I
ran to the balcony as I heard the ambassador car stopped in front of our main
gate. On the morning itself, I got the phone-call from my mother that she’d be
sending her by the driver. As I peeped through and tried to get more detail
peek, I found a short thin man getting out of the car with a torn old duffle
bag on his shoulder and a skinny girl, aged around mid teens, scaly dark-skinned
and oiled-hair that was neatly tied, wearing an unfit long frock. I indicated
the driver, to let them come inside and wait downstairs. In haste I draped my housecoat
on me and tried coming to the ground-floor in high pace.
‘’Namaste,
Madamji’’, softly said the not so impressive figure, bowing down with his
folded hands, to see me coming down and opening the living room for them.
‘’Namaste”,
I responded in reflex, and asked them to get inside the room and take their
seats. From behind, I could see the girl, with her shining widened eyes opened
wide and capturing every sneaks and peeks of my house, more precisely the
spacious hall room, in her sentient silhouette. Instantly the girl took her seat
on the carpet on the floor, as the short man pinched her and indicated her to
sit on it. He was still waiting for my order to be seated, with the duffle-bag
on his shoulder and his hands folded together at me. I felt so uncomfortable
with the man’s extra-humble attitude. Hence, I asked him to take his seat on
the couch at his left. He acted like a disciplined student of any school. I
instructed my maid to get them two glasses of sorbets. I could well imagine at
what time of the day they had left their village to reach my house and how
would have been their journey for long three hours of a crowded local train and
then another forty-five minute by car in such a scorching summer afternoon. Before
I could try offering them the drinks by me, the man almost snatched the glass
from the tray, kept on the tea-table and drank full of it in a single breath. He
seemed so thirsty and hungry too. The little girl still was kind of astonished
and turning her head around slowly and repeatedly to scan my well-decorated
living room.
I
looked at the girl and asked her, “What’s your name?”
Without
being delayed for even a second, the man replied, “Ramdas, Madam.”
I
was little confused to know her name as Ramdas as that sounded a bit unusual to
be a female name. I exclaimed to reconfirm. Ramdas blushed and laughed that he
made a mistake to understand my question and confirmed the girl’s name as
Laali. I noticed as Ramdas laughed, his semi-toothless gums adored his dark
shinning wrinkled unshaven face that complimented well with his bald head. I smiled
at him too and took my eyes away from him to look at Laali.
“Laali,
do you know to read and write?” I asked her softly who was still wandering
virtually with her eyes on the walls and roofs and corners of the hall. I found
Ramdas, confounded why I was interviewing her about her literacy. Still
managing himself, Ramdas pinched Laali and threw a red-eye at her. Laali little
scared and confused, looked at my face with her eyes requesting me to repeat my
question. I smiled and asked her the same question once again.
“I only know to write my name.” The slow but
spontaneous reply came from Laali, trying hard to hide her facial rodent-palette.
Ramdas
was getting restive to settle down the money and leave. Ramdas is her uncle,
who by profession is a bullock-cart driver in my father’s native. Though
apparently, he looks very simple and clean, but at times behaves extra-smart
and defiles situations. Laali being a parent-less child, had been brought up by
this uncle and his family, who now is trying to make money off her for whatever
he had invested during her past days. I finalized the amount as eight hundred
rupees a month, to be directly sent to him at his village through my messenger.
He handed over the bag to Laali and whispered something into her ears briskly
that almost petrified her and made her look pale. As I frowned with a clear
discontent on my face, he left with his same demurring ‘Namaste’ to me.
I
got worried when I came to know of her having lice in her hair and which needed
an immediate treatment. I just could not take chances with my two year old baby
son, still so small to bear the pain. Soon, I got a bottle of lice-treatment
medicine and informed her about the usage. I tried finding a few of my old
childhood dresses for her temporary wear that would fit her well and properly.
She
was then groomed well enough with no more lice or so much of scaly skins too. Though,
sometimes her yellowish front pair of teeth, which could never fit themselves
in the mouth and peep even through her closed lips, made her look cute, she used
to try so hard to hide them using all her facial muscles while at big laughs or
small smiles. I always felt so covetous whenever I looked at her bright shining
black-eyes, ennobling and amplifying her beauty. I found her many a time,
living in her own realms and dream world, when she restricted to answer back at
my call and continues to hum bucolic tunes. Though my mother wanted me to
appoint this rural girl for doing all domestic works, but I circumscribed her
jobs to play and spent hours with my son and sometimes may be just helping at
my hand. I had decided to invest part of my leisure hours at brushing up her
literacy, which I hesitated to disclose to my mother so soon.
