The Beggar: A Struggle Between Hope and Destiny

By Sten Kumar

The Beggar is a story of a child, Ronald, who finds himself trapped to his treacherous destiny. After being disowned by his family, he finds begging as his only path to survival.
In the company of other beggars, Ronald finds the elusive warmth of a family where he rekindles his dreams of succeeding.
However, he is betrayed by his friends who attempt to murder him. Ronald miraculously survives; breaking through various societal barriers, he endeavours to reunite with his mum.
However, his deceitful destiny betrays him again and he ends up as a slave on a farm. Ronald is not ready to give up yet.
In the company of other slaves, he continues to dream; of liberty and freedom; of uniting with his mum; of succeeding in life. They form a team of slaves and plan to escape.
Defying death at each step, he and his two companions set-off in their bid to gain freedom.
In this impossible escape mission his companion's parish, however, Ronald vows to achieve freedom or die trying.
Who will win in this fight between sheer hope and determination on one side, and a cruel destiny on another? Will Ronald gain his freedom? Will he reunite with his mum? Will he taste success?
The book keeps the readers guessing throughout, till the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris NZ
• Release date: Oct 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781499098112

Sten Kumar

Sten Kumar was born in Fiji and later migrated with his family to New Zealand. He self-published two earlier books: “The Legacy of Ram Prasad- Trials and Tribulations of a Girmitiya”, published in 2010, is based on real life challengers of an indentured labourer. “Smiles and Tears of the Pacific”, a collections of short-stories, was published in 2014. Sten is a creative fictional writer who brings real-life dramas and struggles, successes and failures as real-life events. Some of his writings have been highly praised and commended. A significant portion of the proceeds from this title is being channelled towards helping improve literacy in kids, through his foundation, Literacy for Kids. For More details regarding this, please visit www.Literacy4kids.org

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Copyright © 2020 by Sten Kumar.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Photography & Design: Johans Lucena

Rev. date: 01/30/2021

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CONTENTS

Author’s Note

1 The Hell Home

2 Introduction to Suffering

3 Tricks of the Trade

4 Price of Schooling

5 The Journey Beyond

6 The Grand Arrival

7 From Hope to Hopelessness

8 Planning to Die

9 Team of Slaves

10 The Grand Finale

11 Shepherd’s Miracles

Author’s Note

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any incidents or events mentioned in the book is totally coincidental. Furthermore, any characters mentioned in the book or any practices mentioned, either in Fiji or New Zealand, are not factual.

The author is aware of the struggles and sufferings of our many children, especially in the developing countries. Part of the proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated towards literacy of children in developing countries. The readers can browse the website www.thebeggar.co.nz for details of the funds raised and dedicated towards this cause through Literacy for Kids Foundation.

One

Hope is like a butterfly. You keep chasing it, and it

keeps flying away. Tired and defeated, you retreat; it

will fly in quietly and sit on your shoulders.

THE HELL HOME

Each sunrise brings with it new hopes, so they say. For me, it brought the same old fate, but with new challengers, new miseries, new sufferings.

I sat outside with Tommy, our family dog, my best companion when Mum was not around. A new day had just been born. Yet again, it would have brought new hope for many. The whole world seemed to revolve around sunrises and sunsets, around nights and days—at least for those who had nights and days in their lives! I didn’t. All I had were nightmares and, er, daymares.

I sat waiting for my fate to unfold something agonising again. My heart was pounding against my breasts, nerves panic-stricken. I wished schools were seven days and not five. Not that I loved school so much, but for me, the weekends were far more agonising than weekdays.

Suddenly, the stubborn fat old lady’s voice shot through the windows. That’s how I described my grandmother; that’s what she was.

I held on to Tommy tightly, almost strangling him. He tried to break away. But after little effort, he chose not to. He wasn’t any less fearful of the menacing voice of Grandma. He probably had also sensed a storm brewing in the house. We provided each other much-needed courage and comfort.

