I happened to see one of these men today, and that is what inspired me to sketch this piece. Back in the years when I was in high school, playing cricket in the evenings on the streets, was of great interest for me. Once I got back from school, I would freshen up, have something to eat and then head for the street in front of our house. I was never good at cricket, but on some days, the balls that I bowled, would somehow spin and get me wickets. I would be so excited about it and my mind would get clouded with the success so much, that I would not be able to think of anything else.
Mom had left for her heavenly abode much before this period and Dad was the one who was taking care of all the cooking at home, although we had a maid to help us out. We had special knives that we had got from Kerala for cutting fish. On few days in a week, when I would approach Dad with some doubts in my subjects, he would answer me, while battling with the fish and the knife, to clean them and mince them into pieces. Sometimes, in reply to my questions, I would face real heat while he replied. I would not feel bad, as I knew Dad was going through a frustrating phase as a widower.
On working days, he would return home after sunset and that would be after the knife sharpening men, came through our street. I would be there at home by that time. On some days, he would have told me in the morning while I left for school, to look for the knife sharpening men, to get the knives sharpened. In the evening, as the sun slowly gave way to dusk and then the moon, to take over the decree, the streets would be filled with the wonderful cacophony of screaming kids, running around and playing and also with the chirps of birds and the caws of crows, returning to their nests in the trees. The knife sharpening men would slowly come into the streets while the kids would keep running all around them. With the burden of the contrivance on their back, they would call out and try and get their customers. In the bowling successes that would cloud my mind, I would often not even spot these men, leave alone hearing their call and getting the knives sharpened. Dad would be very livid with me on those evenings.
I would very diligently wait, for the next encounter with the knife sharpening men and get the knives sharpened. Many of them frequented our streets, but only one of them still remains there in my memory. And this man would tell me and all his customers once he sharpened their knives, "Don't wait for the knife to become blunt. Sharpen it often and keep it ready". At that age, his words did not carry a depth or relevance to me. But looking back today, it does.
Whether at work or in matters of our personal life, it is good to be sharp, agile, prepared and planned, so that we can cut through our tasks like knife cuts through butter.
