A long wait for his mother

The other day while I was making my way to the shops, I noticed something unusual about a tall, robust young man coming from the opposite direction. He wore a nice T-shirt over white trousers and a pair of good sandals and appeared to belong to a well-to-do family.

Well-groomed hair and a clean-shaven face lent grace to his appearance. But there was something amiss about him. The man's body language showed that all was not well. He was taking quick paces - like a man in a hurry - and appeared tense.

As he came close to me, he blurted something out so violently that I felt as if I had touched a live electric wire. I was badly shaken. Whatever he had uttered was unintelligible. Seemingly unaware of his surroundings, the man kept walking at the same speed.

My shock had frozen me in my tracks. My mouth gaping, I watched him a while longer to make sure that he had not targeted me specifically and I heard him repeat the same loud outbursts at least twice. There was nobody near him. I was assured that the blow was not directed at me.

Seeing my dilemma, a roadside kiosk owner suggested that the robust young man was a schizophrenic. The stall owner told me that he frequently stalked the area, scaring many passers-by but harming none.

This minor brush with the insane man transported me in my mind's eye to the capital of a north Indian state where, years ago, a similar individual used to roam the city's markets. But that lad of about 18 was different in some important respects: he came from a poor background and wore nothing on his person.

Though the young boy's appearance was otherwise horrifying, he always wore a pleasant smile - as if it had been etched on his face.

As the boy stalked the streets with his trademark grin, he would utter only two words, "Wo ayegi" (She will come). That was his mantra and nobody had ever heard him utter anything else.

Some kind-hearted persons, in an effort to help him, tried their best to find out his name and address. But he would say only "Wo ayegi", and then turn, smiling, away.

As a result, he came to be known as the 'Wo ayegi' lad. This frail, dark-skinned boy roamed the city streets for years. He would eat whatever was given to him or he would pick up discarded bowls from nearby eateries and polish them off.

He must have gone hungry many times, but he never lost his charming smile and his chant remained a subject for animated discussion for a long time.

Some assumed that the young boy had been betrayed by his girlfriend, leaving him in a state of shock. Another hypothesis that sounded more credible was that he had been orphaned by his mother's death.

Nobody ever turned up to claim him or shed any light on his mystery. Nor was there any attempt to lodge him in some mental hospital or home for the destitute.

People became quite accustomed to the familiar Wo ayegi chant. Whenever it was heard, some kind-hearted hawker would prepare a plateful of snacks for him. The boy would collect the food and, betraying no emotions, move away.

One morning, the boy was seen lying motionless on a wooden platform outside a shop. The severe cold of the night had silenced the stark-naked lad forever. Perhaps, instead of his mother coming for him, he had gone to her.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.