Shopkeeper Isn't Rich

Work is hurrying up; they took not more than a week to raise a two-floor building from a rigid basement. The buildings which began long back are still on the first floor, lack of funds was the reason. But this construction located at the end of the lane, succeeded by a white glass fitted enormous private house, is about to be completed in two weeks and gets ready for the final finishing. The reason for this was the timely availability of funds, provided by the owner. And the construction was headed by the best contractor.

Clutching his gold color finished iPhone in hand, with one edge of phone touching the silver chained heavily weighted watch, hanging onto his wrist. And the screen of the phone was pressed against the gold materials of the rings fitted onto his fingers. In a neatly ironed shirt, well-pressed pants, and with thick strands of gold chains in his neck—Raghava, stood at the entrance of the newly constructing building.

Raghava’s strict guidance was one of the reasons behind the quick construction. Every day early in the morning, he saw that all the workers are present, he checks the progress in the work and gives a rough tone instruction to the workers, and leaves the place before it is nine O clock.

As this family is new to the lane, no one knew them. The only thing they learned was, this family is rich and runs some high profited business in the city. Raghava bought the costliest house in the lane and soon after his family is into the lane, he bought the land and started constructing a new house just beside the purchased house.

At about 8:45 he left the place and walked into his house. Soon after his breakfast he left the dining table and moved into his bedroom. Raghava pulled the drawer of the huge and subtly designed dressing table and place his I-phone into it. Later he pressed-unlocked the heavy watch and rested it beside the watch in the drawer. Closed the previous he opened a tiny drawer just beside it.

One after the other he unfitted all the rings from his fingers—counted to seven. Closed the tiny desk after placing rings in. Now, he removed his ironed shirt and let hang to the hook. Same he did with the pants too. His hands now moved into another shirt. In contrast to the previous, this shirt has wrinkles like never experienced the heat of the iron box in a lifetime. And the shirt also has voids here and there, with different colored cloth patches at some ends. The condition of the pants was worse. A bag, which appeared to be aged 100 years rested about his shoulder.

He quickly jumped out of his room and into his black car. The glasses were lifted to hide him. That car rode quickly and only halted about 500 meters from the city.

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“I had not eaten for two days,” a voice was heard to the shopkeeper at the lowest pitch, “please help me with two rupees.”

Shopkeeper stretched his hand clutching a two-rupee coin—as usual to give to the beggar. And Raghava received it with folded hands.