Faqeera (story)

FAQEERA ( STORY ) Some wounds refuse to fade. The scars are not visible but deep inside they 
keep on itching in spite of the best efforts one may make to put them 
behind.

This story is in the same genre.
Faqeera, yes that is how people called him. He lived on the alms given by the
passers-by. He moved around the town collecting banana peels in his bag, 
hung over his shoulders. He talked to nobody and begged for nothing. He 
worked like one possessed moving in the lanes and by-lanes of the town, 
collecting banana peel wherever he found. He could be easily spotted with 
his torn clothes, lean and thin body, barefoot, shrunken eyes and remorse 
face.

It was difficult to guess his age but he could be in his twenties.
No one knew when and where from he came or what was his name. He was 
spotted about a year back. No one could have bothered much and would 
have taken him for yet another beggar or rag picker but for the obsession 
he had with banana peels.

Beggars and rag pickers are a common sight and 
hence do not merit attention in a busy town. They are rather considered a 
menace. One has to be careful lest someone may steal some value from your
house or shop. He was considered to be a mental case and that is all. 
Beyond this, who had time to go into his history. 


Faqeera was different. He went about his job meticulously disturbing no 
one. At the end of the day, he would take his load of banana peels to the 
dumping ground and settle himself at the town square. It is where some 
kind-hearted men gave him some eatables on which he survived.

He would 
never touch the coins. 
Once in a while, the anti-begging squad of the Municipal Corporation would
come and round up the beggars but they never touched Faqeera. 
The mystery was solved when someone saw an advertisement in the News 
Papers with a photograph resembling Faqeera reading as under:
“Dear Pratap, 
Please return home. No one blames you for the death of your sister. We all 
miss you. …Mummy/Papa" with a note "Anyone reporting about this man, 
aged 22 years, medium built, will be suitably rewarded"


Suddenly Faqeera transformed into Pratap and became hot news. Police 
took him in their custody and informed his parents to visit, identify and take
him home. His parents came the next day.

People were curious to know the 
story now. This is how the secret of Faqeera unfolded.
‘It happened last year. Pratap and his group of friends were always at some 






mischief. They would laugh at others’ misery. Many times they were warned
but the sadistic pleasure they were getting from these silly acts outweighed 
all such warnings. One of their pastimes was throwing banana skins and 
watch if someone would slip over them and they could laugh at his/her 
expanse. Fortunately, there was not much fast-moving traffic in the street 
and no serious accident ever occurred. Most of the people who became the 
victims were neighborhood residents and would move away from a little 
embarrassed and muttering some abuses. That was all.

On that fateful day, 
they threw the banana skin on the street and stepped aside to watch the 
fun. There was not much traffic in the street as usual. Smita, Pratap’s sister 
happened to cross over the street, slipped over the banana skin and as bad 
luck would have it, a car driven by a youngster at a very high speed 
approached and in minutes Smita was under the wheels of the screeching 
car. It happened so quickly that Pratap had no time to warn his sister. 


People gathered in no time. Smita was badly hurt and was profusely 
bleeding. She was rushed to the hospital but was declared brought dead. 
Pratap could never recover from this trauma. He thought he was 
responsible for the death of his dear sister. He was responsible for the 
accident. He was responsible for everything that happened. He lost his 
balance of mind and one day silently left home. His parents were 
devastated. They had lost their daughter and their son was missing. They 
tried to locate him and finally put an advertisement in the News Papers.

Life plays some sinister games with us. Pratap’s loss was of his own making.
Every day there are reports of fatal road accidents and surely some one's 
mistake becomes the tragedy of somebody else. But when some of our very 
own are the victim, we become aware of the malady. 
 
 







 

Dear Shri Thyagarajan,
Thanks for your feedback. This is a true story with slight changes. In actual even pratap goes into deep depression and eventually dies.
At times, pranks turn into mishaps like this. There has been many cases of ragging in the colleges and other educational institutions. The practice of ragging was getting acquainted initially and with times became sadistic.