STORY-TRUCK

TRUCK

I was a truck driver. It belongs to my uncle, who used to drive it It was he who taught me driving. I liked to be a driver and so did not go to school. I used to go with him in the truck as helper, along with other  helpers and learned driving.  When I was twelve, I began driving, my uncle by my side, ready to intervene, but I gave no occasion. He was fully satisfied and gave me full charge, when he got married. I had the license with my age falsified.  I felt proud and gave my salary to mother, as my father is a drunkard. We had all India permit . I thoroughly enjoyed my work an was stout and sturdy, by the time I turned eighteen. When we stopped to rest in small hotels, my friends (helpers) slept with prostitutes; I too enjoyed sex with them . We used to carry things necessary for cooking food , so in remote places, we did not starve.

One day, a young boy approached me . He had run away from home and wanted work. He was very handsome and I felt a fancy for him. So I took him with us. Occasionally I used to enjoy him. .

Now I am twenty five. A European lady stopped my truck and asked for a lift. I could not understand English, but somehow knew what she wanted. So I told others to go in the back and allowed her to sit by my side. At our next stop in a hotel, I asked a gentleman to talk to her. The lady is a journalist and wanted to tour India, with less expenses. When she gets royalty from her publisher, she will compensate me. I agreed, as I thought she is honest. She was around forty. Now we were like a big family. I stopped going to loose women and behaved like a gentleman. She used to teach me how to talk English. Often we may leave the truck near a hotel, known to me , and visit a tourist spot or temple or church. On the whole, the association with the lady proved fruitful. Involuntarily we began to love each other.

This time when we reached home, I left the truck to the boy, who is no more a boy, and stayed with my mother. She was very happy. The lady impressed her. She went on writing and composed a book titled ‘The Impressions of Hitch Hiker’. I got it typed in English. The book is dedicated to “Konnampilly Narayana Menon”, that is myself. When she left, we both were tearful. Even the boy became sad.

“Now, that boy is managing the truck business. Why don’t  you marry and settle?” “I am ready Ma. Is there any girl in your mind?”

“You know her. My niece Subhadra. She liked the book about you and liked it. She was afraid that you loved that lady. I am sure she likes you.”

“She is educated.” “So what? Now you speak English.” So that was settled.

In due course, the Lady sent me a cheque for one lakh and promised to send more, as the book was being printed again and again. She used to write to me. My reply used to be  written by my loving wife.