"Here somewhere."
"In these clothes?"
The boy again spoke with his eyes and stood mute. The eyes seemed to say - 'What a stupid question this is!'
"Have parents?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Fifteen kos away, in the village."
"You ran away?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I have several brothers and sisters so I ran away. No work there, no food. Father used to be hungry and mother used to be hungry, used to cry, so I ran away. There was one more companion. He was from the same village, older than me. Both of us came here together. He is not here now."
"Where did he go?"
"He died."
At this young age, he had become acquainted with death - I was surprised.
I asked - "He died?"
"Yes, the sahib beat him, he died."
"Okay, come with us."
He came along with us - we returned to the lawyer friend's hotel.
"Lawyer sahib!"
The lawyer sahib came down from the hotel room. He was wrapped in a Kashmiri shawl, wearing slippers on his socked feet. There was a slight irritation in his voice, some carelessness.Oh, you again! Say."
"You needed a servant, didn't you, look this boy is here."
"Where did you bring him from? Do you know him?"
"I know him - he cannot be dishonest."
"Oh, these hill people are very mischievous. Vices are hidden in every child - you are also strange, picked him up from somewhere, here you go, take this servant."
"Believe me, this boy will turn out good."
"You too..... sir, that's enough. Take any Tom, Dick, or Harry as a servant and the next day he runs away with who knows what."
"You don't listen, what can I do."
"Listen? Nonsense. You too..... sir, you joke a lot. Okay, now, we are going to sleep."
And he, in the decorated four-rupee-a-day rental room, went to sleep on the bed with a mosquito net.
The boy stopped for a while. I was in a dilemma. Then he moved like a ghost to one side and disappeared into the fog. We also headed towards the hotel. The wind was sharp, piercing our coats like an arrow into our bodies.
Shrinking from the cold, my friend said- "Terrible cold, he has less - very little..."
"This is life, man!" I preached the philosophy of selfishness - "Come on, first warm up in bed, then worry about someone else."
Sadly, my friend said- "Selfishness! Call it what you want, helplessness, cruelty - or shamelessness."
The next day in Nainital, that son of some black slave animal's affection in heaven - that boy, did not come to our 'Hotel du Pav' at the appointed time. WeFinished their Nainital trip happily and were ready to leave. We didn't feel the need to wait hopefully for that boy.
As soon as we got into the motorcar, we received this news: the previous night, a hill boy, near the roadside under a tree, died shivering from the cold.
To die, he got that same place, that same age of ten years, and that same shirt of black rags. The world of men had left just this gift with him.
But those who told us said that a light sheet of snow had stuck to the poor boy's face, chest, fists, and feet, as if nature had arranged a white and cold shroud for the corpse to cover the world's shamelessness