A lost and found dream

Like the boy who climbed a beanstalk and found himself in a world of delightful treasures, chai-vending Deepu was led by his tree into a new world.

Those young hands, old friends of labour
And little minds, forbidden to dream
Call to a true friend, a helpful neighbour  
Their mist-covered futures to retrieve.

Some days the little bus arrived very early and was already trundling beyond the gates of the housing society by the time Deepu had got there with his tea trolley.

On other days, it was rather early and stood impatiently waiting for the children to climb on. But there was not a day when Deepu missed it.

He would gaze  after it as it carried its sometimes cheerful, sometimes drowsy passengers to that place called ‘school’

. Once it was out of sight he would continue to call out, “Chai! Chai!”

No one he knew had ever been able to tell him exactly what this place was all about or what these children did there. One day, curious Deepu decided to follow the bus.

The school compound was walled. The children went in; children of all shapes and sizes — some strolling, some running to meet others.

From a distance, their voices created quite a cheerful cacophony. When he got closer, Deepu caught fragments of intriguing conversation — about homework, about crocodiles, and about something called basketball.

Having found this wonderful place, Deepu saw no reason to go back to his dreary job. He simply had to find a way to get inside the school. He had gathered that no one would let him in. He looked around. And there, a little distance ahead, he saw it.

It stood just outside the campus wall, but it had extended its countless arms far into the grounds. It was the only thing that was allowed to go as deep as it wished into the secret confines of the school.

It was an enormous tree with large, dark leaves and lovely flowers — the most beautiful tree he had ever seen. It looked like a huge and graceful bird flaunting its plumage. Moreover, it was an easy tree to climb. He had climbed many more challenging ones before.

Looking up, he saw that there were many more such trees within the school, forming a ring around the building. As if he were in a dream in which he could do anything he wished, Deepu hid his tea trolley in a convenient place, climbed the tree, and easily entered the campus.

Moving from branch to branch in the dense clump, he looked in through the windows of the classrooms where different lessons were being taught. He observed keenly.

Deepu would return to the school every day. In a month, he had learnt everything an eight-year-old needs to know, and he now spent most of his time quite close to a third standard class.

Mr Swami, the teacher, spoke captivatingly of great kings, magnificent mountains and sparkling rivers. Deepu seemed to have found a splendid new world.

But one afternoon, a nasty surprise awaited him beneath the tree. Bhola, the eldest of the tea-vending boys, was standing there and looking up at him with fury.

Deepu was scolded and punished by his parents and his employer for playing truant. But what truly broke his heart was that he was made to promise never to return to his tree!
 At dusk one day, Deepu sat counting the money he had earned before returning home.
“Could I have a cup of chai, please?” said a deep voice.

Deepu glanced at the man’s face. He stared.

“You look very young,” said the man to Deepu, “Don’t you go to school?”
“No, sir,” said Deepu, “My brothers and I have to work.”

Mr Swami — for yes, it was him — sighed deeply. Deepu felt he must say something more, something to give him an idea of what a great thing he had done for him by teaching him so much. “But I can read, and I can write too,” he began, “And I know many things from books.”

Interested, Mr Swami asked Deepu some questions, starting from the very simple to the ones which he expected only the brightest eight-year-olds to be able to answer. Deepu answered every question correctly.

“Incredible!” Mr Swami said. “You really wish to learn, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” said Deepu.

“I take extra classes for my students in the evenings. It would be wonderful to have you there too. I can teach you for free.”

“Thank you, sir,” Deepu cried, “Thank you so much.”

After many difficult conversations with Deepu’s parents, Mr Swami managed to convince them to let him attend the classes for an hour every day.

Not unlike a boy called Jack in a fairy tale, who climbed a beanstalk and found himself in a world of strange and delightful treasures, Deepu was led by his tree into a wonderful world.

But many children who have never been inside a school bus must now be helped in and encouraged along. With determination and faith in a dream, it can be done.