The Worst Sin Ever [July 12 3:02 PM]

It happened when I was around 9 years old, it still haunts me.
I have confessed it a lot of times, but even today I feel gulity and sinful.

Bhattupalli - a village of less than 40 families.
My father and his two sisters are born and brought up here.
I am, too, born and brought up here till I was 10 years old.

It was a Sankranthi season.
My father invited both his sisters' families for Sankranthi festival.
Now-a-days many educated people are calling it Pongal. I hate telugu poeple uttering "Happy Pongal".

Bhattupalli had no telephone, electricity, safe drinking water, etc.
Water was a big problem. No bore-wells.
People used to fetch water from an old well dug by the British rulers.
A bucket tied to coconut-coir-rope that is pulled over a pulley used to fetch water out of well.
Four to five iterations of this tedius work could fill a container with water that is sufficient for one person to take a bath.

After filling the container, people had to walk half a kilometer to reach home.
And back to the well another 0.5km just for another container-full of water.

When relatives come home, if at all they love you, they must help you in this.
After all my mother is new to it, not my father's sisters. It's their native place.
Water level drops too deep in the well during summer making a single rope insufficient.

During festival seasons a lot of relatives used to come to our home.
All ladies and kids used to fetch water from the well. That means there was love.

I remember walking home up hill with a small container of water (on my head) spilling over my face and dropping down all through soaking me.
It was enjoyable because it is a method of beating the heat.
Mom and aunts was not much bother about water wasted by us all the way.

One hot day I was asked to stay at home after I ran for a few rounds.
Mom and my dad's mom and sisters were fetching water. Lot of effort.

"An idle brain is the devil's desktop".

I started to fill all the containers at home to their MAXIMUM capacity.
My idea was to fill them with as much water as possible, so that I can take a LAVISH bath.
In that greed, I did not realize that I am spilling a lot of water, effectively wasting one container full.
Also, playing with water in that hot day was ... cool... fun.
Fun at the expense of hardwork of the four women.

Rupa (dad's younger sister's kid), hardly 4 years old, was watching me curiously.
Suddenly Rupa's mom came inside and saw water all over the floor.
She was physically weak too, so the work was much harder for her.
She flew into rages.
Rupa was curious.
I immediately pointed my finger towards the innocent girl Rupa.

PHAATTT!!.
One slap on Rupa's cheek.
Rupa started to weep crying in the highest pitch possible.
She shouted at Rupa, "Ramu(that's me) and we are putting a lot in it, and you are spoiling!!?"

I am given the credit of fetching water, just for two rounds from the well.
And Rupa is made the culprit. because she was a small innocent kid.

The next moment, I am struck with this feeling of "Sinfully guilty".
But I was not ready to tell the truth and spoil my "Ramu is a good boy" image.

Such a brute I was at that moment.

It haunts me often, I still believe -- I am going to be punished in a big way.
I am not worried about the punishment, but the guilt presses me hard.