Bittu had been taught by his Grandfather. “Be Good.” Like a parrot, he imitated him. Till the virtue was rooted in his heart.
His grandfather, a Gandhian, always preached him “Truth is ultimate,” “Be righteous,” etc and many such principles which are oft read but seldom followed. Yet, Grandfather emulated them.

Bittu had decided to emulate his Grandfather. Bittu’s friends often laughed at him. His friends teased “You will remain a stupid boy, Bittu. Who cares? Be practical”
Bittu wouldn’t listen. His grandfather had followed the principles and so would he, he determined. Over the years, the strength and belief was questioned many times and Bittu, theoretically answered them, right.

Soon, he had to bid farewell to his alma mater. His friends advised him “Bittu, be careful. Others will eat your goodness up”
Bittu smiled “Don’t worry. Truth is with me.”

They shared their fond memories of togetherness before parting into the real world. Bittu had to push his way through to open the gates to the world. He did it patiently, hence it took longer for him to walk with his head held “just right.”
Nevertheless, he stood firm on the values taught my grandfather. Into the world, he pushed himself too. There were many pit stops, many people he met.

Some camouflaged with goodness, some were painted in greed but smiled like an innocent baby. Bittu walked along. After a while, he couldn’t differentiate. It was difficult to choose between wrong and right. How can i choose? They look same.
He was loved, hated and discouraged. He got fooled, robbed, and finally dumped by fate.

He wanted to run back and open the gates and go back to his Grandfather. But, he would not be respected. Grandfather would not say a word. But deep down, Grandfather would be upset.

Bittu did not want that to happen. He would prove his friends right if he went back too.

Upset and worried, Bittu sat on a footpath nearby. It was empty. He wondered why no one sat on it. Perhaps, they were too busy fooling and getting fooled he thought.
He looked around. He saw that the path behind. It lead to a road. A dirty road, filled with mud and gravel. It was unkempt, stinking but there was no one. Ah! Smelled of Peace.

Bittu decided to walk the road. He was overwhelmed by treachery. He wanted to be alone for a while and the stink did not reach his nose either. Bittu wondered why.
He kept walking and walking, the filthy road turned filthier. The road was filled with wastes, kitsch. He saw some people there and asked him not to go ahead. Bittu was worried. What why were they so shabby and looked at his reflection in a pool nearby.

He looked so different. His eyes were red. His hair was long and his clothes were dirty. Bittu looked at his reflection, closely. He smiled. The spark in him was amiss. Should he go back?
But, he did not want to. The path ahead would be dirty too he thought. But he did not want to give up.
He had to see what was there at the end of the road. After contemplating, he walked ahead, trying to cross the puddle but landing into bigger ones.
The dirt would kiss him anyway, Bittu thought. There was no way back, now was anyone here to cheat or judge him. So he dropped all his fears and walked fiercely.
His legs grew tired but his strong will and the immense hope in him, motivated him. Finally, he reached the end of the road. There was nothing there. Bittu looked around.

There must be something here, he thought. But it was empty. He walked the entire stretch for this barren land? He thought.

The weariness and a severe blow on his faith had shattered Bittu. He sat at a stone nearby. He cribbed and cursed himself. Were my friends always right, he wondered.
And then, he heard a voice. A beautiful voice singing in the corner of the land. He ran up to her and asked her who she was.

She was a blind girl. Her voice was soothing. Bittu asked her to sing the song again. There was some power in her voice which made him smile and brush all his thoughts away. She smiled..

And sang:
I canst see the what beneath thy feet
Neither victory nor defeat
But I for sure know that what matters is to stay right
Nothing may help me but the faith within will shine bright
There’s no harm in feeding a spoonful of joy
Better than the bitter taste of hatred, O! boy
He smiled as she sang. He learned the song
And soon…. He sang along
*Suggested by a friend to write a story with a poem*