Garbage: Short Story

Thimappa gathered the garbage with his shovel and pushed it on to the cloth sheet. It was at that time that he saw a small object shining through. He lifted one end of the cloth sheet and Santosh held the other end. Together they lifted the garbage, swung the sheet, and pushed the garbage into the truck. At that moment, Thimappa saw the shiny object fall down and roll off. A ray of sunshine fell on it and at the precise angle that Thimappa stood, the bright object glowed into his eyes. He was certain it was a diamond ring. He raised one brow, but it belied the intense surge of joy within. Thimappa stole a glance at it making sure no one else saw it, while pretending to focus on the job at hand.

“One last batch,” Santosh said. He focused on shovelling the remaining garbage on to the cloth sheet again.

“Pick it up,” Santosh said.

“Pick what up?” Thimappa asked with a tone of surprise.

“This garbage cloth sheet. What else? There is nothing else to pick up,” Santosh answered.

Santosh probed at Thimappa. The fact that Thimappa’s mind was elsewhere did not escape him. Thimappa became conscious of Santosh’s stare. He looked elsewhere. He gathered himself and picked up the cloth sheet to swing the garbage into the truck. Then they removed their gloves and cleaned their hands as per routine. They signalled to the truck driver that they had completed clearing the garbage. Santosh watched the truck leaving. Thimappa kicked the diamond ring away with his left leg pushing it into the gutter nearby. The garbage workers left with the job done. One of them, Thimappa, walked off promising himself that he will be back to take the diamond ring.

“Why is the breakfast taking this long?” Thimappa complained in the municipal workers canteen half an hour later. While drinking his hot tea, he whined, “Isn’t this too hot today?” Santosh gave him a scowl. “It’s your head that’s hot,” he said. Thimappa neglected him and hurried through his breakfast.

***

Thimappa left the canteen in a rush and went straight to the spot. He sat down and rummaged through the gutter, and sure enough in a few minutes, he spotted it. There it was, waiting for me, he said to himself. He smiled and picked it up in excitement. But as soon as he stood up, the wide grin on his face disappeared.

“I knew you were tense because of this,” Santosh sneered.

“Because of what?” Thimappa hid his hand behind his back.

“You think you are the only smart ass here?” Santosh smirked with a curl in his lip.

“Well. No…umm..err.. why me? Everyone’s smart,” Thimappa mumbled.

“I don’t know about everyone. But I am not as dumb as you think. And I am definitely not blind,” Santosh gave him a jibe filled with contempt.

“Ah.. I don’t. Err.. know what you are talking about,” Thimappa muttered under his breath.

Santosh was not amused. With a sudden movement, he held Thimappa by his left shoulder and twisted his right hand.

“Ahh.. what are you doing,” Thimappa cried in pain. “Wait, wait…,” he said and the diamond ring he held in his closed fist fell down.

Santosh jumped on it and grabbed it. “I am talking about this,” he said, holding the ring up. “Do you think I didn’t see it?”

“Look Santosh. Don’t steal it. I saw it first and pushed it,” Thimappa said with a raised finger.

“Steal? From a thief?” Santosh sniggered aloud.

“Look, but I hid it in the gutter,” Thimappa argued.

“That’s because I let you do it. And pretended to see the truck off,” Santosh continued to sneer at Thimappa, who now raised a finger on his chin. After a moment of contemplation, he realized that Santosh had cornered him. The tables had turned. It was time to share the spills.

“Ok let’s split the money,” he proposed.

“Now you are talking,” Santosh smiled.

“70:30,” Thimappa put his cards on the table.

“Go to hell,” Santosh yelped.

“60:40,” Thimappa made a counteroffer.

“You are getting closer,” Santosh smiled.

“50:50 then,” Thimappa relented.

“Now we are friends again,” Santosh laughed and pushed his hand forward to shake it with Thimappa.

They decided to get to work fast. They walked away together to find the nearest jeweller shop.

“How much do you think this must be?” Thimappa asked Santosh on the way.

“No one ever owned a diamond ring in my family’s past ten generations,” he mocked Thimappa with a hearty cackle.

