Innocent questions and love

A sharp rap of something falling woke me up. I rubbed my eyes and looked around as she snuggled up into my quilt. I picked up the clock on the bedside table it showed 1:30 a.m. The reading lamp was still on and the copy of “Of Love and Other Demons” had fallen off my chest on the carpet.

“Are you awake?” She asked, her voice husky with sleep.

“Yeah, what happened sweetheart?” I asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

I pulled her up over my chest and kissed her forehead. Her head moved as my chest rose up and down as I breathed.

“What is love?” She asked.

“Umm what…?” I wasn’t prepared for such a question from her in the middle of the night.

“Do you know what love is?” She asked sitting up beside me. She rubbed her brown eyes. Her black hair tumbled down on her shoulders as I held her by her waist thinking over her question.

“Well”, I said, pushing a strand of hair away from her forehead, “Love is what’s between you and me. I love you.”

“Why do you love me?”

I looked at her amazed.

“I love you because… you are the most beautiful girl I know. And because you share your chocolates with me. I love you because you look like me when you laugh.” I said, tickling her ribs. She wiggled in my grip, laughing and laid her head on my chest.

“Does mom love me?”

A flurry of memories came back to me in an instant. The fights over petty things had begun two years after our marriage. Some days it would be just a few minutes of silence followed by a bit of making up with flowers and kisses followed by passionate love making. On other days she would lock herself up, until she cried herself hoarse.

“Yeah she does.” I replied with a sigh patting her small back.

“Do you love mom?”

I played with her hair. My thoughts still traced our common path which had come to a point where Ira decided to take a different turn. She wanted to continue with her career in advertising. I did not want my daughter growing up under the care of a hired help. She filed for divorce and a long battle for the custody of our daughter started. I won the case but the win left me emotionally exhausted and a sour taste in the mouth.

“Dad?” She raised her head and looked at me. I saw her eyes were exactly like Ira’s.

“Yeah, I was in love with her.” I replied.

“Was! You mean you are not in love with her anymore?”

I smiled wondering how her little head could analyse so much. Ira always told me her thought process was like me.

“Why doesn’t she live with us? Why does she live with someone else?”

I didn’t have the answers to her questions, only excuses. She sensed it in my eyes.

“I think love is a living being.” She said.

“Really! How?” I asked, surprised at the seriousness of her voice.

“Yeah, you see it begins, like being born and then it lives for some time and then it dies, like between you and mom.”

I looked blankly through her. The love between me and Ira was born when we were in college, but it was short lived and had died long before it could grow.

“Miss Shalini says sharing is loving. Is it true dad?”

“Yes it is, in a way.”

“You remember the donut you packed me for tiffin this morning?”

I nodded.

“Well I shared it with Aamir.”

“You mean the boy who saves a seat for you in the bus every day.”

“Yeah, and he shared a cheese sandwich with me. I think we are in love.” Her innocent voice was heavy with sleep. I smiled seeing my daughter growing up so fast.

Expectations

This post has been written by me and my friend @Monathais. Thanks a lot for writing this with  me. You can read it here too http://myworldofsmallbigthings.blogspot.in/

"Time had come for them to finally meet. And the world stood still waiting for the moment."

Adam

The alarm on his mobile went off. He hit the snooze button. He blinked and squinted at the time, it was 9:30.

“What the… I overslept again, even today, when she is coming.” In an instant he was wide awake.

“Her plane lands at 10.” He thought looking into the mirror as he brushed his teeth. “Should I shave? Or will she like my stubble? I think she said I looked better clean shaven on Skype. That will take five more minutes. How could I have overslept?” He had started applying the shaving foam even before he finished brushing his teeth.

In ten minutes he had taken a shower and was mulling about wearing sport shoes or brown leather shoes when he noticed it was already 9:50.

“Will she wait for me when she comes out? Or will she simply leave for her hotel? She will definitely message or call me once she lands. I wonder if she would let me touch her breasts. She showed them to me on Skype. Fuck this headache. I shouldn’t have drunk last night.” He weaved his car through the heavy morning traffic. He checked the clock on the dashboard, it was 10 already. He checked his phone, no messages yet.

He called her phone. The robot voice on the phone told him that it is switched off.

“I hope she messages me when she lands. Will she be wearing that red lace bra she said she had bought for me? Will I find a parking space? I hope my looks don’t disappoint her. It must be jam packed at the airport at this time. Fuck this hangover?”

