The Genius Went Unnoticed

Introduction to the Author:

Nibash is a graduate in English Literature from Guahati University. He is a poet and also writes short stories. An ardent student of literature, Nibash loves reading classic as well as modern texts.

It was 7:00 am. A six-year-old boy was sharpening a big knife. That knife weighed almost three and half kgs and its length was about half a metre. Tt was touching his armpit while he sharpened it. Usually, this time for the children was meant to play with friends or going to school… but he was deprived of all these. His rub to the knife against stone made him a brutal butcher.

      Standing near the railway track, at a little height from him, I was staring at him. He had to accelerate his work because the owners of the fish shops were ready and the customers were on the way. There were a few blunt knives left to be sharpened. Nobody was bothered whether he had eaten anything or not, but they had all the time to pass rude comments on him. This scene seemed to me as an active evidence of humanity losing its stand. I was suddenly reminded of the livelihood of the Chimney Sweepers of William Blake’s “The Chimney Sweeper”.

      At around 6 o’clock in evening. I saw him again at a Milk Stall. He ordered a glass of milk and sat in front of my seat. He started to drink but after a sip he stopped as it was very hot and puffed. His act of drinking milk made me understand that he was a talented boy. Though he had never entered school, he was aware of milk being a nutritious food which normally children of his age don’t know and even if they know they don’t understand.

                                                                       A month later I saw him again. His phenomenal activity made clear to me that he was an authentic genius who was still unnoticed and this prompted me to felicitate a “tribute” to him through my writing. It was 10:30 am, Sunday. I was waiting at a meeting point for my friends. We were to go to college. A train was passing. I moved my head and saw him sitting at his tiny shop, which was made of two sacks and had no roof. And his seat was nothing special but merely a flat stone. The three divisions of flocks of lychee were left as his business products and each flock probably carried fifty lychees. There was a pot of condensed milk as his Cash Box. He was confused while counting money because of some calculation errors and he kept on trying until it matched. It suddenly dawned to me that one more flower will fade in this cruel world due to lack of observation.

      In the evening, when I was returning home from college through the same fish market, I accidentally touched his body while I happened to walk past him. He was handing over a packet of tobacco to an owner of fish shop like a fag and the touch to his body made me feel heavenly bliss.