Reward

Golu was elated. On a chair in the corner of the balcony, he sat gazing longingly at the currency note in his hand. Mom had given him ₹50 as a reward for cleaning his room. She hadn't asked him to do so, and neither had he volunteered. He simply did it, just like that. Mom felt proud, for her son's sense of responsibility, and decided not to let this go unappreciated; hence the reward.

Golu never demanded anything. Although he would always eye Dad curiously whenever he returned from work, Golu was never disappointed if Dad ever, though rarely, came empty handed. So far, the only times he had held money in his hand was to run some errand for Mom or Dad. And that was all money was to him. Shopping was their job. They decided what he needed and subsequently provided. In fact, he never bothered about the logistics of the things he was bought. He always seemed content.

But today was different. He had earned this. He didn't really know why suddenly something had started pumping rapidly through his veins, but it felt good. He sat there, trying to subsume this feeling of exhilaration. He had not yet decided what would he do with the money. He wondered if his elder brothers had ever won something like that. And what if they had? He decided not to blow over his newly-won laurels by asking. 

"Golu!". His mom called from inside.

"Yes, coming." He quickly put the note in the pocket of his navy blue shorts and ran inside.

Mom was in the kitchen. Her calls from the kitchen were generally followed by an errand request. His heart sank. The feel-good factor jumped out the window and wild thoughts started popping in his head. Was she going to spend his prize on house chores? Did she think she gave him too much? What if she decided he wasn't worth this much and wanted to settle for gajar-halwa instead? He loved gajar-halwa. The thought of it brought an involuntary smile to his face, but it faded as quickly when he realised that he might have to choose between his love and his latest feat. He sniffed. Nothing. There was hope.

"Yes, mom?". He asked from the kitchen door. Normally he would rush in, on the prospects of a visit to the market all by himself.

"Go check if the tailor's shop is open." She was arranging the kitchen. She was always picking something from one place and putting it at another. How did she even chose what to pick from where and what to replace it with? Anyway, this meant that there was no errand to run. He was always a good observer.

"And what else?" He asked to be sure.

"Nothing else. Go quickly. Just tell me if it's open or not."

"Uhh, mom?" He hesitated.

"What? Go quickly. He closes his shop earlier than usual nowadays." She was still busy putting something somewhere.

Golu took a deep breath and exhaled it all in one go. "Okay listen. Can I also go and buy myself something with that money?"

Now she turned to look at him. She saw the sparkle in his eyes and loved him for it. 

"What are you going to buy?" She asked adorably. She had been wondering what he would do with his prize money.

"I don't know. I was thinking that I would just go to the shops, have a look around and then decide." He wanted to run off before Mom suggested anything.

Mom found this idea interesting. She said, "Okay go, but come back soon. And tell me about the tailor first."

Golu found his enthusiasm back. He swooshed past the hall and ran out the main entrance. Down the street, around the corner, there was a spot from where the tailor's shop was visible. He climbed on the edge of footpath and craned his neck. Right next to a Peepal tree, the signboard "Kumar Tailors" was unmistakable. Inside the shop, he could see lowered heads of two men. He could even hear the faint whirring sound of their machines. He ran back to his house. He reached the entrance and shouted to his mom. 

"Yes mom, the shop is open. And I am going now, bye!" He ran again. Mom said something back but he didn't wait to listen. He was already halfway down the street. He could hear the rhythmic banging of his own slippers on the pavement. It was the sound of unadulterated joy. It was music to his ears. He ran faster.

He stopped only when he reached the road. There wasn't much traffic on Sunday afternoons. The market was on the other side. He hurriedly crossed over and paused to catch his breath. He was now in the market. He pulled himself together, looked around, took a deep breath, and started walking.

He stopped in front of the ice cream parlour. His favourite mango flavour cost ₹15. He started making the calculations on his little fingers. But then he checked himself. He could get an ice-cream any day. Today was special. He moved on. The next one was a toy store. He found that all he could get for ₹50 was a small plastic dragonfly aircraft. It seemed a waste. The next was a stationery. He asked for a word game but found that the price was too high. He came out and stood aside. He looked around. There was a general store, a barber's shop, a post office, an electrician's shop, and all other sorts of grownup stuff. He frowned. The opportunity seemed to be slipping away and he felt helpless. He wished he had more money. If he had more, he would stack it all up somewhere.

Of course! Why didn't he think of it earlier? He could save money! Isn't that what Dad was always advising? Only now Golu understood why. So that's exactly what he was going to do. Wait till Dad came to know. He would be proud. Maybe he would even hand him another reward for such wise decision! Golu's eyes were shining again. He quickly went back to the stationery and asked for a piggy bank. He chose one; pig-shaped, and sky blue in colour. The price was ₹45. He would even have spare ₹5 to put inside it. The day was just getting better and better.

Beaming, he grabbed the piggy bank in one hand and slid the other one in his pocket. His two fingers went right through a little hole.