Fifteen minutes later his car was in the long queue waiting to get into the parking lot. He checked his phone again. Still no message. It was 10:45.

“Has she left already? She must have waited for me and then must have left for her hotel. But why didn’t she message me? Does she really want to meet me? Or did I force her to come down all the way to meet me? But it was she who said that she would like me to pick her up at the airport. Why the fuck is that car not moving?”

He honked his horns twice. The man in the car ahead of his leaned out of the window and shouted something. He tries to call her. The phone began to ring. His heart started to beat faster. The cars in front of him started to move. He scrambled to take the steering wheel and dropped the phone under the seat. There was no way he could bend down and pick the phone up as the cars were moving now. Finally he found a place to park his car.

He put his hands under the seat and fumbled around for the phone but couldn’t find it.

“Fuck I shouldn’t have brought the car.” He decided to leave the phone and ran up the stairs towards the international arrival gate.

He reached the arrival. He checked the big digital clock on the wall over the heads it shows 11:26 in read. He scanned the area furiously for a petite girl, with black shoulder length hair, round face, small brown eyes, smiling and squinting at him. That was all he saw is a sea of unknown faces.

Eve

"How am I going to resist during this long flight? I cannot read, I cannot watch any movie, I cannot do anything. I am too nervous. My feet will hurt and they will be like thick logs, so it's good I decided to take the long pants. I will change my blouse and freshen up once we prepare to land. Should I wear gloss or lipstick. Definitely gloss. If he kisses me, I will not leave any marks on his lips. These butterflies are killing me. I know he likes me, he almost licked the screen last time we skyped and showed him the special bra I bought for him...

…But what about chemistry, intimacy? I am so bad with this, and my body needs time to get used with somebody's touch. No, it's impossible. We will connect immediately. I know that. We haven't spent our last five years in long talks just to behave like teenagers, when meeting each other. We are so in love and crazy with desire. It will be perfect. It has to be perfect. When we are at the hotel, I must keep my lucidity. It will not be spontaneous, but a shower and my special body lotion must be applied. I want him to see me sparkling. I owe him that much. But I missed him so dearly, how will I be able to refuse his embrace and his lips and his beautiful hands? I wonder if he is as restless as I am…

…He seemed so preoccupied the other day. Scared? Cold feet? Not really. My Adam is a strong man and he never lied to me. Too many feelings. Too many emotions. Maybe I should really read something...

…I cannot focus...Words are slippery. What is he doing now? Coming to the airport? Just the thought of finally being able to touch him gives me the thrills of my life. Oh my God, I will stay in his arms. This yearning…

…I hope he is as happy as I am. And I so wish he loves me even more after we meet. For me it’s clear, He is the one. And I will do anything in my power to show him this. With each breath in his presence…And this movie is not helping at all. Too slow… Perhaps if I close my eyes…

…One more hour…Breath…everything will be ok, you flew half of the world for him…He will be yours…finally. Just have a bit more patience…I should text him as the formalities seem to take too long…Message received…heart beats so fast…oh, its just the network sms…

…But I am sure he is already here, waiting for me…I need air…I need to get out…I need to see him…where is he…too many people…should I call….ahhh, no answer…damn…

Wait… oh, the shining of my soul in recognition….his smile, his concerned frown and his eyes…I missed you so much my love…ignore the tears in my eyes. I am here. Hold me tight and let’s make this moment last forever. I was right to believe you were the one. I love you…Come on, look at me...Yes…search for my smile…Just a few people to your right… ”  

To be continued...in another lifetime. Hopefully with a happy ending.

The Portrait

Inspired by a conversation on after life with Mayura (@redheartz) on Twitter.

The jeep was running at a very high speed. She was running after the jeep. The driver wasn’t aware of the woman running behind it. The jeep was now climbing a steep winding road going up a hill. On one side of the jeep was the hill and on the other side was a deep ravine. She ran her thick black hair flying behind her. The mustard yellow duppatta at one point got free from her shoulders and fell in to the valley below like a kite whose string has just been cut. Her disheveled hair, or her falling duppatta or even the asphalt road burning her tender naked heels, didn’t bother her. All she wanted to do was to run up to the jeep and stop it. 

