He does not work in a pizza parlor and I am not sure whether he has a penchant for pizza. He is not poor, either. He comes from a good economic background and currently, he manages two companies. However, he would always remain a Pizza Boy to me.
I remember narrating the Pizza Boy story to the whole class back in 1998. It was a fasting month and the incident that took place in a shopping complex touched my heart – and I decided to share it with the students, he included.
We were waiting for the breaking of fast. Fasting month normally brings out the best in everybody – and sharing a table with unknown strangers could now be tolerated. There we were at one end of the table, and a family of three that comprised a father, a mother and a small boy at the other end. While waiting for Azan, suddenly there was a loud crash. Everybody turned – only to notice that small boy lying on the floor, with a plate of what used to be pizza scattered all around him.
He tried to clean up the mess. Seeing that, his father straight away went to him and dragged him back to his place. It was time to break fast. While everyone heartily tucked into their food, the young boy was left staring into his parents’ dishes. And all the while, both of his parents acted as if nothing had happened!!! They did not communicate with each other, let alone talk to the boy! My heart ( I think everyone else’s too… ) went out to the poor soul – surely there are other ways to discipline one’s kid?
Something happened. ( We were not the only witnesses to this drama. ) A staff from the Pizza shop came to our table, with a plate of freshly-baked pizza. He went to the family and offered the dish to them – to be turned down by the father as they did not order it. The staff responded, “ I know, but I saw what happened. It’s on the house. Poor kid. ” His answer not only moved us – but it caused the poor kid to finally cry! Kindness – which should come from our own family – was extended by a total stranger.
I was moved by the whole incident – but I did not expect the class of 1998 to feel the same. I was wrong. As I was preparing for the next day’s lesson, he came to me. At that time, I hardly knew him. Why? He was always absent from my class – but I admit that he stood out from the rest. He was sharp and quick Nevertheless, I made a point of tolerating no-nonsense from potential trouble makers. Therefore, his visit was unexpected.
When I asked him for the purpose of his visit, his remark took me by surprise; “ I was that Pizza boy ”.
I soon learnt that everyone had their own story to tell.
Coming from a well-to-do family could sometimes be a curse. Being the eldest, it was obvious that his presence was not really welcome by both career-minded parents. As a result, he was sent to live with his grandparents and came back as a total stranger in the family after completing his SPM. He was determined to be the good older brother that everyone would look up upon – however, his mission was not accomplished. His failure to perform in an otherwise prestigious legal college added to his misery. He set up an example indeed – don’t turn out to be like your brother! So that he would learn his lesson, his parents decided not to support his studies in the institution he currently enrolled to , or to pay for his lodging or support him in any way!!!
Kindness came from other people – strangers, fellow friends, classmates, “ You ”, he claimed. I was sure I had not done anything nor helped him in any way. “ Yes, you did. Once you asked me whether I was down with fever. Then you asked me whether I was on drugs… You paid me attention, something which I seldom heard of in my own family. ”
Have you ever been in a situation that sometimes, you feel responsible for another being but you just cannot explain why? That was exactly what I felt for him at that time. No, nothing special was going on between us, we did not fall in love or what, he was merely a Pizza Boy. He did not accept nor request for any special privilege from me either - I remember barring him from taking my paper due to his lack of attendance. He sat for his external exam, nevertheless, with a running nose and a high fever, with only his sleeve as a substitute for handkerchief! Wonder how did the invigilators feel upon such a sight!!!
Time flew. The last thing I heard was that he went abroad to further his studies. We lost touch until one day, coming back from a class – I found a note signed with The Pizza Boy lying innocently on my table. Memories flashed. He was back. We met and though both of us have moved on, the link is still there.
The Pizza Boy incident taught me that the simplest deed could sometimes mean a mountain to the recipient. I am sure the little boy that we met during that fasting month has completely forgotten all about the incident, but the other Pizza Boy clearly hasn’t. Neither have I.
So, have you done any good deed today?
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