Laali
being a very susceptive and responsive girl would take good care of my son,
when I used to be staying out for some works. I could stay away from the
tensions, if Jiko was with Laali. Jiko, who was then just two, could easily
make anybody go mad with his constant notorious plans and their executions. But
Laali was the one, who could easily handle him with all her imaginative stories
from the land of kings and queens. Initially, though Jiko had a major problem
with her presence all of a sudden in our house, but later on he always needed
this girl to score for his cycling or football. They both grew up like siblings
together and I found my girl-child in Laali who was aborted by the miscarriage
of my first issue. Laali had been staying up with us like an epiphyte, with her
big heart and rodent smiles all around. One would never come across a “no” from
her for anything on the earth in return. Her hums used to fill up my house like
a non-stop radio and I felt good that she had adjusted so well with my son and
others in the house. Sometimes, she tried to copycat me putting on my cosmetics
on her face and hands in my absence. Though she looked like a cute joker with
her painted face and lips, but she pretended as the queen like she used to
narrate to Jiko. I could well imagine she had started idealizing me as her
perfect idol, like any daughter would do to see her mother.
As
the seasonal sale approached the urban-summers, my aunt and mother decided to
visit the city for any budget-shopping, staying in my bungalow. That did sound
so pleasant and pleasuring for me, that I could not resist myself from cooking
variant dishes for their lunch. They would be here at any time, in the
afternoon. They also had been missing their beloved grandson since couple of
months as it had really become difficult for us to make off our schedule to
visit except on some occasions. I found Laali to be extra enthusiastic to take
care of the house and re-doing with its decor. The little girl seemed to work
hard to surprise my mother with her angelic touch.
She
ran downstairs fast to heft the luggage, making sure my mother and aunt should
not feel any discomfort and difficulty by any means for anything. We decided to
visit the sale-markets after the completion of our lunch, and would not take
Laali and Jiko, as it was hot and sultry outside. I made Laali understand about
Jiko’s food and other things to be taken care of and also told them to visit
the nearby park in the evening. Though my mother was not really so comfortable
to leave Jiko alone with Laali, I knew that was the best thing we could do to
let them avoid the scorching afternoons. So we drove the car away for the
markets and left them in the house along with darwanji and Purnima, my maid.
We
had a gala shopping time and also lavish coffee breaks in between to give us a
stupendous family-treat and entertainment. There were so many toys and clothes
for Jiko and I bought few salwars for Laali too and some utensils and cooking
ware for myself. My mother and aunt almost bought shops of so many things,
including bed-sheets, curtains, door mats and linens. The traffic was congested
enough as the busy city draped in the streetlights of dusk and the cacophony of
innumerous vehicles heading back to respective homes. And so was our car got
trapped in the immobile traffic-jam on the by-pass. The air-conditioner in the car was full on,
trying to let us relax in the sultry season, when my eyes through the
covered-window tracked few motorists with disappointed faces and wiping off the
sweat and heat. No trace of cloudy sky or rainy drizzle was cited in the
atmosphere. The weather was getting exceptionally hot, humid and swampy. The
footpaths were adorned by the ice-cream sellers and nimbu-paani trolleys. Every
now and then they were getting rushes of people quenching up their thirst and
dry throats. The gul-mohar trees here and there by the roadsides seemed to woo
the travellers and the passers-by and lured them to get mesmerized by their
beauty and lust. I was getting restless and trying to hold back the hands of my
watch, as I had been trying to call residential phone-number for over an hour
but could not get through. Every moment I was scouting the time and getting
tensions inside. I though knew Laali was enough to take care of Jiko, but I was
getting antsy for both of them. I could see the stolid queue of different
vehicles clotted altogether in a quiescent road rage that had made the city’s
busiest road stagnant and paralytic. We would take still twenty five minutes
drive to reach my bungalow. We could not understand what had happened for which
such a mess of mass was being created. Soon we got to hear some frazzled report
of an old man, crossing the road, rushed over by a speeding truck, which was
the root cause of the clogging. The instant death of the old man aroused the
mob to go against the police and the public transports. I felt so disturbed
inside with the communiqué of his death and started getting even more perturbed
to get back home.
