Rain-Iron-y

“Look here, Maadasamy”, said Marimuthu, the headmaster of the village school, “till date I have given you close to 10000 bucks in bits and pieces. You don’t seem to be getting anywhere near repaying it. What’s worse is that you are asking for more! You are over 50 now, how can I trust that you’ll return my money?”

“Sir, the astrologer said there’ll be rains this year. One harvest is enough to repay your entire loan, sir. I don’t know what to do for today. I also haven’t heard from my son who went to Bangalore on his friend’s promise of a job. I am not beg…(corrected himself) asking for my luxury, sir. I don’t have any money for our next meal. Please arrange 500 rupees for this month, sir. Please have a heart. It will rain in another month. I’ll return the entire money in two months… Please have pity on me.”

“Stop it, Madasamy. My answer’s going to be the same however you may rephrase it”, said Marimuthu. After a second’s silence, “I can understand your situation. But how can I give you when I don’t have any money myself? Here, take this fifty for today. Give it to Meenatchi. Please don’t expect anything else from me…”

A second of silence. The headmaster continued, “I’ll post a letter to Velu. I am not sure about you, but I have huge faith in Velu. He got the first rank in the entire village in his eighth standard. His only dream in life is to give you and his mother a comfortable life. Don’t let your mind wander. I have to start now…got a class in ten minutes.”

The astrologer has predicted heavy showers for the year. He had said the same last year too, but apart from the daily tears in Meenatchi’s eyes, he had not seen any other source of water. All crops were destroyed…the capital went with it. He had to take further loans to repay the initial ones. A lot more loans followed, to invest this year in the field and for daily expenses. Even the government turned him down, as he already had huge outstanding debts. He did not have any faith in the astrologer’s promise of a rain, but it did help him get all the loans till now. He smiled to himself as he thought of that.

A tear in his eye, a smile on his face. He cursed the rain with all his heart.

He decided to hand over the money to Meenatchi and take the pesticides he’d bought to the field. There were no crops to protect there. Why then, did he need the pesticide?
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“I argued a whole day with Baapa to get this done for you without a deposit, because you are from our village.” Muhammad said on the first day he gave out the books.

He had told Velu over a letter that it was the easiest thing in Bangalore to earn 100 bucks. He started from his village based only on that. His father’s honour mattered more to him than his studies, like it would to any loving son, but till date, after everything he’d been through, all he could save was 500 rupees… Velu was part of an illegal industry where bestselling books were reprinted locally for cheap money and sold on the streets.

Today, he couldn’t sell anything. It was raining continuously, and he could not spread out the books anywhere. He cursed himself for not being able to save a lot.

He cursed the rain with all his heart.

Irony.