This was a hell home, the most agonising and dejected place on this whole planet to live. I wished I could run away.

‘Please, Mum, I can’t do this. I will go and find work and help you. I won’t be a burden on anyone. Please don’t do this to me.’ I closed my eyes and heard my mother pleading with hers. What was she pleading for? What did Grandma want my mother to do?

I was terrified, but I had become used to it. Being ill-treated by Grandma and seeing Mum being abused were now a daily routine. Mum had said that Grandma was not her real mother. I didn’t know what that meant. The old lady looked like a real lady to me—the whole 100 kilograms of her! Do you have artificial mums as well? I had no idea.

‘He will be here at seven sharp. Remember, if you are not ready to meet him, prepare for a funeral, either yours or mine!’ Grandma screamed back at Mum as she stormed out of her room.

I understood nothing. But then there never had to be a meaningful reason to understand her transgressions.

Mum got up, walked up to me, and hugged me. I tried to wipe her tears. ‘What happened, Mum?’ I asked, looking at her worried face. ‘What does Grandma want?’

She looked at me and cried, hugging and kissing me. ‘My son, I can’t live without you!’ She kept sobbing.

‘Mum, but what does Grandma want? Why is she treating you like this? Please, Mum, tell me.’ I was also sobbing now.

Just then, Grandpa came in. He took me from Mum. ‘This is all for you and Ronald. In a year’s time, you will appreciate all this. Look at Ron. Don’t you want him to get good education overseas?’ Grandpa tried to console my mum.

‘But, Dad, you know Mum doesn’t like Ron. She is always abusing him. How can I leave him here? And why haven’t you told David my full status, that apart from being a widow, I also have an 8-year-old son?’ Mum wasn’t convinced with Grandpa’s explanation. She left us and went into the house.

Grandpa looked at me and asked, ‘Now listen, Ron. Do you want to go overseas? There is lot of money there, nice expensive toys, and you can become a successful man.’ He smiled at me.

I paused for a moment. ‘But what about Mum? Will she come with me?’ I asked.

Grandpa wiped off my tears. ‘She’ll need to go before you so that she can find a house for you to live in. And she has to find a nice school and get all your school uniforms, books, everything.’ He tried to convince me.

I paused again to ponder. ‘After how long would I join her?’

‘Maybe a month or two at the most,’ he replied with a bit of hesitation. I knew he wasn’t telling me the truth.

I had never spent a night without Mum.

‘Can I go with her, please?’ I pleaded.

He put me down on the ground. ‘Now listen, you silly boy. I am not going to allow you to spoil her life. You are as useless as you father was.’

He raised his hands, threatening to strike, showing there was no room for negotiation. ‘You will have to live here with us till she sends the sponsorship papers for you.’

He left me crying and went inside the house. I sat there for a long moment. How could I live without Mum?

Most days I was frightened to be in the house when Grandma was there. Today was worse. I spent the whole day outside.

It was getting dark. Shirley, my mum’s cousin who lived next door, came over and smiled.

‘Ron, Grandma wants you to come to my home. Let’s go, and we will play snakes and ladders. You like that, don’t you?’ She took out a tissue and wiped my tears.

I shook my head. I had no intention of going anywhere. I began to walk towards our house.

‘Ron, Grandma would get annoyed if you don’t come with me. Let’s go please.’

‘I want to be with my mum. Let me go,’ I said. Pushing her away, I ran towards the house.

She followed me into the house and into Mum’s room. Mum was lying on the bed, sobbing. There was a beautiful dress beside her and some jewellery. That excited me.

‘Mum, look at this beautiful dress. Did Grandma give it to you? Please wear it, Mum. You will look pretty in this.’ Ever since Dad had died, I had never seen her wearing anything apart from plain white clothes, which were always boring.

Slowly, she sat up on the bed and looked at me.

