Haji Saheb
School was over; it was the start of the summer holidays. The teacher told his class to write an essay on the person they admired most-their hero.
`Mine is Bill Games,’ said Savita. `I want to be rich like him!’
`I will write about Sehwag,’ said James. `He is the best batsman in the world.’
`I can not choose between Aishwarya Rai and Kalpana Chawla,’ said Meena.
`They are both so wonderful!’
`What about you, Akbar?’ the teacher asked.
`I am going with my father to his village to meet my grandfather, Sir. I will think about my hero after we return. But sir, please tell us, do you have a hero too?’ Akbar asked.
`Yes, I do and I will you about him when we meet after the holidays,’ the teacher promised.
It was a long journey to Premgarh. They traveled by train to a small town and then got on a bus. After a few hours, it stopped at a bus stop with a cement roof and benches. A big sign said: premgarh.
Akbar saw big, covered gharas, full of drinking water nearby. It was hot and the cool water was refreshing.
A man was waiting for them. `Welcome home, Ahamed Bhai. It has been a very long time!’ he called out to Akbar’s father and the two friends hugged each other.
`Yes! It has, Suraj. This is my son, Akbar,’ said Akbar’s father. Suraj Chacha picked up the boy and sat in the jeep. They loaded the luggage and drove off.
Akbar’s father pointed out the fields on either side of the road. `These fields belong to Suraj. The Wheat crop has been harvested. Soon it will be time to sow again.’
Akbar saw water gushing out of tube-wells and counted three tractors before they stopped outside a small brick house. Just outside the house, there was a big peepul tree with a Charpai under it. The old man sitting on it got up to welcome them.
`Haji Saheb, here are your son and grandson come to see you,’ called out Suraj Chacha.
Akbar’s father hugged the old man.
`Welcome home, my son!’ his father said.’ And how is my little Akbar?’
Akbar saw the twinkling eyes behind the glasses and smiled shyly at his grandfather.
`You must be hungry. Come in all of you,’ said grandfather and led them in to the house. They washed their hands at a hand ump outside the kitchen.
`Abba,’ said Akbar’s father, looking at the pipes leading to the stove. `I an see that the gobar gas plant has started working.’
`Thanks to Suraj,’ said grandfather proudly. With his help, the villagers have set enough gobar gas plants for all the houses here. Now the farmers can keep- their surroundings clean by using the cow dung. They use the gas for coking. The solid waste which remains n the plant becomes fertilizer for the fields. Three in one, they Akbar?’ he smiled.
Suraj Chacha took a long drink of the cool lassi and said, `it is with your blessings Haji Saheb. You taught us under the peepul tree outside, when we had neither a proper school nor a teacher here. You helped so many of us to study further in city schools and collages. But for you, I’d never have gone to agricultural collage.’
Grandfather turned to Akbar and said, `Suraj has paid me back fully and other girls and boys like him have helped their village in so many different ways.’
Just the postman brought a letter for grandfather. `It is from Surjit kaur in America,’ said grandfather. She is a doctor now and says she will be here soon to start a health center in Premgarh.
Haji, Saheb, she has never forgotten how you carried her on your back to the town hospital six miles away! She was only five! The typhoid fever would have killed her live if she had not been treated in time,’ Suraj Chacha told them.
`You must be tired. Rest today and we will meet again tomorrow,’ grandfather said.
When Akbar got up the next day, he saw the neighbors sweeping up fallen leaves and collecting them in sacks.
`We have compost spit,’ grandfather explained. `All the leaves are put into it. This gives us excellent manure for growing vegetables.’
Later, in the morning, he took Akbar and his father around the village. They saw the new school building with it airy classrooms. Different kinds of trees and flowers grew all rounds.
`This is our new school. Now that we have electricity, we can teach our children how to use computers. Suraj has bought two computers for the school. One of my old students has become a teacher in the city. He has promised to teach the children here during the summer holidays,’ grandfather said proudly.
`This is wonderful and very modern. We call it state of the art!’ said Akbar’s father.
`We call it state of the heart,’ said grandfather and chuckled.
He was also going to pick up the city school teacher who had promised computer lessons to the village children.
Their bus drove up. As they hugged grandfather‘s feet. Akbar rubbed his eyes in surprise. It was his class teacher!
`Namaste, Haji Saheb! Here I am, as promised, to give back some of the love you gave me as a child,’ he said.
He saw Akbar and said, `Hello Akbar, what are doing here?’
`Visiting my Hero,’ said Akbar, as he looked with shining eyes at his grandfather.
`Mine too!’ said his teacher softly.
Wherever they went, people greeted them warmly.
`Salaam Haji Saheb; how good to see Ahamed Bhai again.’
`Yet it is, Ansua Bai. And do not forget to boil the water before giving it to the new baby!’ Haji Saheb gave adviser to her.
They saw a young man riding a cycle. Grandfather called out to him. Then he took some money from his pocket and told him, `James, here are the three hundred rupees I promised you for new clothes, if you won a scholarship to the city school.
`Thank you, Haji Saheb. I can never repay what you have done for me,’ said the boy.
`Yes, you can, said grandfather,’ by helping other children in the village hen they need it.’
Within a few days it was time to go back. Grandfather drove up to the bus stop with Suraj Chacha, to say good-bye to Akbar and his father.
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