Tragedy in a Foreign Land (2)

“Honk! Honk!”
“Ouch!” Rajoo squealed as his hammer fell from his hand and hit his left foot. His working boot was old and worn-out, providing little protection from the impact of the fallen hammer. Rajoo cursed himself for falling asleep. He also cursed the truck for startling him. Packing up his tools, he followed the others out of the almost-finished house, and limped towards the truck.

Rajoo lit a cigarette as the truck pulled out onto the road. He could feel the wind against his face, as he sat cramped at the back of the truck with the other workers.
“Hey! Spare me a cigarette!” Siva nudged him.
“Get your own!”
“Spare me a puff!” Siva pleaded.
“No!” Rajoo refused.
Siva’s face fell. Rajoo felt a little sorry for him. He decided to show Siva a little charity. When he exhaled the next time, he made sure to blow the smoke at Siva’s face. Siva closed his eyes, inhaling the smoke Rajoo had exhaled hungrily.

Pathetic! Rajoo thought. His friend was a fool. He would not spend a cent of what he earned. The fool sent his whole paycheck back to Bangladesh – to his wife and ten kids. Not Rajoo! He spent a large part of his pay on cigarettes and drinks. He felt pretty sacrificial for sending anything back at all to his wife and kids in Bangladesh. Anyway, his wife had a job and unlike Siva, he was not such a fool as to have ten kids. He had only five.

The truck finally reached the apartments where the workers lodged. Rajoo shared a two-bedroom apartment with five other guys, including Siva.
“Mail for you, Rajoo!”
Siva passed him a letter from Bangladesh. Rajoo’s wife was a good correspondent. She wrote regularly, updating him about all that was happening in Bangladesh. In almost every letter, she asked him to come home. Rajoo wrote whenever he felt he had not written in a long time. Whenever he did, he assured his wife he would come home once he had made his fortune. He chucked the letter, unopened onto his mattress. He wanted to get into the shower before the other guys.

Rajoo got out of the shower, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. With the smell of soap clinging to his freshly washed body, he felt stifled by the smell of sweat in the room. Siva was sitting on his mattress. When he saw Rajoo, he quickly hid something under his mattress, as if afraid Rajoo would see it. Pathetic fool! Rajoo thought as he sat down on his mattress, which was next to Siva’s. The workers slept on thin, old mattresses, which probably had been used by numerous “pioneers” before them. Brown stains covered all the mattresses. Rajoo unlocked his suitcase which he kept at the head of his mattress, and took out a bottle of beer. This was his favorite part of the day. He took a sip of the beer. Heavenly! A well deserved luxury after a hard day’s work. Slowly, he opened the letter from his wife.