I am about to relate a true story of a little boy.

He hailed from a middle-class family of Bengal, Kolkata. Had very loving parents, who always wanted to give their child the best that they could afford. It was a happy family.

Playful afternoons

The boy also had an elder sister, who too cared for her little brother, and being older, always kept her vigil on the naughty boy.

The boy was around six or seven years old, played all day long, after coming from school, ate those juicy jack fruits that grew in the garden of his house.

Jumped on the trees and climbed the branches to breathe in the fragrance of a white flower called ‘Gando-raj’ in Bengali which means ‘Gandho‘- smell and ‘raj’, the king; which together meant the king of fragrance.

The English name is Gardenia. Yes, indeed it had an extraordinary, delicate scent. The flower had an intoxicating effect on the boy too. Most of the late afternoon he spent on tree swinging on the branches.

Everyone loved that flower, bloomed probably during the humid summer months of April through June.

The boy used to pluck one and danced, smiling to himself and used to wrap around the big towel around himself imitating an Indian prince of ancient India.

Thanks to the history lessons his father had given him as he was posted in New Delhi where Mughal monuments in plenty stand.

Evening terror

All these fun-filled times across the day used to slowly come to an end for the boy when evening descended on the household.

Evening meant, no more play as the sun had gone down, it also meant the boy has to open the school books.  

A mother’s stern voice, rang out in Bengali ‘খে নাও’, in English, it meant, “Drink it..’ and with no please attached, a hint of anger laced mother’s voice. The boy felt as if the world had stopped.

Why did nature create this object ‘milk’, of all the things in this world? Why all the young boys have to have this white liquid? Questions tormented him and never could he get an answer.

Milk agony

This happened every day. He wanted to have a world of his own where there was no milk.

He hated milk, for its distinctive smell.

The boy, unfortunately, had his daily tryst with the single tone milk.

The boy held his nose with two fingers to block the nasal passage trying all he could to stop the milky smell of the dreaded white.

Somehow he gulped the milk down, coughed in the process, spilling it on the table.

The life moved on for the boy with these painful evenings.

Father’s love

His father stayed in Delhi and visited the family every six months. Both the children, loved him and yearned for his return.

He used to smother them with love and affection, held them close and then came the final moments for them – out came the gifts for the boy and his sister.

On one such occasion, the boy was gifted with a model of a car. All he knew in his life was ‘cars’ in all its shapes and sizes. He used to love cars. His father knew the boy’s liking and brought him a model of a 1967 silver maroon Mercedes Benz(MB) 220 S. 

The car model stretched at six inches and was made to perfection.

Minutest of the details, like the 3 pointed star emblem of a Mercedes, small tires with patterns, all existed. He loved it.

He could lose everything for this car and with utmost care kept it beside his study books, besides his pillow when he went to bed.

As days and months passed, so did the boy but a few things in life refused to change. The milk events remained as terrible as ever for the boy’s daily life.

One day, something happened…

Imaginative uncle

Mother’s elder brother, a doctor, a very good physician returned after eleven years from England after completing higher studies.

Like everyone getting acquainted with the new member of the family, the boy also was introduced.

With eyes wide open, big arched lashes falling rhythmically, he looked up to find a person with a smiling face, grey-black hair pulled backwards, two intent, friendly eyes stared down at him through thick glasses.

The boy somehow felt comfortable with this new man and then the doctor’s eyes moved a bit to catch something which the boy was holding behind him; the doctor tilted his head to catch a glimpse

“What is it?” “What are you holding behind?”

The boy sheepishly brought his right hand and showed the doctor what he was holding on the outstretched palm, the maroon Mercedes. The doctor was silent for a moment and bent down,

“Hmm.. Your Mercedes? You love it, don’t you?“

Changing moments

One day, the doctor came home late from the hospital. He was always very respectful of people and their privacy so he stood there listening at a distance to an altercation between his sister, and the little boy.

The afternoon sun had gone down, a light breeze blew in through the window and gently moved the draperies.

Through the crack, the doctor heard the dreaded ‘milk’ episode. He stood there listening to both mother and son but did not speak. Retreated after the boy finally finished the milk.

Remarkable approach

The next day, the doctor came home a little early and was sitting near the dinner table when the little boy comes running to his uncle.

The doctor remained quiet and was looking out of the window towards the patches of blue afternoon sky as if lost in thought.

The boy sat up and with twinkling eyes,

“Are you tired? What are you thinking? Did you see more patients today? What bus did you come in today? “

He rained the doctor with incessant questions.  

The doctor smiled,

“I am not able to believe what I saw today.. it was amazing, how this can happen. Unbelievable”

The boy expectantly asked what the doctor had seen.

The doctor put his hand on the boy’s head and looked at him…“You want to hear..ok, listen to this”. “I was standing in front of a petrol pump, like every day to catch a bus when I return home from the hospital. Today the bus was delaying… I stood there and waited when something caught my eye.”

He continued, “I saw across the street, the petrol pump which remains open till about midnight and fills the motor cars.

Suddenly, I see behind a Morris Oxford, or an Ambassador which was sipping gallons of petrol, three Mercedes cars standing patiently for the Ambassador to finish.”

The boy’s enthusiasm knew no bounds, as the discussion changed deeply to cars.

“Then what happened, uncle?”

Child psychology exemplified

Uncle continued, “The Mercedes waited and then moved to the far corner of the petrol pump, and parked herself beside a different looking petrol wending machine.

The driver got out and looked at the machine, and touched the hosepipe which connected the decanter.”

“For a moment, it looked like a liquid with a different color being examined by the chauffeur.

I could not keep myself waiting and walked over. Seeing me, the driver smiled and inserted the decanter into the Mercedes.”

The little boy held his breath with eyes wide open. Uncle went on …

“As soon as the pump guy pressed the button, an off-white liquid started to pour right into the Mercedes’s tank.

Goodness me! what is it, never seen such petrol in my life. The driver could feel the look of amazement on my face and said with a smile that this Mercedes runs, not on petrol ; drinks milk instead to run the engine.”

“Sheer disbelief gripped me, and there it was, about 25 liters of milk got pumped in and when the tank was full, the driver returned and the car started .

Like a soft purring cat, the engine coughed up and she drove away.”

The little boy by this time had clenched fisted, shivering all over, froze.

“The Mercedes drank milk..” “Yes, dear, I had to tell you.”

The boy jumps off his uncle’s lap, with a glazed look. He tiptoed to the dinner table and sat, holding his model car and looked intently.  

The conversation ended, his uncle walked away to change. His mother came and gave him a tin of cheese biscuits which his uncle bought for his sister and him.

The boy looked up and asked, “Ma, ma, can I have the biscuits with milk ?” 

The boy shook his head and repeated, “Ma, you know; Mercedes also drinks milk and she never cries. Why? Do you think she loves milk ?“ Mother cried with tears of joy, “Yes, my son, she loves milk.”

Far away, behind the door of the other room, his uncle stood with a smile and saw the triumphant duo.

Never again, the boy refused or was against having the milk and for very many years.

He believed that Mercedes that day did drink the milk until he was matured enough to realize his uncle’s splendid approach to make him drink milk. I truly miss my uncle.

Inference

• I present an unsung hero of many that exist in this world
• They have innate people skills, exceptional management qualities filled with empathy
• They are true “out of the box thinkers”
• For instance, in this story, the boy hated drinking milk. The boy’s mother tried hard by force. However; the uncle used creativity, solving the challenge. The uncle knew the boy loved cars and used them to make the boy like the milk
• In life too, creative approaches can solve complex challenges