Short Story- Bread of Cement

The Bread of Cement

At that time I was in seventh class. One day our Masterji took us outside the town. He wanted us to know something about village life. We were crossing a big bridge which might had been constructed a thousand year ago. Masterji told us that this bridge was constructed in times of Sher Shah Suri. All the bricks were intact and in spite of all the wears and tears, the bridge was having no cracks. Masterji told us that during olden days the people at work were sincere and people who had been supervising such construction works were also very faithful, honest and sincere.

Then we were passing through a small bridge constructed over a small canal. it had developed so many cracks and there was notice board where special warning was given that heavy vehicles are not allowed to cross through bridge. Masterji told us that this bridge might have been constructed two three years ago, but since the Cement had been eaten away by the contractors and the people who were supervising the construction work therefore, this new bridge could not bear the wear and tears and within the first five years of its construction heavy traffic has been banned.

We had been seeing so many other things too, but one thing remained heavy in my mind. People could eat cement. I had never eaten cement nor my parents ever provided with bread of cement. That might have been the reason that both of my parents were very weak and remained ill. On the other hand I started examining each member of the family of contractor Ujjagar Singh who was residing in our Mohalla. They were all healthy and heavy and were happy too. I was sad that my parents never knew that cement could be helpful to them and for the other members of the family for keeping and developing good health.

Within a few days I could notice that some Construction work was started in the building of our school.

Most of the work was carried out with the help of cement. One day I approached the labourers who were working there.

I demanded a small quantity of cement from them. They asked for an envelop which I brought and they gave a small quantity of cement to me. I put the envelop in my school bag and returned home. On reaching home, I said,

“Mother, I have brought some cement from my school.” I opened my bag and brought out the envelop of cement from it. I handed over that envelop to my mother and asked her that she should prepare a bread of that cement. I insisted that I shall eat cement bread to day. She was surprised, but I was still insisting upon her that she may prepare a bread of cement for me. When I did not agree, she said,

“My dear son, we are poor people. We are weak people. This cement is very difficult to digest. We would not be able to digest it. Only rich people can digest cement.”

She remained silent for some time and I took cement from her hand and placed the same on the mantle of the house so that I could show this cement to my father on his return from work. I calculated that my father shall ask my mother to prepare cement bread that night.

In the evening when my father came, he also said that cement cannot be eaten. He suggested that tomorrow shall be Sunday and he shall be applying this cement around the hand pump which was in a shaken condition. I could understand that none from out house knew that cement could be eaten. That is the reason they are not maintaining good health.

So there was no benefit of pressing for the cement bread. At midnight, I got up and went to the place where cement envelop had been placed by me. I took some cement from it and put the same in my mouth uncooked. Immediately the dry cement started action and it became very difficult for me to have air inside. I cried and my parents got up and rushed towards me. They saw that I was trying to eat dry cement. They immediately washed it out and applied oil in my mouth and also contacted some neighbour who phoned a doctor who asked for applying some medicine and assured that the boy shall be all right by tomorrow and if at all the needs further treatment, he should be brought to his clinic.

My mother was weeping and she was saying,

“I had been telling this boy that this cement cannot be digested by we poor people. This is the diet of rich people. But he did not agree nor he accepted my version.”

But I was still surprised to note that my parents were not having knowledge that this cement could be eaten. I was sorry on this ignorance.