Fragile

'Bikku' - he hated his name. He had wished his name to be a little modern, right from his childhood. But finally he had accepted it, out of day to day maturity. He is greatly inspired by the fashion trends he witnesses through the customers visiting his shop. He notices them, remembers the unique ones, only to copy it next time when he would purchase a new cloth. Bikku has never purchased clothes in bulk. He can either buy a shirt or jeans or a pair of shoe one at a time. 

He is 19. He would wonder how rich people visited the cafe where he worked, with a group of rich friends, bantering with one other or a couple taking care of each other. He has been here since a year. During the day, when there are less customers & less orders, he likes to dream - of becoming rich one day, of having a girlfriend, of having a car. He would love her and take care of her. He would take her to a dinner in a restaurant & drop her home & sing her a song. 

" Bikku" the manager would abuse. ' go and take the order. ' Bikku wouldn't mind any abuse when he was forced to disturbed in his dreams. He has been used to it. He would treat the customers with due respect pleasing them the utmost ; especially those rich girls with open hair, long boots and short dresses. 

One day he would buy a smartphone, purchase a denim jacket for himself. A boot. A hat. One day he would be rich. 

It is night now. His shift is over. He changes his clothes. The manager gives him his daily wage Rs 500. He takes the money and walks away. Bittu, his younger brother had demanded a Conical Icecream and his sister, the youngest had to be given daily cookies - chocolates, biscuits, or Samosas. But Dairy Milk Silk worth Rs 100 is her favorite. 

He buys vegetables and 5 kg rice. Tomorrow, when his father would come from the village, he would bring a bag of 100 kg rice. Next, he need to get his worn out shoe repaired by the cobbler. When he reaches home, he is left with a 100 rupee note, which is to be deposited for the room rent. 

' Bhaiya, please cook chicken this Sunday. Priya was asking for it.' says Bittu. 

' I was planning for it tomorrow only, on Friday.' he replies. 

On bed, he reaches his future dreams. One day he would own a cafe of his own & he would be rich. He would gift Bittu a Car and would get Priya married to a rich merchant. 

"Bring a small packet of cement tomorrow. The ceiling has continuously been leaking since the last few days. The rain won't stop." Amma says.