Someone suddenly jumped out of the jeep in to the abyss below. The jeep continued to climb the hill, on course as if someone else had taken the steering wheel when the driver jumped out. The whole valley seemed to disappear in to darkness. The sun disappeared. She clearly saw the figure of the woman jumping out, wearing a salwar kameez with a mustard color duppatta just like her. The woman’s scream rang throughout the valley and echoed back from the hills. She stretched her hand as if to stop the woman from jumping and screamed, but the voice failed. With bulging eyes and still running she saw the body disappear in the dark valley below only the duppatta floated in the air for a while, glowing as if it was under a bright yellow spotlight. She felt her salwar stick to her sweaty body as she ran towards the spot where the woman had jumped. Her right foot stumbled on a stone on the roadside. She fell with her hands in front of her to protect her face….

She woke up with a jerk. Her body under her blue silk nightdress was drenched in sweat. Her shoulder length black hair stuck on her cheeks, forehead and on the nape of her neck. She was panting as if she had been running. She looked around the dark room. Her left arm found Vinod sleeping beside her. It took a few seconds for her to comprehend her surroundings. She remembered arriving the previous morning to this resort in Kerala.

She got up from the bed and went into the bathroom to wash her face. She returned and saw that the bedside lamp was on.

“What happened Nadini?” Her husband asked looking at her.

She shook her head. Nandini opened the door connecting an adjacent room and saw her daughter asleep peacefully. She returned to the bed and lied down beside Vinod. He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

“Was it the dream again?” He asked.

Nandini nodded. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest.

Nandini woke up again. She could see that the sky had brightened outside through the curtained window. The table clock showed 6:13 A.M. She got up, took out an off white gown from the closet, wore it and tied it around her waist. She opened the door to the verandah of the villa and was greeted by the fresh morning air coming from the sea. The resort was located on the sea side and led to one of the best beaches in Kerala. Nandini had randomly chosen the resort as if she knew this was the only place she had to go to.

“It would be our second honeymoon.” Vinod had whispered into her ears.

Nandini felt rejuvenated in the morning breeze coming from the sea. She had become desperate to get away from the crowd and noise of Mumbai in the last six months. As she stood on the verandah of the villa se saw the palm trees swaying in the wind. Beyond the palm trees lay the off white sand on the beach. She could see the waves lapping up the shore as she heard their soft murmur. The sun had not yet risen but the sky had brightened. A thin path led straight from the steps of the villa to the beach. The same path turned right connecting the other villas and then disappeared beyond the palm grove.

“Is there a village around here?” She had asked the manager at lunch the previous day.

“Yes ma’am, about ten minutes’ walk away from the here there is a small village of about fifty houses.” The manager had informed pointing rightwards from the resort.

She thought of the dream she had seen. She looked at the path that led to the village of fifty houses. Still thinking about the dream she started to walk involuntarily on the path as if she knew where she had to go.

It was an arranged marriage. Two years into their marriage Vinod and Nandini had started trying for a baby. Nandini suffered a miscarriage when she was pregnant for the first time. In the fourth year of her marriage she conceived again. It was then that she started having the dream. She wasn’t sure why she saw that dream. She would see different versions of the same dream. Though one thing always remained the same, she was running after a vehicle climbing a hill, sometimes it would be a car, sometimes a jeep and then a woman who looked like her and was dressed like her would either jump out of the moving vehicle or the vehicle itself would lose control and fall off the cliff.

Even though she delivered a healthy daughter, the dreams continued to haunt her. She always felt that she had to ask someone who the person was jumping out of the vehicle. She had consulted a psychiatrist but it didn’t help. As her daughter turned three years old and joined kindergarten she had taken up her old job as an HR executive. Since the last six months she had started to have the dream more frequently. She had completed one year of her job so her psychiatrist advised her to take a vacation and get away from the home-job routine.

Nandini walked on looking at the horizon where the sea met the brightening morning sky in a haze. She had left the resort behind and the path on both sides was now lined with palm trees. She could occasionally see a house made of mud with roof made of Palm leaves, but there was not a single person in sight.

The sun was now up and the rays had lit a small clearing on her left side. In the center of the clearing was a temple. Nandini stopped. She looked at the temple. She thought as if she had seen this temple before. It seemed like a dream from a very distant past. The temple looked old. The door was closed. Probably the priest hasn’t arrived yet, she thought.

She walked up the steps of the temple and touched the ebony black door. The top of the temple was in the shape of a small pyramid only the apex wasn’t pointed. She came down the steps and started to walk around the temple.

