Page 110 - Musings 2022

Real Hero

Dhiraj Singh Pawar
2019A3PS0286P

The candles were shimmering brightly in the room. Warm hues of light were switched on. And
expectations were high, while the wife awaited her husband. Only the sounds of clock ticking

were present in the room, and Shanti’s slight signs occurring through movement of hour hand.

She was about to take a break, because the long wait was taking a toil through her temperament.
She is patient. Since evening, she has been like a farmer who is staring at the white clouds in

the sky; expecting, but staying patient because they can do nothing about it. The clock struck
8 o’ clock, when the doorbell suddenly rang. And she ran through the corridor to attend to the

gate. Peeping through the hole, she saw a figure, wearing black uniform and a black snapback

cap. Her husband took off from the home in the afternoon, in quite a huge hurry as if he was
late for an appointment. But he was wearing a khaki police uniform. And the man at the door

had similar muscular built, like an athlete, with his arms filled into the sleeves completely. His
hair was trimmed on the side. That is all that Shanti could make out from the peep hole. And

figure seemed exactly like her husband. Area was quite lighted up with the light shining behind
the man. Still, she had a feeling that she might need to turn on the front light. It must be her

husband, but why’d he wear the dark blue uniform? And be back on the exact time he had

promised. She turned on the front light as well, so the light shines above his head, reflected by
the cap and face still remains in darkness. It was a dark night and a woman home alone must

stay vigilant. The area had been very secluded with only a few neighbours at hand. She finally
opened the door. Shanti had been quite patient and vigilant at the doorstep, and the man seemed

a bit irritated after the huge time lapses. He spoke up in an indifferent, homogenous voice,

‘Good evening, ma’am! Here, I kept the parcel upon the side patio... sent from Mr Diler S.’ he
says while taking out the clipboard from his messenger bag that had stayed hidden from her

sight. She had missed the badge that lays pinned on his chest, that said ‘Mr Prarivrajik S’. It
was peculiar, perhaps the man was lost in life, she felt. For, the man with his built and

confidence ought to hold a respected job in the athletic fields.

Shanti shifted her gaze towards the parcel, too excited to open it, she grabbed it in her hands,
and saw the delivery man leave. He had the stride equivalent to her husband, and the back

profile could’ve made her mistake that man with her husband. Suddenly, she realised she
needed to thank him. She yells coolly, ‘Thank you Mr Privrajik!’ He turns his head back

110