The lottery ticket

I was getting used to the routine of waking up at 6 am, going for my daily walk, having tea at the tea-stall next to the newspaper stall outside the park, before returning home to the newspaper, TV, the novels and my kitchen garden.

I used to see him at the newspaper stall everyday. He looked to be in his forties, worked as a security guard in a textile factory nearby and was struggling to make a living. I was getting used to his routine too. He would come to the newspaper stall religiously at 7 am, straight from work. He would take out his neatly folded ticket from under his cap and search the results of the previous day's daily lottery, his eyes full of expectation. And it was the same old look on his face once he was through scanning the numbers; disappointment. He would then dig into his pocket and take out five rupees, and reluctantly buy a ticket for the day's daily lottery. The look of anguish on his face at having spent five precious rupees was heart-wrenching. I always wondered why he did that, why he spent five rupees everyday, instead of using it to buy food or clothes for his family. I decided to ask him one day.

I was at the tea-stall one day, enjoying a cup of tea, after my morning walk. And he was at the newspaper stall, going through his daily ordeal or finding out that his investment in the lottery did not prove to be profitable and spending five precious rupees on another ticket. I called out to him and asked him to come over and sit next to me. He look at me with an irritated look on his face and said, "What do you want? I dont have time to sit and talk. I have to go for my job".

"But I thought you were coming from there", I said.

"Yes, that was my night job. Now I have to go to the railway station. I work as a coolie in the day".

"Two jobs?! When do you sleep?"

"Sleep is one luxury I can do without Saab. And if you excuse me, I must get going now."

"Why don't you let me buy you some tea?"

The thought of having a hot cup of tea on that cold morning was a good enough reason for him to sit down and talk. I asked the tea-stall owner to give him some tea. The look on his face while he took the glass in his hands was like that of someone taking something very expensive and precious. It looked like a hot cup of tea was also a luxury he could not afford everyday. As he savored his tea, I asked him his name.

"Raju, Saab", he replied.

"Raju, everyday I see you buy a lottery ticket. And everyday, I see that you dont win any money. Then why do you spend your hard-earned money on the lottery?"

"For my daughter Saab."

"For your daughter?"

"Yes Saab. She's not well. And the doctor says that she needs an operation. And the operation will cost 50000 rupees. I don't have any money Saab. All the money that I, my wife and two sons make go into buying medicines for her. The money we had saved for her operation, our landlord took from us, as repayment of the loan we had taken from him. We begged and begged, but he refused to let us pay him later. Now, we have no way to pay for her treatment, and the doctor says, my daughter does not have much time left. But I'm not giving up Saab. None of us are giving up. I've got two jobs. My wife works in seven houses - washing, cleaning and cooking - in the day time, and weaves baskets and coir mats during the night. My two sons, one twelve years old and the other nine years old work at construction sites for twelve hours a day. We are doing all we can to earn enough money to get my daughter operated. We love her very much and are ready to do whatever it takes to keep her with us."

"If that's the case, why do you spend money on a lottery ticket everyday? Save that much money and you will be able to collect a substantial amount. Agreed, it wont be enough to pay for the operation, but it should cover part of the expenses."

"What about the rest Saab? However hard my family and I try, we wont be able to save enough to pay for the operation. And we already owe a lot of people lot of money. No one will lend us any more money. I buy a lottery ticket hoping that some day I will win, and that day my daughter will be all better."

Before I could say anything more, he gulped down the rest of his tea and got up. "Thank you very much for the tea Saab. May God bless you and your family. I should be leaving now." Saying that, he left. As I sat there watching him leave, I decided to do something to help him pay for his daughter's operation.

Over the next few days, after my daily walk, after I spent a few moments talking to him over a cup of tea, I went from door to door in my colony, telling my neighbors about the plight of Raju and his family. Some were sympathetic and donated some money, some were sympathetic and did not donate any money, and some just did not care. It was the children who really surprised me. Not only did they spare money from their monthly allowances, they also spread the word in their schools and collected a substantial amount of money. A week from the first day I had spoken with Raju, I had managed to collect a little over fifty seven thousand rupees. I said a prayer for the good samaritans and went to bed, looking forward to meeting Raju the next day.

I was done with my morning walk by 7 am. And Raju was at the newspaper stall, looking up the results of the previous day's lottery. The hopeful look in his eyes was exactly the same from the first time I had seen him. But today, instead of the usual look of disappointment after scanning the list, his eyes lit up with immense joy. "I won!! I won!!", he shouted, excitedly. It was heartening to see the look on his face. It was a welcome change from the usual pained look of disappointment on his face. I felt happy for him too. He was dancing on the sidewalk now, the winning ticket clutched tightly in one hand and the results sheet in another.

It all happened so quickly, its still a blur. One moment he was dancing on the sidewalk, the next moment Raju was lying in a pool of blood on the side of the road. The car that had swerved off the road and hit Raju had sped off, the under-age driver realizing that his high-speed joy ride had now become a flight from the law. A small crowd gathered around Raju. Someone asked, "Did anyone note down the number of the car that hit him?". Someone else said, "We should call the police", but no one did. While the others around him waited for someone else to do something to help, Raju breathed his last - clutching the lottery ticket in his blood soaked hand.