A dusty path led into the palm groves behind the temple. She followed the path for some time and came up to a small house. The roof was tiled and the walls of the house were painted half white and half maroon. The paint seemed old and had chipped off from several places. The roof slanted a bit to the front and made a small verandah supported by two pillars on either side. The door was open as if it was waiting for Nandini to enter. Nandini walked in without hesitating.

She was in a hall. The hall had a mat laid on one side under a window. There was a wicker chair in one corner and a thick wooden pillar in the center. Apart from that the hall was empty. There was a door which led to another room in front of Nandini. She noticed to her right were two more doors, both closed. Something told her that she had to go into the room. She walked in.

The first thing she noticed was a portrait hung on the wall. The portrait was of a woman. The woman wore a white silk saree with a golden border. From the corner of her black eyes she was looking at Nandini. She wore a necklace of black beads and big round gold discs for earrings. Her jet black hair was parted at the center and between her shapely eyebrows and right above her long slim nose she wore a small red bindi.

‘It’s me.’ Was the first thought that came to Nandini’s mind. She stared at the portrait mesmerized twirling her own gold chain in her fingers. With every passing second Nandini was convinced that it was her own portrait painted in the past. They were her eyes, her skin her lips. She knew the portrait was hers.

“Who are you looking for?” Nandini’s trance was broken by a feeble male voice behind her. She turned around and saw an old man looking at her with questioning brown eyes. The hair on his head was oiled and grey. His skin was dark as if it was the result of working long hours under the sun. His half sleeved white shirt lay limp on his frail body.

“Do you want something?” The old man asked again.

“Who is that in the portrait?” Nandini asked in reply.

“That’s my daughter.” The old man replied looking at the picture.

“Oh! Where is she? Can I meet her? I think I know her!”

“She is no more. She died in a road accident four years ago.” The old man replied. His voice shook a bit and it sounded much feebler this time.

“Sudha, have you returned?” Nandini’s heart skipped a beat. She heard a woman’s voice in the hall outside. It was the voice of an old woman. It sounded as if the woman was tired. She saw the woman move across the hall. She dragged her feet slowly. Nandini and the old man came out in to the hall.

“That is my wife. She has been like this ever since our daughter died. We had sold everything to send her to a medical college in the hope that she would take care of us in our old age. But…” His voice trailed off.

“Nandini, there you are we have been looking for you all over.” Before Nandini could say anything to the old man, Vinod barged in to the house.

“Mama!” Nandini’s daughter ran into her arms.

Nandini apologized to the old man for coming into the house like this. She introduced herself and her husband. She told him that they had come from Mumbai for a vacation.

“I am Ratnakar Pillai.” The old man said.

From the corner of her eyes Nandini saw the old woman go into what looked like the kitchen. She came out with a steel bowl in her hands and walked up to them. Nandini was holding her daughter in her arms. The old woman took a piece of jaggery and said something in Malyalam. Nandini looked at the old man.

“She is asking, what is your daughter’s name?”

“Sudha.” Nandini replied looking into the old woman’s eyes. They flooded instantly. The woman offered the piece of jaggery to Sudha with a smile. Tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks. Ratnakar Pillai wiped his eyes and went inside. The old woman touched Sudha’s cheeks and kissed her fingers. Sudha and Vinod looked on confusedly.

Ratnakar Pillai returned with the portrait in his hands.

“Please take this. I think this was meant for you. I don’t know how long we two oldies will live and after that no one will be there to take care of this portrait. So please take it along with you. I know you will take good care of it.” Ratnakar spoke looking into Nandini’s eyes.

Nandini hesitated for a moment and looked at Vinod. Vinod stood with his arms tied across his chest still trying to understand what was going on. Nandini handed Sudha to Vinod and took the portrait from Ratnakar Pillai. He went up to Sudha and kissed her forehead.

****

On the day when Nandini was returning to Mumbai she wrote a “Self Payable” cheque of ten thousand Rupees and gave it to the manager of the resort to hand it over to Ratnakar Pillai.

****

Nandini was in her office when she received a courier from the resort in Kerala. She found her cheque wrapped in a printed letter. The letter read:

Dear Ma’am,

I am sorry to inform you that Mr. Ratnakar Pillai and his wife died in their sleep on the evening you left Kerala. I am hereby returning the cheque that you had given for Mr. Ratnakar Pillai. Please find the same enclosed.

