Once Alagu was passing through a village, with a briefcase in hand. On his way, he saw an old man sitting on a cot spread outside a house with wobbly walls and a tiny broken door with rusted hinges. There was a small tub laid out for animals to quench their thirst.
The old man named Ahmed, placed comfortably on the cot, was taking sunlight. An antique radio stood next to him.
Alagu approached this man and started, “Salaam Chacha, a glass of water please.” Ahmed went into his ramshackle house and returned with a glass of water some snacks for his unknown visitor. Alagu gulped down the water and spoke to his host.
“Nice radio chacha.”
“Thank you”, replied Ahmed, not speaking further.
“Can I have the radio chacha?”, Alagu went on.
“No”, said Ahmed clearly.
“Chacha, I offer you 100 Rupees, please can I have the radio?”, asked Alagu.
“I would not exchange it for anything.”, replied Ahmed, showing discontent.
“Okay, please sell it for 200”, Alagu struck a bargain.
“Would not sell it for world’s treasures.”, said Ahmed, rising for his radio.
“500 please”, Alagu trying his last offer.
“No, I told you, I don’t want to sell it. Don’t you understand.”, Ahmed roared.
“I wouldn’t budge even if God Himself comes and asks for this radio. It was gifted by my great grandfather to my grandfather and then by my grandfather to my father. And was finally passed on to me. It is a my treasured possession and I wouldn’t give it to anyone.”, Ahmed said, taking his radio in his hand and embracing it.
Alagu, shrinking his face, said, “Salaam chacha”, waving a goodbye and left.
He thought on his way how he would collect these old antique pieces for his shop in Kareem Market.
While Ahmed tuned his radio just to hear noise.
In response to:
FOWC with Fandango, tub