‘Grandpa says you will go overseas to look for a house and a school for me, and then you will take me after one month. Mum, please take me with you. I don’t want you to leave—’

Before I could finish talking, she again hugged me, saying, ‘Me too, son, me too. I also can’t live without you.’ She held me tightly.

Aunt Shirley walked up to Mum and tried to console her.

All of a sudden, the bedroom door burst open, and Grandma entered. She looked at Shirley. I didn’t hear her saying anything, but I saw Shirley nodding. Shirley came to me. ‘Listen, Ron, you want to see your mum in the beautiful dress, don’t you?’ she asked.

I nodded.

‘Well, she has to get dressed. Let’s go out.’ She pulled my hand, and I obeyed. As we went into the lounge, an expensive-looking car pulled on to the lawn and stopped. A European man, dressed in a nice-looking suit, got out. He was tall, and I liked the way he was smiling.

I yelled at Grandpa that we had a visitor and ran towards the door. Grandma, who had just come out of Mum’s room, quickly grabbed me and ushered me away as Grandpa went out to welcome the visitor.

She dragged me to her room and pushed me in a corner. ‘Listen. That man in the car is here to talk to your mum so that you all can go to New Zealand. You just stay here and play with your toys. Do not come out. Do you understand?’

She came over to me, grabbed my arm, and twisted it till I could bear no more and cried out. ‘All I want is for you to shut up and just play with your toys. Don’t make any noise.’ She let go of my arm and rushed out, slamming the door behind her.

As soon as she had left, I went to the door and tried to look through the keyhole.

Grandpa sat in the lounge with the smartly dressed visitor who wore a broad smile on his face.

He introduced the visitor to Grandma, and all three of them sat down on the couch. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the young man was looking very happy, and so were my grandparents.

After a while, grandma got up and disappeared, presumably into Mum’s room. A little later, she returned with my mum.

Mum wasn’t in the beautiful dress Grandma had given her. She was still in the white sari. She sat down beside Grandma, and the young man began talking to Mum. Mum didn’t seem to be saying anything, just nodding her head occasionally.

After about half an hour, the young man stood up. Mum and my grandparents also got up. He shook hands with Grandpa, smiled, said something to Mum, and then walked out of the house. I heard the car drive away.

I had no idea of the impact of the day’s proceedings would have on me. But I could feel that whatever the events were, they would give me more suffering, perhaps suffering far greater than what I had endured till now.

I felt heaviness in my heart, as if I was suffocating. After dinner, I went straight to my bedroom and took refuge in my bed. I tried to sleep, but it appeared that my sleep had vanished with the European man. I began to dislike him.

The door opened, and Mum came in. She walked up to my bed, sat down beside me, and began to stroke my hair.

I turned around and grabbed her, holding her as tightly as I could. She tried to convince me to stay with the grandparents so that she could go to New Zealand with the young man, and she would send some papers for me so that I could join her.

The news sent shock waves through me. That was unimaginable. I had never felt so frightened. My whole world was being blown away, and I was totally helpless.

Over the next few days, Shirley and her mother tried to convince me that it would be good for me and Mum if I let Mum go; after a while, she would send my papers to join her. Then we would forever be away from Grandma.

That sounded like a reasonable proposition.

It was still a day away from the big day, or so I was told. I was excited. Mum was going to get married to the young man; his name was David Rogers. I had never been inside a church. The Christians pray there. I couldn’t sleep well in the night. I wasn’t sure whether it was due to excitement or some unknown fear that had begun to creep into me as the night passed.

I woke up in the morning and found everyone at home as busy as they were the previous night. Shirley was already up but was nowhere to be seen. I wandered into the kitchen; no one spoke to me. I went to Granny Bhag, Shirley’s mum. She was in a rush, but I grabbed her skirt. She looked at me and smiled. ‘Have you had breakfast, darling?’

‘I haven’t brushed yet,’ I replied. She told me to brush and wash my face and to ask one of the ladies to serve me breakfast. She hurried towards Grandma’s house.