With Regards

Manager
Sea View Resort

Kumarakom
Kerala

Shoot to Kill

The climax in the end of the story has a music piece embeded from the movie Shaitan. The climax is best read with the music. I am sure it's equally enjoyable without the music as well. Take your pick.

The open ground in the middle of Seth Dhanji chawl in Chembur was full of people. In spite of the slight drizzle that had started half an hour ago the crowd had continued to increase. A thick nylon rope tied from one building to the other was decorated with marigold garlands and at the centre of it hung a colored earthen pot. It was decorated with garlands and mango leaves. The rope had slackened where the pot hung due to the weight. Men in t-shirt and shorts of all colors had already started forming human pyramids under the pot in order to break it. But none of the groups had succeeded yet.

Rani stood at the door of her kholi watching the proceedings from over the balcony. Her thin lips were painted red her shoulder length hair had just been washed, and stuck on the dusky skin on the back of her neck. There was a mole under her left eye which shook as she chewed a chewing gum. Her thin hands rested on her slim waist which showed between her petticoat and her blouse, as her black eyes swept across the sea of humans below the building.

“Mausi, how is everything?”

Rani heard a gruff voice at the end of the corridor. She turned around to see Pintya talking to Mausi.

“Is your team going to win this year?” Mausi asked Pintya. She was wearing her best red saaree with blue border for the occasion.

“Of course! We are kings of Dhanji-chi Gyarah Lakh-chi dahi haandi! There is no doubt about it.” Pintya said. He raised both his hands and swayed his pot belly to the tune of the loudspeaker which was belting out remixed Bollywood numbers. He wore a blue short and white t-shirt which declared Jai Jawan Krida Mandal in blue.

“If you win the haandi send all your boys here to enjoy tonight, even we need some business. The month has been tough.” Mausi said spitting a red fountain of paan on the wall of the corridor.

“Yes, why not? But do keep my share aside.” Pintya said as he moved along the corridor, poking another girl in her ribs, pinching a girl’s butt.

“Hatt melya!” Rani heard someone curse him. Even though her ears were listening to the conversation her eyes were fixed on the crowd below. She hated the site of him.

“Kya Rani? Looking great? Be prepared, you seem to be in high demand today.” Pintya grinned showing his paan stained teeth and pinching Rani’s waist. Rani slapped his hand off.

“And go and give some advice to your little sister. If she behaves today, she will get a big customer tonight. She should start earning now. For how long will we keep her locked inside and feed her?” Pintya said. Rani clenched her teeth to say something but she couldn’t. She looked away towards the clouded sky in disgust.

Pintya turned around and went towards the stairs. Rani gave him a look mixed with anger and helplessness but couldn’t say anything.

She remembered the day, when she had first met him in her village Ajara, near Kolhapur. She had just completed her 10^th exams but was unable to join a college as her father, a poor farmer, couldn’t afford to send her to one. Pintya had come with a promise to take her away from all the poverty. He convinced Rani that he would help her in finding a job in Mumbai. He had returned to Mumbai alone. During that time he had called Rani every day.

Pintya returned after a couple of months to Ajara. He told Rani’s father that he had got a job for her as a babysitter in a posh society in Mumbai and that she would earn well. Her father didn’t agree. He didn’t want her to work. No female in their family had ever worked to earn a living. Rani however was struck with the dreams of making it big in Mumbai. She fought with her parents and finally one day left the village with Pintya, leaving a note behind.

When she came to Mumbai, Pintya brought her to Dhanji chawl. Rani didn’t like the atmosphere. At first she couldn’t comprehend where she had come, or who Mausi actually was. Rani wasn’t allowed to go anywhere and most of her days were spent inside her kholi. Slowly she became aware of what this place was. One night Pintya and Mausi came into her kholi with a man.

“Be nice to him, he has paid a lot of money for you.” Mausi told Rani.

“No I don’t want to do this.” Rani shouted in protest and tried to run out of the room. Pintya, stopped her and pushed her inside the room. Two more men entered the room.

Loud drums broke Rani’s train of thoughts. She saw a new group had assembled under the haandi, people were dancing to the beat of drums as a human pyramid was slowly taking shape. It was still drizzling. Rani wiped her eyes.

