The parking area on the road leading to Hauz Khas Village, New Delhi is mostly empty during the day, and if it is a public holiday, the parking lot ticket collectors are also nowhere to be seen. On one such day I met Praduman Pandey, a tea seller in that parking area.

My meeting had got delayed, and it was that time of the early afternoon, when I desperately needed a cup of hot tea, and the urge grew as I saw the tea seller. With no other soul around, I sat next to him. The tea seller asked if I would like to have a fresh cup of hot tea. With a lot of time at my disposal I said yes to it, and in the usual Delhi Explorer style, I started a conversation with him.

The tea seller was pathetically thin; I haven’t seen someone so thin in recent times. Because of his thin frame it was difficult to guess his age, but he was very old. There was a swelling in his wrist. He said, “I fell from a cycle, many years ago, and that had caused the permanent swelling.” I inquired if he has any other medical issue, due to which he is so thin. He said, “It’s a long story!”

By this time, I was very keen to hear his story, so I prodded him a little more, and he started to tell his story. He said, “Some years ago I lost my youngest son in a train accident. He was around 13-14 years-old then, after that tragedy, my wife was diagnosed with a stomach problem. After she was treated, I was diagnosed with a brain tumour. The tumour, almost left me crippled, but God was kind, it was removed after surgery at AIIMS.”

In between he kept   stirring the boiling tea. He further continued, “After I recovered from the tumour, my wife was diagnosed with cancer. Those were the most difficult days of my life. After five years of treatment I lost her.”

Till then, I hadn’t inquired his name, so realizing my mistake, I asked his name, and he spelled it in English, ‘Praduman Pandey’, and said that he is 72 years-old. Mr Pandey continued, “Toh aisa hai ki, zindagi mein har mor pe meine thokaar khayi.” I asked if he has someone left in the family, to which he replied. He has two elder sons, but they are, too, engrossed with the hardships of the social and family life. So I asked where does he live now, to which Mr Pandey replied, “I stay here, my eldest son stays nearby, I go to his house once in the day for a meal. From time to time, I also pay some money.” By this time, the tea was ready.

Because Mr Pandey had spelled out his name in English, I was intrigued to know, what he used to do and how did he end up putting this tea stall. Mr Pandey said, “In my heydays, I had a paan and tea stall at Mumbai. I had just got married then, those days were very beautiful. Since my mother was in Delhi, and she longed for us, so one day, my wife decided to spend a few months in Delhi. When I came to drop her, I fell ill and could not return for three months. After I returned, I found my space was taken by a peanut seller. He did not try to grab my space, and agreed to vacate it the next day.  Next morning when I returned, he was still there, and with teary eyes he said that he has a daughter, and he is saving up for her marriage. She is engaged and marriage is expected soon.”

Taking a pause Mr Pandey said, “I thought, I don’t have a daughter, if I had, I too, would have been worried like him. In a second, I decided to give away the space to him, and told myself that perhaps she is the daughter I never had.” The person arranged for his return ticket and Mr Pandey returned to Delhi forever.

The discussion ended with Mr Pandey saying, “May be it was my gift to that girl then that I have this tea stall today. Atleast, at this age, and with this poor health, I am still not dependent on anyone.”