tell me as to whom he was. I would usually get one of 2 responses – either they don’t know or some said that he was thrown out of his house due to his raged drunkenness.
There was a time in my life when I was going through a rough phase, and found a lot of solace in his company as he would generally be quiet when someone around him (irrespective of the contrary accusations). Gradually, I found him as good company and felt an invisible connection form between us two. I used to get some things to eat. After some more time, I began to leave a bit for him on the ground near him before walking off, not looking back as to what he was doing, but was happy to see it gone the next day I would pass by him on my way to work. Finally, one day I drew some courage and asked him about his past life. Not expecting a reply, I wasn’t disappointed in anyway when I didn’t get one. Seeing that he remained a silent spectator, in the coming days I began to pour out my own problems to him, and it gave me a soothing feeling being with one who was ready to listen without saying a word of neither admonition nor argument.
Things went on like this for some time, and then as things got better I became more engrossed in my own personal and professional life and hence didn’t have much time for him. After 2 weeks of not having met him, I made up my mind to go and check as to how he is. I was shocked to see him sprawled on the pavement with a high fever. I immediately got him admitted into the hospital, but it was too late… He soon passed away after telling me the first two coherent lines I had ever heard from him. The doctor did give me a small pad, telling it had been written by that man for me. I was very surprised as I didn’t know that he would be able to write, and curious too as to what he would have written for me.
In it I read things which I will be briefing to you now. He had noticed me for quite a few days and had begun to write this quite early. He had been an educated man with a decent family background from a village about 120kms away. He was a hardworking person and hence had earned quite well. With many in his village and many relatives too being poor, he put in lot of time and money in their lives, caring for them as his own. Sadly for him, he began to realize that there was no return in that love and no appreciation from all those people that he cared so much for. Things started getting worse and worse, and he began to feel depressed. His 2 sons got married and they went away to nearby cities. His crops began to fail and hence he became poor. After a few years his wife passed, leaving him alone. His fellow villagers had no pity on him (despite the help that they had received earlier), and left him as he was, even his sons ignored him as they felt that they had been ignored (but they had been well taken care of with them getting whatever they had wanted) by the father due to his constant thought of others too. Forced to sell his house and farm, he was left with nothing and nowhere to go.
Finally, he trudged all the way to this town 20 years back in shame along with the hope of something better happening. Being hungry and weak, he arrived in the village poor, unshaven and weak to the bones. Hence, right from then on, he was ignored and shunned. With no money for medication and food, his suffering did not ease, with only some people giving left over drinks and food for him to take, hence leaving him if at all drunk. He was forced to scrape for food leftovers from garbage bins. This continued for long until he met me, and after I was giving food, he began to feel strong.
That’s all was written in the pad of his, but the rest anyone can surmise. Have you wondered what he told me on his death bed was. It was just 2simple lines -
“I am neither a bad nor a mad man …,
I liked people a lot once but got no return”
