Ice Candy Man

He was one of the earliest memories of my life. Hazy, but very
distinct in the way he appeared to me. He would stand in one corner of
JD Road where I lived and sell his wares. And what he sold was a
delicacy for people of all ages in our locality. It was crushed ice
bathed in coloured syrup which he called ice candy. He would stand in
one corner of the lane and once in a while create an ice candy. Then he
would proceed to lick that candy himself. The second action had
profound effect on the passers-by. Not only were they attracted to the
food being sold they also felt that by licking the ice candy the vendor
was encroaching into their territory. The next bit of action-quick
purchase of ice candy. This went on. But I was not allowed to go near
the ice candy man. The food item he sold was forbidden for me. My
mother said it was bad for my health. And so I did not eat it. But the
attraction remained. Every now and then while returning from school I
would steal a glance at the ice candy man. He seemed to ignore me. In
fact he recognized none but regular patrons.
After a while I started going to high school. The restrictions were
fewer now. I had pocket money. I also had the permission to spend the
money as I pleased. I began to regularly visit the ice candy man. I was
fascinated by the immense quantities of crushed ice he possessed. He
also had sugar syrup in all kinds of colours-red, blue, green, yellow,
pink. You name the colour and he had the corresponding syrup. I bought
ice candy till both he and I were fed up of it. Regular visits also had
other results. I got to know the ice candy man better. I found out that
he used to work in an ice cream factory. He had been thrown out for
stealing ice and selling it elsewhere. He often said that he had been
framed. He would say that he loved ice cream and he could do nothing to
cheat people who created ice cream on a daily basis. In fact he had
become an ice candy vendor so that he could keep making ice cream
albeit in his own way. Friends had offered him the opportunity to
become an ice cream vendor but no, he wanted to be known as someone who
created ice cream and not one who sold them.
Days passed. I was in college. I now had a girlfriend whom I introduced
to my friend, the ice candy man. He did not seem happier for it.
Apparently all he cared for was his ice candy. He mumbled to me that he
was not keeping well. It was not possible for him to be as active as
before. His son wanted to take over but he couldn't trust him. Besides
he wanted to atone for the sins of others by making his ice candy till
he died. I thought it best to leave him to his thoughts. Maybe he had a
point after all. A few months later I found a job outside my
city.
I returned from my workplace for a short visit yesterday. The ice candy
man is no more. His son is working now. In fact he is an ice cream
vendor with a cart of his own. I spoke to him this morning. He said
that his father was work-crazy. He had lost his job in the ice cream
factory because no one could keep up with his pace and sincerity. He
had given his life to selling ice candy for a pittance because he felt
he had to make ice cream somehow. His son said they were now free to do
what they pleased now that his father was no more.