The Life and Adventures of Naushati Lal- 1.2 Lost and Found

Naushati Lal couldn't remember when he fell asleep but when he opened his eyes Kichlu was nowhere to be found. Confounded as he was, Naushati Lal left in search for his only friend- the piglet, which his mother bought as a birthday gift for him.

A lean clumsy figure, wearing only a long ragged shirt covering him till knees, he wandered in the village for the whole day. By the time he reached home, he had stopped crying. Face- covered with layers of dust and trails made by tears and running nose- was no better than his feet. He heard the voice of his mother scolding him for being lost the whole day, when suddenly he spotted dried blood in the corner where Kichlu often used to hide. The memories of last night flooded his mind. Next moment Naushati was on the streets again, only this time he was not crying but was red with rage and hate.

By the time Naushati reached the woods outside the village, the sun had already set. He kept running towards the thick woods on the terribly rough road. He fell three times, injuring both his knees, before reaching the woods. He cried aloud his friend's name repeatedly. He kept wandering into the woods, crying and often wiping his tears to keep his vision clear. He would run for sometime and would stop sometimes trying to hear his friend's voice or the hunter's. By the time it was dark, he could take it no longer. He stopped near a big tree, ran around it few times until he stumbled and fell. He gave a loud shriek. Naushati Lal then stood up and stared at the tree for sometime. He picked up a stone and hurled it at the tree. And as if taken by a fit of rage, he continued pelting stones at it.. He then ran towards it and started pushing it, hitting it as if trying to root it out. Failed, and overwrought, he sat down under the tree. He cried for some more time before falling asleep.

When Naushati Lal was born, he was upset. His mother lay unconscious for more than a day and there was no one to hear him cry. How Naushati survived that day was no less than a miracle. It was at a nearby clinic where his mother looked at him for the first time. They would later say, "he was no more than a skeleton, with head as big as a two kg melon, and arms so long that they were reaching his toes. No one could dare look at him." His mother looked at him, held him close to her bosom and smiled as if she was laying eyes on the most beautiful thing in her life.

The tree, that was as silent and calm today as it had always been, was equally silent and calm when the new born Naushati cried for almost a day under its thick branches before being spotted by an English lady who also happened to be a doctor.