7 You Must Work Hard, Boy!

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Hint: to persist in or remain constant to a purpose, idea, or task in the face of obstacles or discouragement.

Mr. Anderson was not smiling. His face wore a blank expression, the kind that Devdutt had seen at the end of their study time, every day of the first week. "Please don't look at me that way. At least tell me what you want me to do," he had begged him like a restless little child. Mr. Anderson had closed the book he was reading, had stood up and walked over to the balcony, without uttering a word.

Allen Anderson was a free spirit as a child. His parents, John and Mary Anderson, were hard-working, humble, church-goers who didn't believe in handouts. John sold newspapers at busy street corners and Mary worked as a caretaker to a wealthy spinster. John was a talented sketch artist and would often pick up pieces of coal to capture scenes of the busy streets of London in his sketchbook. On days when fortune would smile upon him, he'd sell one of his sketches to interested onlookers for a paltry sum. On such evenings, the Anderson family would feast on some quality meat.

John Anderson was a proud man and had taught Allen to read, write and sketch like him. He had also taught him to be sincere at school and take pride in his work. "If you aren't satisfied with your work, toss it in the garbage and start over, boy!" he'd often say to Allen. "The rich man thinks he can keep you poor by taking away your dreams. Don't give him the satisfaction of winning over you. If you have a dream, then work hard and make it happen, boy!"

Allen had turned his life around on those words alone. He had worked several odd jobs to pay his own way through school and had been an academic success. His English teacher was very fond of him and had wanted him to pursue literature or art and make a career in teaching. But Allen's dream of attending college wasn't monetarily viable as his father had not long ago, succumbed to cholera and died; leaving behind nothing more than a small cottage, which was already in desperate need of repairs. His mother didn't earn enough to support his higher education, but she had been willing to talk to her employer about sponsoring his fees.

Mary's wealthy employer had better plans for Allen. She had taught him German as a child and had seen his grasp on the language and her dialect. She had steered Allen into becoming a linguist instead. She had loved him like her own child and wanted him to lead a full life - a life of passion for discovering new lands and experiencing new cultures. She had helped him join the merchant ship and had set him free like a dove carrying an olive branch. "Travel the world, my child. You will learn more than you can imagine. The world will teach you something new, every day." She had promised to take care of Mary and have her write to him as often as he pleased.

For Londoners, merchant ships leaving for far east expeditions had become common place in the late 1800s. Sea voyages were a source of great adventure in an otherwise dismal life of a working-class youth. Allen had left London in 1892 and had travelled to various ports on board different merchant ships. He spent time with the locals wherever he went and helped them load and unload cargo, clean various sections of the ship, even prepare meals for the crew at times. He had made enough money to sustain himself and was quite satisfied with his life.

Then in 1897, nearly five years since he had left home, Allen was presented with the opportunity of travelling to India, when he wasn't even looking for it. At a small pub in South Africa, where he was working part-time, he had met two British officers belonging to the East India Company. They had noticed Allen charm his way into different ethnic groups, serving them drinks and pocketing generous tips from happy customers. There were East Africans, Portuguese and even some French traders among the customers and Allen had joked and laughed with them like he was one of them.

The officers were extremely impressed with Allen and had seen great potential in his role as a linguist for their trade. They had ordered a couple of beers and had in return, offered him a job at the Company, as a translator for Indian languages. Allen had turned it down initially, but they were willing to pay him handsomely. Allen had put the beer mugs down and had announced to the room that he was leaving for India. The customers had cheered and raised their mugs in honour of their mate.

Allen was paid an advance on his first month's pay - a sum of 30 pounds to seal the deal. The officers had briefed him about his duties and the task had seemed rather simple for the kind of money they were willing to pay. He was ecstatic and had wanted to write to his mother immediately, but he had a few things to buy before boarding the ship. Allen had spent the better part of the day shopping for clothes, shoes, a hat, a brand-new suitcase and some personal stationery. He had also bought himself a sketchbook to capture the exquisiteness of Indian palaces, landscapes and markets.

He had quite a few months of perilous sea journey ahead of him till the ship landed at an Indian shore. Allen didn't know how long the sea voyage would take or where the ship would dock as his journey had already begun. He had met a few Indian jawans who were part of the ship's crew and had spent most of his days around them - engaging them in idle chatter about their work, their homeland and families. In less than two months, he had learnt to speak passable Bengali, Urdu and Hindi. His task was to immerse himself into the culture, understand their traditions and local practices and learn enough to ease trade discussions with the local merchants, land owners and rulers. Allen was doing better than the officers had anticipated.

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When Allen was asked to tutor Devdutt, he had no idea that he'd grow fond of the boy in such a short time. Devdutt was a blue blood, but his mannerisms were devoid of pomp and vanity. He was amiable and affectionate, almost like a puppy. Allen was surprised at the boy's lack of doubt and fear of a white man and wondered if he saw him more as a guardian than an adversary. This had stirred in him a strong sense of loyalty toward the boy and by extension, everything he held dear.

Devdutt had followed him out on to the balcony and was tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. Allen was gazing at the horizon, noticing the clouds turn grey and heavy. It had been a hot, dry day and now the weather was changing. He had turned towards Devdutt and had grabbed him by the shoulders. "Listen to me. You must work hard, boy!" he'd said, with a grave look on his face.