MANOJ’S UNABATING TALE OF WOES

 

MANOJ’S UNABATING TALE OF WOES

 

MANOJ’s TALE OF WOES did not cease with his brush with the law during Covid times. Just like the Tess of the D’ubervilles, misfortunes relentlessly followed him. It was cyclic. In between good things too happened in his life.

In the aftermath of Covid he recouped his losses, the rampaging epidemic had inflicted upon him. His workers returned to the Workshop. He had a minimum of ten vehicles to attend to per day. Life was a race. In the evening he had to shell out a total of Rs. 7000.00 as wages to the six workers. Yet he had enough to sustain the family. He could send his daughter to a far off College for her B.Sc. As she did well in her studies, she managed to secure admission for M.Sc. in another College still far away. Since Manoj was not well educated he knew very well what quality education did to people.

Manoj was happy to meet the cost of education of his daughter. He considered it his duty and a privilege. It was, apart from the College Fees and the University Fees that itself were hefty, quite a large sum much beyond his means. Hostel took off Rs.4000.00 per month from his earnings. It was not the end. He had a son too. Fortunately the boy was still in the School and he was staying with the parents.

The struggle was not isolated. It was what all the parents of the era were going through.

Manoj at times would be called to the spots the vehicles had broken down. One day the call was from Poonthura. It was a regular client. He reached there on his motor bike. The work took some time, but he fixed the issue and the vehicle was good for the road.

As he was riding back, it was somewhere around 8.30 pm, all he remembered was that a four wheeler had hit his bike at the back and he was thrown off from the bike. The four wheeler did not stop. He had Rs.13000.00 and his mobile phone in his pocket. He never saw them again. He fell unconscious.

When he came to his senses it was 3.00 pm the next day. He was totally blank. The Doctor told him there were stitches at three points at the back of his head.  There were facial aberrations. There was a deep wound adjacent to his right ankle. There were dressings on his hands and body. The pain was excruciating. There was partial memory loss. He could not identify his bike at all from the pictures shown to him. His daughter had to come from her college to identify his bike.

He recounted the stay at the Hospital was expensive as the treatment had necessitated a number of tests, scans and medicines. Fortunately for him some good soul had taken care of all that, though he didn’t know who the anonymous benefactor had been.

He said the Station House Officer (SHO) from the local Police Station had visited him at the hospital and had promised to help him in whichever way possible.

He was discharged after a week. The Doctor told him to take complete rest for three months. A day later he was back at his workshop because nothing would work if he were not there. After all he had to ensure the survival of his own family.

 He was incapacitated, yet his presence alone was enough to egg his workers on.

 

When we saw him at 9.30 pm on a Thursday, he said when he had tried to kick start his bike, blood started oozing out from wound at the ankle. When we suggested an immediate visit to the Hospital he said he couldn’t go like that as he presented a shabby sight as he was coming from the workshop. He said he would go home, clean himself up and visit the Hospital assisted by his son that night itself.

Manoj fights the adversity unfazed. He knows it is an uneven contest. But he was sanguine he would cross all the hurdles life throws at him.

We could only admire him.