“Mausi please let us go out, we will come back in some time. After all we have to work a lot tonight.” Rani heard Anita talking and giggling with Mausi. Two more girls had joined her and they were all pleading to go out to watch the Govindas break the haandi. After some arguing Mausi agreed reluctantly, but gave strict instructions to them to return in an hour and to stick together.

Rani thought of her younger sister Jyoti. Pintya had lured her and brought her to Mumbai as well. She had been locked in one of the kholis. Rani was shocked to learn about it the previous night. Mausi had asked Rani to go and speak to Jyoti as a customer had agreed to pay a fat amount for her.

Jyoti broke down and started to cry when she saw Rani.

“Pintya came to us one day, gave baba twenty thousand Rupees and told him that you had given the money and that you wanted me to join you as well as a babysitter.” Jyoti told Rani in between sobs.

She also told Rani that she had been locked up in the room for the past fifteen days and they had already tried to force a man upon her but her crying and screaming had saved her. Rani seethed in rage but couldn’t do anything. She came back crying and couldn’t sleep all night.

Upon seeing Pintya and all the celebrations of dahi haandi, she had started boiling with rage. She wanted to get her sister out of this hell, no matter what happened to her own self after that. She went into her room and closed the door. From under the bed she pulled her iron trunk out. She opened it and lifted some clothes; underneath she saw the pistol.

On the first night when she was forced to sleep with her first customer, he turned out to be the corporator of the area. He became her regular customer. He would visit her every fortnight. One night after having sex with him, Rani was lying in his arms, he had, had a couple of drinks when he pulled out the pistol from his jacket hanging on the wall and showed it to her.

“It’s a German made 9mm Mauser gun.” He told Rani. Then he showed her how to load the magazine into the gun and pull the trigger. He gave the gun to Rani for safekeeping as he was sure that this brothel would never be raided. Rani had felt a sense of power rush through her body the moment she had held the gun.

Rani closed the trunk shut with a clang and went out of the room. The girls outside were already excited about going out to see the local Jai Jawan Krida Mandal Govindas breaking the dahi handi. Rani went up to Mausi.

“Mausi, can I go too?” Rani asked.  

Mausi nodded and said, “But come back in an hour, okay?”

“Can I take Jyoti along with me? You see she has never seen Mumbai’s dahi handi. Her mood might change if she goes out and then maybe I will be able to convince her for tonight.” Rani said expectantly. She was not sure whether Mausi would agree to it but this was her only chance.

Mausi looked at Rani from head to toe and said, “Okay, take her along. But make sure she is ready for tonight. I have already accepted the advance. Tell her not to make things difficult for me.”

“I will.” Rani said and went inside her room. She changed in to a salwar suit, took the gun out and hid it in her leather handbag along with some money that she had got as tips from her clients and had hid them in her trunk. She went to Mausi, took the keys of the kholi where Jyoti had been locked, and went there. She opened the kholi. Jyoti was lying on her cot, half asleep and sobbing intermittently. Her food was lying untouched on the floor near her cot. Rani shook her to wake her up.

“Get dressed, quick!” Rani told her.

“Where are we going?” Jyoti asked getting up and wiping her face.

“We are getting out of here. Don’t waste time and get ready.” Rani said.

Within moments Jyoti changed her clothes, wiped her face and was ready to leave.

“Explain her well. It is for her good only. What is the use of getting hurt at such a tender age?” Mausi shouted as they came out of the room and passed her in the corridor.

Rani smiled and nodded. Then she tugged at Jyoti’s hands who kept her eyes on her toes. They came out of the building. The atmosphere was charged. The DJ was now playing an English song and the beats were making the walls of the buildings vibrate. The crowd was jumping up and down to the rhythm of the beats with their hands raised.

“Let’s go.” This time it was Jyoti who tugged at Rani’s hand and began to run.

“Wait, I have something to finish before we go.” Rani shouted over the noise and pulled her back. Rani began looking around frantically.

“Who are you looking for?” Jyoti shouted.

“For the man, who ruined our lives.” Rani screamed in reply.

They weaved their way through the crowd. Many of the faces knew Rani. They jeered at her. Rani ignored their catcalls. She moved quickly, continuously looking around and tugging at Jyoti’s hands. Jyoti was finding it hard to keep pace with her.

At last Rani saw him. At the end of an empty alley, away from all the crowd and noise, she saw Pintya, peeing against a wall. The drizzle had become a moderate shower now. Pintya was soaked and was looking skyward.

