Rajat hurried along, his sandals squishing in the wet mud as the rain poured, and puddles formed everywhere. The swaying trees and howling wind filled him with fear.
He had started from school half an hour back. The other children who lived close to the school had already reached their homes, but Rajat’s home was across the river and up the mountain.
He wanted to reach home soon, or his mother would get worried. Gripping his umbrella against the wind, he walked quickly.
He reached the riverbank, but the river was swollen, swallowing the only bridge that led across it.
He looked left and right to find a path across.
Under a banyan tree nearby, sat an old man with a boat next to him, tied to a wooden stump. Rajat walked over to him and asked, “Hello, uncle. Can you help me cross the river?”
The old man looked at the boy, amused!
“Dear boy, do you see the river? It’s raging! It will tear to pieces whatever dares to enter it right now.”
Rajat looked at the river. It was bouncing and roaring, ready to spill over the banks. But he had to get home to his mother. He made up his mind.
“I know, but still. I want to cross the river. I want to go to my mother.”
The old man sighed.
“Don’t be silly; no one can cross the river now. Wait for the rain to stop.”
Rajat stomped his foot.
“Either you take me on that boat, or I will swim. One way or the other, I am going to my mother. Please, uncle, please take me across.”
The old man thought for some time. The little boy looked determined. So, he said, “Hmmm, it will be dangerous if I ferry you across the river. What can you give me to make it worth my while?”
Rajat searched his pockets. He found a ten-rupee note, some peanuts and a toffee. He looked at the old man, stretching out his palm.
“That’s it? Oh, this won’t do. If you want to ride my boat, you have to pay me one hundred rupees.”
Rajat gawked at the old man.
“A hundred rupees! Where will I get that from?”
“Go back down to the village, see if someone lends you the money,” the old man replied.
Rajat’s face fell. He trudged through the mud again, back towards the village.
The rain had turned to a drizzle, and an old lady was trying to collect clothes that the wind had blown away.
Rajat went to her and requested, “Aunty, I need a hundred rupees to cross the river to reach my home. Could you help me with some money?”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling around the corners. “Who asked you for it? The old man with the boat?”
Rajat nodded.
She continued, “Well since you need the money, I will pay you fifty rupees if you run around my yard and gather all the stuff the wind has blown away.”
Rajat beamed. He put his bag and umbrella near her door and began running around the yard picking clothes, sheets and a bucket that had rolled off.
Once done, he washed his hands and became fifty rupees richer.
Just ahead of his school, a shopkeeper was placing things from his shop on the top shelves to save them from the flood. Rajat went to him and said, “Uncle, do you need any help?”
The shopkeeper knew Rajat from his school. He was surprised to see him and enquired why he hadn’t gone home.
Rajat replied, “Uncle, I have to pay the boatman 100 rupees. If you can help me with some money, I can do some chores here, and then I can get home.”
The shopkeeper scratched his chin. Of what help could a young boy be?
“Okay, I will pay you fifty rupees if you help me pack up all my stuff.”
Rajat nodded and got to work. He passed all the items of the lower shelf to the shopkeeper, so that the man didn’t have to keep getting off and on the stool.
He also packed all the big stuff the shopkeeper handed him, in boxes.
It was almost three hours when Rajat finally collected the fifty rupees and ran back to the old man.
It had stopped raining and the river was no longer flooded. The old man smiled as he saw Rajat running towards the boat.
“Come, little boy. Let me drop you home, I am sure your mother is worried.”
Rajat held out his fist full of money, smiling at the old man.
“No, no, you keep it and buy a treat for yourself.”
Rajat was confused.
“But you said you wouldn’t take me across if I did not have a hundred rupees.” The old man laughed.
“Now, I did say that, but that was because you were being impatient. We had to wait for the river to calm down, and you weren’t ready to wait, so I said that to keep you busy.”
Rajat pocketed the money and sat in the boat. The old man dropped him to the other side soon. Rajat thanked him and ran home. He couldn’t wait to tell his mother about the old man and his trick.
Excerpted with permission from ‘The Impatient Boy’ by Poonam Desai in The Greatest Champak Stories: Volume 2, Puffin India.
