Once
I used to stay
on the second floor
of a worn out building
which had only half a window
and a small view of the
nearby quiet street
which had one tea stall
where worked Raju,
the boy in striped pajamas.
There wasn't a day
when he wouldn't smile
or sing his favorite
Kishore Kumar songs.
There wasn't a day
when he wouldn't get
beaten up by the owner of the shop
for breaking a glass or two
when he would bring back
the empty ones spellbound
by the tunes of Lalita aunty,
the 70 year old classical singer
living on the ground floor.
There wasn't a day
when he slept on a nice warm bed
instead of the footpath
adjoining the shop.
I would always wonder
about the secret of his happiness
and everytime I would ask him
he would laugh and tell me,
some other time.
Time passed and
I moved to another city
trying to find my peace
between changing jobs
and finding love
and all this time
I would wonder
what made Raju so happy
so one day I went back there,
handing Raju a 10 Rs. Note
and told him,
today I'm not here for the tea,
I am here for the secret.
Before Raju could say
some other time
I told him
not this time.
Raju smiled, sat beside me, and
said - "I am content with what I have. My mother loves me. I am helping my sister study to become a doctor. There's not been a day that I didn't have food to eat. I have all I need - family and love. I am sure you'll find your peace one day."
After that day,
I stopped searching for peace
in all the places it wasn't there
because it was always inside me.
I was my peace.