NAYAN'S TREASURE

Nayan drove his vehicle past the gravelly mountain, along the log forest, and waded through the muddy water body before stopping in front of the towering grey steps.

- Sarvamitra

“The last phase!” Nayan cheered himself as he looked determinedly at the large structure in front of him. If he made it to the top, victory was his. He parked his vehicle and slowly but surely made his way up.

One small mistake and his foot slipped. Nayan was left hanging in the air! Luckily, a branch sticking out helped him pull himself up to the top. He looked around proudly, a smile on his face. He had won the challenge.

To anyone watching, it was just a small boy running around a construction site, rolling an old tyre with a stick.

But in Nayan’s mind, it was so much more. While his parents worked hard at the site, his imaginary world kept him busy. He took a bow in front of an invisible crowd, then quickly climbed down the cement bricks and rolled his tyre away.

He sat down under the shady neem tree— the only one the builders hadn’t cut.

“Mangoes! Juicy ripe mangoes!”

Nayan ran out towards the sound and saw a hawker cycling down the street.

“How much?” Nayan stopped the hawker.

“₹200 for a kilo,” the hawker answered wearily, eyeing Nayan’s messy hair and mud-stained clothes.

“Wait... please...” Nayan requested and ran to his mother.

“Ma, can I have some money to buy mangoes?” Nayan asked, breathing heavily after his quick run. His mother placed down the pile of bricks she was carrying on her head, wiped her face with the end of her saree and crouched down to Nayan’s height.

“I have no money left for mangoes, beta. We get paid only at the end of the week,” she answered him honestly.

Nayan ran out empty-handed. “Can I have a mango now? I will pay for it at the end of the week,” Nayan said, eyeing the golden fruit, his mouth watering.

The hawker glared at Nayan, “Do you take me for a fool? I toil in the sun to sell these fruits. I don’t do charity.”