The
twenty-five minute journey was extended to that of more than forty five minutes
finally to anchor our car to our bungalow. We were so tired and worn out enough
to plunge ourselves to the dinner-table and then bed. Suddenly I found darwanji
rushing towards us and he looked so tensed up and panic stricken. I frowned and
was waiting for him to utter words. My mother and aunt were getting the packets
of stuffs from the car. My driver was also helping them.
“Madam
Ji...Madamji...” He was almost panting in pangs of fear and pain... “Madamji,
Jikodada.... and Laali ...”
“What
happened? What has happened to Jiko?” I shouted in an anticipation of spoors of
losing something precious.
“Madamji
... Laali is hospitalised.” His last words gonged on my eardrums and I could
not believe what he said.
Immediately
we drove off to the nearby hospital, and found Laali under ventilation. She was
resting in the ICCU peacefully with innumerable cut marks and blood clots on
her face and hands that made my eyes filled with water. I felt as if somebody
holding my oesophagus so tight and firm that I would probably get choked
inside. I could see the bunny teeth coming out of her closed lips which she no
more was trying to suppress. Her condition was obviously not at all good and
she was announced to be in coma. The doctor confirmed me with her several
fractures and multi-organ malfunctions that led to my utter anxiety and
disbelief. I could not imagine still how a fourteen year old girl faced those
drunken musketeers and might have fought back to save herself till she was in a
sense.
Even
after informing Ramdas and his family so many times about such miserable
conditions of Laali, they did not turn up to visit her even for once. People
when becomes unwanted, they are classified as burdens and therefore they are
supposed to be neglected and ignored forever, even at their last breaths. I understood,
I would have to act as her both guardian and parent, as she was also an anon
boat on the vast ocean of life. It stroked me about my days when I was in the
most crisis periods of the life, and decided to sail through all alone just
with my son, as a single parent.
Darwanji
could not hold his tears to narrate the whole incident: Laali as usual took Jiko to the nearby park in
the evening. A small narrow lane has to be crossed to reach faster to the park.
And while returning back they as usual took the same lane to reach back the
home. And there three hungry drunken men took the corner under the street-lamp
to eat my little Laali. Each of them raped her several times and left her aloof
till she started bleeding profusely and finally became unconscious. Everywhere
on her body were marks of sharp claws and teeth that tried tearing her flesh
after tearing her dress. They seemed to be so unsatisfied that they possibly
even tried to engulf her lungs and kidneys too. They hurt her like three
ravenous beasts. Jiko was also hit hard on his head and he was too found lying senseless
nearby. The postman found them lying likewise on the road, and was shocked to
unearth the whole scenario. He recognised Jiko and so informed darwanji about
the whole of it. Jiko was fine with initial first aids and some hot milk but
Laali was inert. As the residential number was dead by the practise of the
service provider, and also there was not much time to waste, darwanji without
waiting for me took the strong decision to put her in the nearby hospital.
It
has been now almost more than seven months for her in the hospital. The doctor
suggested taking her back home as there is nothing more to be recovered and
improved about her. Though she does not need oxygen supply for twenty-four
hours or a food pipe to suck the food liquefied, but she stays benumbed and
still like a lifeless corpse. Two weeks have passed she had been brought back
home, and I miss her heedful scanning eyes; she does not hum those unknown
tunes anymore or try looking beautiful applying my lipsticks on her thin lips,
she only stares at the walls with her eyeballs fixed on them, that can even
penetrate the concrete built to create a pore. The reddish marks and bruises on
her body are almost faded away by now, but not the incident from the brain and
its rooms. The police say they are still working on our FIR to find out the
unctuous sinners soon, though there is nothing really to believe what they say.
The ‘Laali’ who I invented as the most beautiful human being on the earth, with
full of innocence and a non-stop slice of smile on her face, turned incurious
and secluded. The obscurity and the ambiguity of solitude crawl silently in her
veins leaving her vague and indifferent. I know I have become a good mother to
her, but again I miss to understand the untold thoughts bottled up behind those
still eyelids. I can understand the predicaments she had passed through and the
trauma of being lusted, but I am unable to let her understand the primitiveness
of those culprits, who are liable and punishable for their acts, that made her
victimised of the incident. I don’t know too how to explain her about the
uppity of the society that leaves us with an uncivilised sphere of brutes with
no evolution at the end of the day. The only thing I know now that her dull
uncanny numb stare petrifies me every moment I look at her eyes, being left and
cursed with such calamitous life ahead and that the fourteen years of her life
is being bottlenecked forever.
******
