A sense of duty





Shyam was a 8 year old boy. He lived with his mother and a four year old sister in a small house. His father had died two years ago. Shyam’s mother worked in people’s homes as domestic help to earn some money. Shyam went to a corporation school nearby. Shyam saw how hard his mother worked and he hoped to be of help to her once he grew up. For now, he took good care of his sister when his mother went to work and he studied well.
Shyam was an intelligent boy. He listened carefully to what his teachers taught. One day the science teacher spoke about the uses of plastic. When she asked the children to name things made of plastic, everyone had an answer. From colourful toys and lunch boxes to raincoats, parts of aeroplanes and computers, plastic is simply everywhere. But when the science teacher spoke about how plastic bags and plastic objects were polluting the cities, choking drains and making animals sick, the children fell silent. Shyam was distressed. Not only cities, even beaches were full of plastic bags and used plastic cups which got thrown into the sea. A huge island of plastic objects had formed right in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Plastic does not rot like wood and so it will only go on collecting.
Shyam looked around him while walking home from school and indeed he saw plastic everywhere. In a huge pile of rubbish, a cow was busy looking for food. She was biting into a plastic bag which contained thrown away food. He thought about it the whole evening. He wondered what would happen if the world got crowded with as much plastic as people. That night he had a dream that he was living in a plastic filled city. It was hot like a furnace and he could not see a single tree or even mud. There were plastic bags flying everywhere. Then, like the cow he had seen at the garbage bin, he also swallowed a plastic bag which came flying to him. He tried to scream but his voice was choked. Shyam was terrified. He woke up and ran to his mother. Thank God it was only a horrible dream. Then the cow came back to his mind. Would she not have also choked? Or would she have suffered from stomach pain and died?
Shyam saw people going into the big supermarket on their road and returning with huge plastic carry bags with the shop’s name on them. They looked good no doubt but it worried Shyam. People bought things in these bags and then just threw them away.
The next day, during craft period in school, their teacher taught the students to make carry bags from old newspaper. She showed them how to punch holes and put in handles made of used bits of rope. Shyam was excited. He made a nice big bag with a newspaper and ran home to show his mother. She was very happy to see his effort.
Shyam thought of putting the bag to use. He went to the big shop carrying it. He waited outside. When the guard got busy with a customer, Shyam quietly slipped inside the shop. He was astonished at the variety of things stacked in the supermarket. He was only used to buying things for his mother from the dusty little corner shop owned by an old man. He weighed and packed things in bits of old paper. Here everything was neatly packed in shiny plastic. People pushed carts and simply collected the things they wanted. Shyam observed them going to the counter and paying unimaginable amounts of money. A boy put all the things in a bright big plastic bag and gave it to the buyer.
Shyam waited near the counter. He looked at each customer. There were smiling women and stern-looking men. They were all well dressed. Shyam looked at himself in an old shirt. How could he talk to anyone here? Shyam felt afraid and thought he could be thrown out by the uniformed guard. He decided to quietly slip away.
Then the cow choking on plastic came before his eyes. She seemed to beg Shyam to do something for her. He decided to be brave and make an effort.
When a fat smiling old woman came to the counter with her trolley full of purchases, Shyam meekly went up to her. ‘Amma’, he said, ‘our teacher told us how harmful plastic bags are. They hurt animals and they spoil the city. They go into drains and when it rains, all roads are flooded. Amma, I have made this bag from an old newspaper,’ he held it up to her, ‘can I give it to you to put your things in?’
The lady was too astonished to reply immediately. Meanwhile the employees of the shop also heard the exchange and the manager came. ‘who are you and why are you troubling this lady?’ he asked in a gruff voice. Shyam was too frightened to answer. ‘get out’ shouted the manager, pulling Shyam by his arm.
Everyone was looking at the scene Shyam had created.
When he was almost pushed outside, the lady called. ‘One minute’ she told the manager, ‘this child is so sensible. He has a much better sense of responsibility than you and me. Here child, give me your bag. I will pay you a rupee for it.’ She took the bag from Shyam, removed her things from the plastic bag and put them into it. There was stunned silence everywhere. Shyam felt too afraid to look up. The lady came near him, lifted his chin, patted him on the shoulder and gave him a shining one rupee coin.
‘I am proud of you’ she told him, ‘make more bags for me. I will give my friends some too. Come to my house to collect old paper and bits of rope. I will get you the gum for sticking the paper. You can ask your friends to join you and all of you can earn some money while doing a wonderful social service.’
The lady asked the manager if he could keep the paper bags near the counter and let Shyam and his friends be there by turns to tell people about their effort. Those who wished could buy their bags to carry their things.
The manager agreed.
Shyam was delighted. He promised to go to the lady’s house the next day with two of his best friends. As Shyam raced home to share the news with his mother and sister, he saw a puppy trying to eat something which was tied inside a plastic bag. He shooed away the puppy, took the bag and emptied it. As the puppy came back for the slice of stale bread which had been thrown away with the plastic, Shyam felt happy that he had saved a small animal just once at least.
By
Meera Balachander
24th May 2010