“But still? You might have heard about it. In my family’s generations since the time of Shivaji Maharaj, no one has even heard about a diamond ring, forget owned.” Thimappa broke into a guffaw too.

“I have heard they cost at least 50,000 plus. Sometimes it can run into lakhs,” Santosh remarked.

“Lakhs?” Thimappa raised his eyebrows. “I will go back to my village and do farming all my life. Who wants to live in this city and clean its dirt?” Thimappa had a distinct air of dreamy melancholy in his eyes.

“Yeah. I don’t have a village to go to, like you. But I can find one,” Santosh laughed.

“You can come with me; there’s lots of room in my village. We can live there like kings,” Thimappa proposed. The two of them who were up in arms a few minutes back were brothers in arms now.

“Should we try this one?” Thimappa asked Santosh in front of the first jeweller shop they encountered.

“Yeah let’s try,” Santosh said and they went in.

The security guard at the entrance gave Thimappa and Santosh a head to toe quaint look. They showed him the ring and walked inside.

“This is not diamond,” the store manager said after scrutinizing the ring. He had put it through many scales and scans before declaring his conclusion.

“When and where did you buy it? Do you have a receipt?” he asked. Thimappa and Santosh gave a blank look to each other.

“No Sir. Gift from parents, in village,” Thimappa made up a story on the spot.

“Hmm. Whoever sold this to your parents as diamond has fooled them. This is some stone,” he said.

“Stone?” Thimappa asked.

“Junk stone,” the jeweller said. “I will pay 500 for this.”

Santosh gave him a scowl. “500?”

“My last offer is 600,” the jeweller replied. “It can go into some imitation jewellery,” he smiled.

Thimappa pulled back the ring from the jeweller’s hand. He walked out with Santosh pacing ahead of him.

“I am sure he is conning us,” he told Santosh when they came out.

“One hundred percent. Did you see how his eyes lit up when he saw the ring first?” Santosh concurred with him.

“Yes, it was only after seeing us that he toned down his enthusiasm,” Thimappa agreed.

“We may never have seen a diamond. But we see garbage every day. We are smart enough to know what’s not garbage,” Santosh gave Thimappa a thump on his back and they exchanged a hug.

“Let’s try another one. This time we will be careful,” Thimappa said. And they walked searching for another jeweller.

They found one after a few minutes of walking.

“Rubbish,” he said after examining the ring. “Not diamond, not even precious stone. It’s some glass,” he added.

Santosh and Thimappa gave him a scowl. Santosh pulled the ring back.

“If you don’t want to pay, don’t call it rubbish,” he reprimanded the jeweller.

He smirked back. “This thing has no value. If you have sentimental value attached to it, why are you selling it?”

“That’s none of your business. No, we aren’t selling it. And not to you definitely,” Thimappa retorted with boiling eyes and a clenched fist.

And they walked out of that store too.

“This store was too close to the other one. The earlier guy must have called and told him about this. They all gang up against innocent sellers. So he must have known we are coming,” Santosh postulated.

“I am certain, without a doubt. These guys are all the same. They gang up. They won’t give true value to our ring,” Thimappa agreed with Santosh’s hypothesis.

“Let’s go to another area,” Santosh proposed.

“Yes,” Thimappa said. They walked to the nearest bus stop and hopped on to a bus that came along.

“Last stop,” Thimappa told the approaching conductor without knowing what it was. It was better to go as far as possible from here, he presumed. Santosh gave him a thumbs up and winked. They were on the right track, he felt. After an hour or so, the bus reached its last stop and they stepped out. This is a new area, they said to each other. Here we will get the right value, they thought together. They walked in search of a jeweller and found one soon.

“Waste,” the jeweller said. But they continued. And went to another.

“Trash,” said another.

“Scrap,” said one more.

By evening, Thimappa and Santosh had knocked on the door of every jeweller in that area. They had learnt all the ways possible to call something garbage.

“Why is everyone calling this garbage? Is it indeed trash?” Thimappa asked Santosh.

“I still don’t believe it,” Santosh said, looking at the shiny object.

“It does look like a real ring,” Thimappa stared at it holding it between his  fingers.

“It is a ring,” Santosh asserted.