I was still sitting with my breakfast when Shirley came in. I looked at her, and she immediately understood the questions on my face, just like my mum always does—I mean like my mum always did.

But Mum used to have answers for all my questions. Shirley didn’t. I was being swept away by the merciless twists of my destiny, and she had no clue where or how far I was going to be swept away. No one knew—no one, except, of course, whoever had written my tragic destiny!

Shirley sat down beside me and placed her hands around my shoulders. I grabbed her and began to sob. She held me tightly and joined me.

We finished our breakfast. I had no appetite, but she insisted that I finish the meal. We had hardly spoken. Words weren’t necessary for me to explain my misery.

The fear within me continued to gain momentum as the day passed, and all I could do was bandage my bleeding fears with false hope.

This was the longest day I had ever experienced. It was as if the sun was stationary today. Shirley kept me company, or rather, it was me keeping close to her wherever she went. I longed to see my mum but had been barred by my Grandma. I could not go home. Would I see her before she left for New Zealand?

After a long wait, the sun finally had pity on me and began to crawl towards the shoulders of the distant mountains.

I had my shower and dressed up. Shirley came, and we were ready to go to the church.

At around six in the afternoon, a car drove in, and I got in with Shirley and couple of other village ladies.

No one spoke in the car. After 15 minutes, we arrived at the church, which was an old but well-renovated building.

As we entered the door, there was a small pool of water. Cathy, my classmate, stood beside the pool with her parents. They paused to dip their hands in the water and moved on. As we arrived at the pool, I turned to dip my hands in it; however, Shirley quickly pulled me back. ‘It’s not for us,’ she whispered. ‘It’s only for Christians.’ She gently pulled me towards her. I was somewhat surprised but wasn’t in any mood to argue today.

The place was decorated. But it was all white, just like my mum’s dressing these days. It did not appeal to me. I loved colours. The more the colours, the more beautiful something looked.

I had been warned to remain with Shirley. I had been warned not to speak to anyone apart from my grandparents and Auntie Shirley.

‘Where will Mum sit?’ I asked her.

Without saying anything, she pointed in the front. There was a table there and a few chairs.

She held my hand tightly. I pulled her gently, and we walked till we were close to the front. I wanted to sit in the front row so that I could see Mum clearly and be as close to her as possible.

Shirley shook her head.

‘Those seats are reserved for your grandparents and David’s guests,’ she said. We sat in the third row from the front, next to the window. I always loved ‘window seats’.

Over the next 30 minutes, the guests started to arrive. Gradually, the place filled up. Just a few seats were now empty.

I looked around the church. The main altar was at the far end, and on either side were a presider’s chair and a lectern. There was also a tabernacle, a confessional, stations of the cross, 14 plaques around the church, a crucifix, and holy water fonts. There was a sculptured statue of Lord Jesus on the cross and a few paintings of Mother Mary and Joseph. The church had stained-glass windows.

I wondered what all these things were for, but Shirley had no idea.

I looked at the stage in the front. Mum sat beside David. Although she was dressed in white, she looked very beautiful. I suppressed my urge to run up to her and hold her as tightly as I could, to stop her from leaving me. But with the level of terror that Grandma had instilled in me, there was no room for anything else. I sat staring at her.

The holy priest walked in. He was wearing an alb, a long white garment, and over it was a larger more colourful coat.

There was total silence. A man I was seeing for the first time came forward and welcomed everyone to Mum and David’s wedding.

After a boring long speech, he sat down, and the priest came forward and began to read verses from the Holy Bible.

Finally, he asked David if he was taking my mum as his wedded wife.

David said, ‘I do.’ Then the priest turned towards Mum and asked her the same question.

Mum also whispered, ‘I do.’

The priest then turned towards the guests and asked, ‘If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be joined in matrimonial union, let him speak now or forever remain silent.’ A pin-drop silence enveloped the church.

I obviously wanted Mum and David to be joined together but had something important to say. Why had I been excluded from this union? Maybe this was my chance to stand up and say what I had been suppressing the whole day.

