Raju Cannot Wait

Raju was fast. Raju had always been fast. Fast feet. Fast hands. Fast everything. This was a fact about Raju and Raju liked this fact very much.

Every morning Raju fetched water from the well. The well was at the edge of the village where the path got thin and the trees got tall and the jungle started quietly without asking permission.

Raju didn't mind the jungle. The jungle minded its own business. Raju minded his. In and out. Fast as fast. Back before the tea got cold.

This morning there was an old man at the well.

The old man had: One bucket. Two slow hands. And a walking stick that seemed to be having its own separate journey.

Raju waited. One minute. The old man cranked the handle. Creeeak. One full turn.

Raju waited. Two minutes. Creeeak. Another turn.

Raju's fast feet did a small impatient dance on the path. His fast hands opened and closed.

The jungle watched. A bird made a sound that sounded exactly like wait. Raju looked at the bird. The bird looked back.

Three minutes. Creeeak.

Raju's feet couldn't stand it anymore. "I'll do it," he said. Not unkindly. Not kindly either. Just — fast.

The old man looked at Raju. He had eyes that had seen a very large number of mornings. "Can you do it slowly?" said the old man.

Raju looked at the handle. Raju looked at the old man. "Why slowly?" said Raju. "Because the rope is old," said the old man. "And the bucket is heavy. And the well is deep. And fast is how you lose the bucket."

Raju looked at the well. The well was deep. Very deep. The kind of deep that swallows buckets and doesn't apologise.

Raju put his hands on the handle. He cranked it. Slowly. Creeeak. One full turn.

It was extremely difficult to be this slow when you were Raju.

Creeeak. Another turn.

The old man stood next to him. His slow hands steadied the rope while Raju's fast hands turned the handle.

Slow hands. Fast hands. Together.

The bucket came up. Full. Heavy. Not lost.

Raju looked at the water. The old man looked at the water. The jungle said nothing. The bird had gone.

"You can be fast on the way back," said the old man.

Raju picked up his bucket. He was fast on the way back. But he held the bucket carefully. Not one drop spilled.

This was also a fact about Raju now.