All gratitude

I had just retired. The house that I had built was too big for me, so I rented out a room in the backyard to one Santokh Singh, a mechanic. In the first meeting itself, I had found something unusual in his personality. He radiated peace and happiness.

I had just retired. The house that I had built was too big for me, so I rented out a room in the backyard to one Santokh Singh, a mechanic. In the first meeting itself, I had found something unusual in his personality. He radiated peace and happiness.

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“Santokh ji, I shut the main gate at 10 pm, so you must be back by that time.” I told in a tone reminiscent of my service days. “Madam, that’s really good. It will keep me disciplined,” he replied with a smile.

A few days later, I noticed that he’d keep the light of the verandah on throughout the night. When I pointed out this to him, he said, “Madam ji, I am doing this so that people passing through our lane have good visibility. Please don’t worry, I’ll pay for it.”

One evening, a friend visited me. After some chatting, she remarked, “The rent you are charging is too low and I feel you should keep a tenant who is of your status.” I manufactured a story that my son was coming back from the US, and told Santokh to vacate the room.

On the last day of the month, he kept his word. While he was exiting the house, I found a small box in one corner. It had my gold necklace in it, that was not traceable for long. After a pause, I said, “Santokh ji, were you really not aware that it was gold?” He smiled and said, “Madam ji, I may be a simpleton but am not an idiot who can’t differentiate between stone and gold.” I kept looking at him with disbelief and reverence.

Looking at the departing horse cart, I was feeling too small and his stature looked to me too lofty. An unlettered person had taught me the meaning of life. “No complaints, only gratitude.”