Chapter 13: The Part-Time Workers
Keshav's days had settled into a demanding but fulfilling routine. He would wake up before dawn, head to his part-time job, then rush to attend his classes at the local community college. His evenings were spent studying, often late into the night, fueled by the hope of a better future for himself and his brother.
The job he had secured was at a small, family-run grocery store in a bustling neighborhood. It wasn't glamorous work—stocking shelves, unloading deliveries, and manning the cash register—but it was honest, and it paid just enough to keep them afloat. The store was owned by Mr. Patel, a kind but no-nonsense man in his late fifties, who treated his employees like family.
As Keshav settled into his role, he began to meet and interact with the other part-time workers at the store. Each of them had their own story, their own reasons for working long hours while trying to make a life in the city.
One of the first people Keshav befriended was Anil, a lanky young man with a perpetually cheerful disposition. Anil was originally from a small town on the outskirts of the city and had come to the city to support his family back home. He was studying mechanical engineering and, like Keshav, was balancing work and school.
"Morning, Keshav!" Anil greeted him with a wide smile as they met at the store one early morning. "How's the studying going?"
"It's tough," Keshav admitted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "But I'm managing. How about you?"
"Same here," Anil said, his grin never wavering. "But you know, it's all for a good cause, right? We'll make it through."
There was also Priya, a quiet but fiercely determined woman in her mid-twenties. She had been working at the store for nearly three years, saving up to start her own business. Priya had dreams of opening a small boutique that specialized in traditional and modern fusion wear. She often kept to herself, but when she did speak, her words were always thoughtful and measured.
"You're Keshav, right?" Priya asked one day as they were organizing the stockroom together.
"Yes, that's right," Keshav replied, surprised that she had initiated a conversation.
"I've heard Mr. Patel speak highly of you," she said, her voice soft but steady. "You're doing well for someone new to the city. Just remember to take care of yourself. It's easy to get lost in the grind."
Keshav nodded, appreciating her advice. "Thanks, Priya. I'll keep that in mind."
There was also Rajesh, an older man in his forties who worked at the store to make ends meet after his business failed. Rajesh was a wealth of knowledge, always ready with advice or a story from his past. He had seen his share of ups and downs, and he often shared his experiences with the younger workers, hoping to impart some wisdom.
"Young man," Rajesh said to Keshav one afternoon, "the city can be unforgiving, but it can also be full of opportunities if you know where to look. Don't let it harden you. Keep your head up, and always remember why you're here."
Keshav found comfort in the camaraderie he shared with his colleagues. Despite their different backgrounds and life experiences, they all understood the challenges of living and working in the city. They supported each other, whether through a shared laugh during a break or a quiet word of encouragement after a tough day.
As the weeks passed, Keshav's workload increased. Mr. Patel began to rely on him more, giving him additional responsibilities around the store. Keshav welcomed the challenge, seeing it as an opportunity to prove himself and earn a little extra money. But with the added responsibilities came more pressure, and balancing work, school, and his obligations to Sagar became increasingly difficult.
One evening, after a particularly long shift, Keshav sat down at the small table in their cramped apartment, his textbooks spread out before him. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but he forced himself to focus on his studies. He knew that falling behind in his classes wasn't an option.
I have to do this, he reminded himself. For Sagar. For our future.
But as the night wore on, he found it harder to concentrate. The words on the page began to blur, and his thoughts drifted to Sagar. He had noticed changes in his younger brother—small things at first, like Sagar coming home later than usual or seeming distracted during their conversations. Keshav had tried to push his concerns aside, attributing it to the stress of adjusting to a new environment.
He's just finding his way, Keshav told himself. I can't worry about everything.
Yet, deep down, he knew something was off. He had caught glimpses of Sagar with new friends—city kids who seemed far more experienced in the ways of the world than his brother. They dressed differently, talked differently, and carried themselves with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
One night, after finishing a late shift, Keshav was walking home when he spotted Sagar across the street, leaning against a wall with a group of boys he didn't recognize. They were laughing and talking, passing around something that Keshav couldn't quite make out in the dim light.
A knot of unease formed in Keshav's stomach. He crossed the street and approached the group, his footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
"Sagar?" Keshav called out, trying to keep his voice calm. "What are you doing out here?"
Sagar looked up, startled by his brother's sudden appearance. For a moment, their eyes met, and Keshav saw a flicker of guilt cross Sagar's face. But it was quickly replaced by a defiant smirk.
"Just hanging out, Keshav," Sagar replied nonchalantly, trying to brush off his brother's concern. "No big deal."
The boys around him exchanged amused glances, and one of them, a tall, muscular guy with a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve, stepped forward.
"Your brother?" the guy asked, his tone laced with mockery.
"Yeah," Sagar muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
Keshav ignored the boy and focused on Sagar. "It's late. You should be heading home."
"Relax, Keshav," Sagar said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself."
The tension between the brothers was palpable, and Keshav felt a pang of frustration. He wanted to pull Sagar away from this crowd, to shake some sense into him, but he knew that pushing too hard could drive them further apart.
"Just… be careful," Keshav said, his voice softening. "Okay?"
Sagar nodded, but his expression remained defiant. "Yeah, sure."
Keshav lingered for a moment, feeling the weight of his brother's choices pressing down on him. Finally, he turned and walked away, his heart heavy with worry.
Over the next few days, Keshav noticed that Sagar was spending more and more time with his new friends. The late nights, the missed classes, and the growing distance between them began to take a toll on their relationship. Keshav tried to reach out, to talk to Sagar about his concerns, but every time he broached the subject, Sagar would shut him down or brush him off.
One evening, after a particularly tense argument, Keshav sat alone in their apartment, his thoughts racing. He felt as though he was losing Sagar, and the helplessness gnawed at him.
What am I doing wrong? Keshav wondered, burying his face in his hands. I'm trying so hard, but it feels like everything's falling apart.
He couldn't shake the feeling that the city, with all its temptations and dangers, was pulling his brother away from him. The pressure of supporting them both, of keeping Sagar on the right path, was becoming overwhelming.
Keshav knew he needed to find a way to reach Sagar before it was too late. But how? The city was vast and full of distractions, and Sagar was no longer the eager, innocent boy who had left the village with dreams in his eyes.
It was during one of these difficult days that Keshav found an unexpected ally in Priya. She had noticed the strain on Keshav and approached him during a quiet moment at the store.
"Keshav, are you okay?" she asked gently, her eyes filled with concern.
Keshav hesitated, not wanting to burden her with his troubles, but the weight of his worries was too much to bear alone.
"It's my brother, Sagar," he admitted finally. "I'm worried about him. He's… changing. And I don't know how to help him."
Priya listened quietly; her expression thoughtful. When Keshav finished speaking, she offered him a small, encouraging smile.
"Sometimes, people need to make their own mistakes to learn," she said softly. "But that doesn't mean you should give up on him. Keep trying, keep being there for him. It might take time, but he'll realize how much you care."
Her words gave Keshav a small glimmer of hope. He thanked Priya, feeling a little less alone in his struggle. He resolved to keep trying, to find a way to reach Sagar, no matter how difficult it became.
As he walked home that night, Keshav couldn't help but reflect on how much had changed since they arrived in the city. The city had opened up new opportunities, but it had also brought new challenges—challenges that Keshav hadn't anticipated. But he wasn't ready to give up, not yet. For his brother's sake, he would keep fighting.
I won't lose you, Sagar, he vowed silently. No matter what, I'll find a way to bring you back.