I stood up; however, before I could say anything, Shirley pulled me down with such a force that I fell crashing on the bench. Everyone looked at us. I saw Mum, who was startled, almost stand up from her seat, then gradually sat down.

‘Is there a problem?’ the man who had welcomed everyone whispered to Shirley.

‘No, I am sorry,’ Shirley replied. ‘The boy’s not feeling well,’ she said, getting up. ‘Let’s go out,’ she whispered to me, pulling me as she began to move out.

I kept turning back to look at Mum as we walked out of the church.

We were almost at the doorway when I heard the priest say, ‘Now the groom may kiss his bride.’ I turned back, but Shirley pulled me to the side and held me tightly. I wasn’t crying, but she was.

‘I am sorry, Ron, but Grandma would really scold you if I didn’t stop you. I am really very sorry.’

We sat outside for a long while. Finally, David walked out of the church holding Mum’s hand. Mum was crying, and behind her was a huge crowd of guests.

David and Mum got into a car; and the car, driven by David’s friend who had come from New Zealand, drove away.

I was still staring at the red tail lights of the car when Grandma came and slapped me hard. I was totally shaken and thoroughly dazed.

‘What were you trying to do there in the church?’ she screamed at me. ‘I had told you not to open your mouth in the church, didn’t I?’ She was still screaming.

Shirley tried to calm her down. Just then, our car arrived, and we jumped in and drove off.

I hadn’t seen Mum for three days now. Auntie Shirley said Mum had gone to Suva with David to get all her paperwork for her trip to New Zealand.

I had never talked to David. Was he a nice guy like my dad? Would he love me and my mum like my dad did? I had always seen him talking nicely with Mum, the grandparents, and Shirley.

Shirley said he was a nice person, but I had to meet him to find that out. I couldn’t trust anyone when my Mum’s happiness was concerned.

After a long five-day wait, Shirley told me that Mum was returning from Suva today and would come to her place this afternoon and meet us. I was thrilled. Grandpa had said that it would take Mum between two and four weeks to get her papers organised. But it had taken her only five days. Maybe mine will also take five days. I hoped and prayed for it.

Mum was wearing a coloured top and a skirt. It was more than a year since I had seen her wearing nice clothes. Mum looked beautiful even though her face was sad.

She ran towards me and hugged me, almost lifting me. She cried uncontrollably. I also cried, but I was happy to have been reunited with her. I was surprised she had not bought any chocolates for me. If she had gone to Suva, I had expected her to bring me something. But I didn’t mind. I was so happy to finally have her.

‘Listen, love, I am going to New Zealand tomorrow. You be a good boy. I will try to get you to come over as soon as I can.’ She cried as Aunt Shirley tried to comfort her.

‘Go to school and study hard. Listen to your grandparents and help them, okay?’ She forced a smile, took out some cash, and handed it to me.

‘Here, this is for you. I could not buy you any toys. Give it to Auntie Shirley when she goes to town, and she will get you whatever you want.’ She kissed me again and warmly hugged me.

‘Mum, can I sleep with you tonight? I haven’t slept with you for more than a week, and you will go away tomorrow,’ I pleaded with her.

She looked at Shirley without saying a word. Shirley came forward.

‘Ron, Mum will not get a chance to sleep tonight. She has to go and do all her packing. She has to pack all her clothes, jewelleries, and other stuff. You sleep with me. Once she has finished her packing, if there’s still time for her to catch some sleep, she will come over and sleep with you,’ she said, gently pulling me away from Mum.

I nodded. ‘Maybe I can come and help you pack so that it is completed sooner. Then you can come with me, and we can sleep together.’ I tried to find a way out.

However, Shirley reminded me of Grandma. If she got angry, she would scold not only me, but also Mum. Did I want to see Mum being scolded? Definitely not!

I was happy to stay with Shirley.