“Hide between that auto rickshaw and the wall and don’t come out until I come back.” Rani instructed Jyoti.

Jyoti didn’t say a word and followed her sister’s instruction. Rani looked around and moved swiftly into the alley. She could hear the music faintly in the background. The windows looking into the alley were vibrating with the music. The walls were dirty and rain soaked and the alley reeked of garbage rotting in rain.

From behind the wall around the corner Jyoti saw that Rani opened the zip of her bag and pulled out a gun. Pintya was still looking towards the cloudy sky. Rani walked towards him, holding the gun with both her hands and pointing it towards him.

“Pintya!” Rani shouted when she was within a few feet of him. Pintya turned around and gave a start upon seeing the gun in her hands.

“What are you doing with the gun Rani?” Pintya asked in a soft voice.

Before Rani could answer him, he pounced on her and tried to snatch the gun. Rani didn’t let go of the gun. The trigger pressed. Everything went silent. The DJ changed the music.

A shot broke the silence of the alley. Jyoti saw Rani’s body collapse on the ground and beside her fell the gun.

Pintya stared at the dead body in horror. He stumbled and fell on his back. He scrambled and got up on his feet and began running like a crazy man out of the alley. He kept looking back to see if Rani came back on her feet. He passed Jyoti as he ran, without noticing her. Some of Pintya’s friends met him on the street near the alley and pulled him into the crowd of dancing men.

Jyoti looked around. Pintya had disappeared into the crowd. No one had noticed her. She crawled out of her hiding place and started to walk down the stinking alley where her sister lay dead in a pool of blood mixed with rain water, garbage and mud. Jyoti looked at Rani and started to cry. She looked at the gun still in Rani’s hands. Smoke was still coming out of the barrel. She picked up the gun and hid it in her duppatta.

She came out of the alley and started to walk through the crowd in the direction in which she had seen Pintya disappear. He was dancing with a group of men. She decided to make her move and ran pushing the men aside. The music was unbearably loud. The crowd kept pushing and jostling against her. Someone grabbed her butt, she ignored. Before she could reach Pintya, the crowd began forming a human pyramid. Pintya joined the group and started climbing the shoulders of a man.

It was becoming very difficult for Jyoti to move. She crouched down on the ground and began to move between the legs of the men. The stink of sweat mixed with rain, the constant pushing and the music almost made her vomit. She somehow managed to control herself and weaved in between the legs. The pyramid was getting taller by the second.

She managed to finally reach the bottom inside the pyramid and looked up. She could see Pintya directly above her. The sight of the man reminded her of her dead sister, the stinking alley and how he had sold her own body to someone. She raised the pistol in both her hands. As if Pintya got a sign he crouched a bit under the load of another man climbing on his shoulder and looked down. He looked directly into Jyoti’s eyes. At the very moment music stopped. The silence due to the gap in the music was broken by a report of a gun fire. The music started playing again. Pintya’s lifeless body fell beside Jyoti. Someone’s feet landed directly on her stomach, and the human pyramid started to crumble. Jyoti felt a huge weight as men after men fell on her. She blacked out.

The police came with an ambulance. The bodies were recovered. The evening newspaper said, one of the bodies was of a prostitute, recovered from an alley, she was shot dead. A man shot dead, in the centre of the dahi handi celebrations and another prostitute who had died because of injuries received when men had fallen on her.

As the police stopped the dahi handi and cleared the crowd away, Mausi’s brothel didn’t do any business that night.

पहली बारिश का बॉम्बे (First Rain)

पहली बारिश का बॉम्बे

छीटें उड़ाती गाड़ियाँ

पेंच लड़ाती लाल, काली, नीली छत्रियां

प्लास्टिक में लिपटे मोबाइल पे स्टॉक मार्केट की खबरें

लोकल ट्रेन की गीली लड़ाइयाँ

ladies compartment के दरवाज़े पे चुन्नी से सर को ढंकती लड़की

गीले बालों से उलझते गोरे गाल

अशोक के पेड़ से टपकते खिडकियों पे ठंडी बूँदें

passenger से नज़रें बचाता एक rickshaw driver

पानी के छपाकों से बचते इधर उधर फांदते लोग

टपकती हुई ट्राफिक सिग्नल पे सीली हुई newspaper बेचता बूढ़ा

काले बादलों में मिलता समंदर


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