My Memories 2........ Manroo

As I watched 'Taare Zameen Par' for the fifth time, the protagonist of the story 'Ishaan' reminded me of someone, his nature his mannerisms and his features all seemed familiar.

I pondered who could it be? Then all of a sudden it zapped me. Yeah!!!He resembled 'Manroo' in every way.

Blast from the past, I thought as I went down memory lane. As ten year olds nothing really mattered to all of us. I mean me and my cousins.

For us we used to look forward to school summer holidays and spending it in our native village. The elders never interfered in what we did. We romped across the entire village entering every possible house, playing with all sundry that would come our way.

'Manroo' would come to play with us everyday. I actually don’t know what his real name was but we all called him 'Manroo'.

Manroo came from a poverty ridden background and lived behind my aunt’s house. His father was a primary school teacher and he had two brothers one elder and one younger.

His father found it hard to make ends meet. Moreover I always found his father worried while his mother worked tirelessly. His brothers pitched in to help their parents in all their chores.

Manroo was different. He lived life his own unique way. He played with us and accompanied us everywhere. His family’s trials and tribulations just did not matter to him. He lived his life king-size in his own way.

He did not speak much. I once saw him talking to a jackfruit. This was very strange to me. On asking him he said yeah I do it often to many of the fruits here. I just tell them what wonderful fruits they are and they should be good and grow well.

Manroo would tour us around the village and would introduce us to all the flora and fauna there. His knowledge on the plant kingdom was par excellence.

This is a wonderful fruit he would say plucking few off the plant and passing it on to us. Eat it, it’s a berry. We would collect the edible ones off the plants/trees and eat them till we puked much to the horror of the elders.

I learned a lot of pebble games and fishing in the village stream all aka Manroo. I never saw Manroo study or help his parents or any of his family members. He was not bothered about his family’s penury.

He just lived the life that made him feel good.

For all of us city dwelling children, Manroo was a simple village boy. He never had good clothes and I believe he never slept on a full stomach.

Nevertheless, one thing which I remember clearly about him was that he would never eat at our place. Meal times would always be with his family no matter how frugal it was.

Once out of curiosity, I asked him Manroo what was for lunch. He replied smiling dal, rice and pickle. I might have asked him dozens of times and the answer was always the same.

My aunt’s family was affluent and on a normal day we had good meals. No matter how much we forced Manroo he would never eat at our place. I always found Manroo so happy and content. Nothing in this world ever troubled him.

Academically, Manroo was not as bright as other children there in the village. Socially too he did not match any of the children. Yet everyone liked him and accepted him as their friend without any inhibitions.

Once when he did not come to play with us we went to call him. I was appalled to see his house and his living conditions. It affected me immediately though it did not matter to him at all.

He welcomed us to his house and made us quite comfortable. We played at his place for the first time. He served us black coffee which we all relished so much not knowing then that milk was a luxury for the family.

Years passed. My aunt left the village and settled in the city and we lost all contact with Manroo and the other children from that village.

Recently, when I visited my cousin in Mumbai, she casually asked me whether I remember Manroo. Of course I said. He was always on my mind but it was just too long back.

She told me Manroo was a banker now. He was a manager of a reputed bank and doing very well in life. His brothers too were doing well. That was the best news I had heard. Further she told me that Manroo had built a large house and was very well settled with his family.

Beyond this good news my cousin could not give me any further information on his present whereabouts. I am so curious to meet Manroo and his family. This definitely is one of the many success stories of India and I found it worthwhile to write about it here.

Manroo, if you by any chance read my blog, please do write back. It would be a pleasure to be in touch. I am sure you will remember me and my cousins who used to come from Mumbai. You are so much etched in our minds.

I am so very happy at this very moment as I post this.

This is one great real life story which has a fabulous end. Don’t you all agree??