Rajagopal master had just come out of the busy vegetable shop with a bag full of groceries and an empty pocket when a blood red Ford Figo came fast and braked a hairline away from him. The scene was not alien for Master who had tutored around three generations of pupils to greatness. He was used to the scenes where a luxury vehicle stops near him and an old student, now in very good position jump out to show his respect to the pious, old Master. The one incident that he still boast to his family and students was when a Supreme Court judge, a senior person then and a student of Master in his early days touched his feet to show the respect infront of the whole market.
But today Master was in for a surprise. The person who got down, a young man with a very colourful attire and a pleasant smell that precedes him in a kilometer radius, was Abu, one of Master's recent students, whom he had always considered a failure. The change was more profound because it was just a month back that Master met him at the same place. Then Abu was the owner of a week old stubble, some ill fitting clothes and the smell that comes from inside a cellar fiilled with rats. Abu had failed to find an occupation, something Master always knew. He was pretty tired of life and problems at home. That was his last day in India. One of his distant relative had agreed to take him to Gulf with him and Abu was ready to go anywhere at that point.
"Master, I got a job as an attender in a super market at Qatar. When I saw the price list there I got surprised. One kilogram onion costed only Rs 25! Overnight I switched career and now I am an onion smuggler...!" He explained sheepishly while handing over the onions that fell down from Master's grocery bag.