Mum came over and woke me up. She hugged me. She was leaving now. I bid her goodbye without any tears. Auntie Shirley had told me during the night that it would be less painful for Mum if I smiled when we said goodbye.

Mum and Aunt Shirley hugged each other. She looked back at me and waved, with tears rolling down both her cheeks. She then turned, cried out loudly, and ran out. I jumped out of the bed and tried to follow her. However, Aunt Shirley held me back. I cried for a long while.

In my innocence, I accepted everything that Shirley and her mum told me as holy truth.

I had no idea that the truth had been buried in fabricated stories of Shirley and my grandparents. They had no idea that it would have been much better for me to be hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie. None of us had any idea that my hopeless fate would exploit my innocence and thrive in these circumstances.

It had been seven of the longest days that I had ever experienced. Before Mum left, I had dreaded that my misery may continue once she left. I had never imagined that it would multiply, and I was thoroughly mistaken. The prophesised misery that awaited me after her departure was totally disastrous and overwhelming.

Each day, I waited patiently for my papers from New Zealand to arrive so that I could join my mum, only to be disappointed at sunset.

It was late in the evening. I went to Shirley’s house. They had been busy preparing for her wedding, which was in three weeks’ time. I went into her room. She was sitting on her bed with her mother. She got up and welcomed me.

‘Have you eaten anything?’ she asked me affectionately.

I shook my head. ‘I am not hungry,’ I said, looking at her. She knew the questions in my eyes.

‘Sometimes it takes a bit longer for the papers to come, honey,’ she said. I could see her eyes were wet.

She came up to me and sat down beside me. ‘Listen, Ron, in life, trivial things become much bigger distractions if taken too seriously. You are a boy. Soon, you will grow up to become a man. Men are supposed to be strong. Aren’t they?’ she asked me.

I nodded my yes.

‘Now do you want to grow up and be strong, or do you want to keep crying for small things?’ she again asked me.

‘I want to be strong,’ I said, unsure how I was to become one.

‘Will you be a strong boy if the papers took another week or two?’

I again nodded my yes.

‘What if it takes a few months?’ she asked, holding me tightly.

A few months! By then, even Aunt Shirley would be married and gone.

‘But who will give me strength once you are also gone? I can’t be strong without either you or Mum being here with me,’ I protested.

Granny Bhag came over to me. ‘Love, I promise you I will be with you just like your mum and your auntie have been,’ she said, trying to comfort me. She wasn’t as good as Mum or Auntie. But she wasn’t bad either.

‘Can I live with you instead of with Grandma?’ I pleaded.

‘Okay, but I will need to talk to your grandma first,’ Granny Bhag replied.

Gradually, the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months.

I had never slept alone since my dad had passed away. I had developed a phobia of darkness. Initially, it was Mum with whom I slept; and after she had left, it was Auntie Shirley. Now it was Granny Bhag.

It was the beginning of another day. Granny Bhag woke me in the morning. As I made my way home, I saw Grandpa on the farm, ploughing the land with the farm oxen.

As I entered the door, I saw Grandma having a cup of tea in the lounge. I didn’t want to face her in the morning. I never did when possible, for I would ruin her day and mine.

For some reason, even just the sight of me made Grandma lose her temper. I sneaked in from behind and made my way towards the kitchen. Somehow, in my nervousness, I tripped on a stool in the corner. A piece of chinaware fell off and broke, and with the chinaware, all hell broke loose.

Grandma turned around and, in one quick movement, grabbed me by the hair. She dragged me to her bedroom and picked up Grandpa’s belt. I cried out as the first stroke struck my back. The second landed on my shoulder, causing me to fall down on the floor. After four more strokes, I lost count.

I fell on my bed as if I was trampled by a monster, writhing in pain. It appeared as if my back and shoulders had been broken into a thousand pieces. I felt that each stroke of the belt was infused with such extreme venom that it had split my bones. Even the slightest movement triggered brutal pain. In fact, merely breathing proved agonising.

I lay thinking