“But if this isn’t diamond, why would someone make a ring of this type of shining stone?” Thimappa asked.

“Was it auspicious for the wearer?” Santosh asked.

Thimappa felt Santosh had hit the bullseye. His eyes lit up.

“You are right. In my village, I have seen rich people wearing rings that are auspicious. We wasted time with jewellers. We should have gone to astrologers,” Thimappa proposed.

“But even if it turns out to be auspicious, it still won’t have any value,” Santosh said.

“Yeah, you are right. But at least it will be auspicious,” Thimappa agreed with hesitation.

“I don’t know about you. But I am not going to wear it, if has no value, even if it is auspicious,” Santosh asserted.

“Yeah true. If rings could bring luck, we wouldn’t be garbage workers,” Thimappa said in a desolate voice.

After a few moments of silence, during which both of them mused over their bad luck, Thimappa spoke.

“No wonder it was in the garbage,” he said in a despondent tone.

“Yeah, if it had any value, it wouldn’t be in the garbage, isn’t it?” Santosh had also lost all hope by now.

They stepped into a bar and drowned their sorrow in a few glasses of country liquor.

“This gave me some hope for the future,” Thimappa said looking at the ring through his glass of liquor. “Now it’s back to garbage cleaning tomorrow morning,” he glared at the ring with a sullen frown.

“Yes, I was dreaming of an idyllic life in your village all day,” Santosh whimpered in sorrow sipping his drink.

“Let us see if the bar accepts this ring as payment. I don’t have any money,” a drunk Thimappa said after a while, and presented the ring to the cashier.

“It’s a diamond ring, keep it,” Santosh reiterated to the cashier.

“Don’t give me junk. Cash only,” he growled at them.

They emptied their pockets on the drink and walked out. In the darkness of the night, Thimappa looked at the ring and showed it to Santosh.

“Goodbye, diamond ring,” Santosh said as they walked to a bus stop at midnight. Thimappa held it with the fingers of one hand and waved it goodbye with his second hand.

Then he stepped two steps ahead in drunken stupor. With Santosh cheering, he threw it as far as he could with all the strength he could muster in his right shoulder.

***

Loud voices emerged from an apartment after dinner that night. The apartment was fifty feet from where Thimappa had picked up the ring earlier this morning.

Mrs Vaidya shouted back at her husband standing in front of her open wardrobe. “Why are you fighting with me over my jewellery box?”

“Can you stop asking questions and just tell me where it is?” Dr Vaidya fumed with fiery eyes.

“Why are you meddling with my jewellery? It was just an imitation jewellery box. I take care of my jewellery,” she continued. “All my gold is in the locker. You don’t need to tell me what to do with it.”

“What did you do to that box of imitation jewellery? It was here till last night,” Dr Vaidya persisted. He had sweat drops on his brow even on that cold evening. “Just tell me that. I don’t want anything else.”

Mrs Vaidya curled her lip and said, “Oh! Now I know. It had the imitation earring you had gifted me before marriage. But that was twenty years back.” Then with a slight smile, she informed her husband, “I forgot about it. I threw that today morning. In the garbage.”

Dr Vaidya’s face looked like a lion who just had a haircut.

“Are you angry because I threw that earring away?” she asked.

“No!” Dr Vaidya howled and rushed like a cheetah down the stairs from his ninth-floor apartment.

The entire apartment looked out from their balconies in wonder at what they saw. They saw Dr Vaidya rummage through the garbage bin late into the middle of the night all alone. Little did they know what the famous archaeologist was looking for.

Dr Vaidya’s area of expertise was the Maratha empire. He had kept his team’s secret discovery for safe keeping without telling anyone in his wife’s wardrobe. It was a valuable stone ring from the annals of history that Dr Vaidya and his team had stumbled upon a few days back. It was an auspicious treasure that he had unearthed with effort. It was a gift given by Jijamata to her son Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj at his coronation in 1674.

***

This story was first published by Kathmandu Tribune, Nepal’s National Online English Daily pressing forward to contribute significantly towards English Journalism in Nepal, in their May 14th issue. You can read it here.

PS: Check Soulmate and Other Stories with a Twist here.