Maid Of Honour

My alarm sounded at its usual time that morning. I woke up hastily, and lulled my young one into slumber, satisfied that he had done his job of waking me up by howling his heart out.

It was dawn.
An urban alarm clock was something beyond my understanding. My two year old was assigned the duty of waking me up every morning. As I walked towards the slum bore well, I felt happy that my son was already a responsible lad, even when he couldn’t speak properly. I hurriedly washed myself and made my way back to my shack. My breadwinner lay there deeply engrossed in his dreams of fairyland, as I prepared myself for the drudgery that was about to begin. I changed my sari with the only other one I had, that was hanging on the wire in my shack, from one corner to another. I quickly shook my elder daughter out of her sleep, and pushed her out of the hut, so she could freshen up. In the meanwhile, I kneaded some dough and baked some rotis for my husband, who slept in undisturbed peace. I carelessly kept some milk in a tiny glass, for my two year old when he would be awake. With that done, I rushed outside and stole a pair of slippers from my neighbor’s house, and walked away. I knew there would be a long battle of words over the same when I would come back, but I had no other way to save myself from blisters in the scorching heat. On my way, I saw my ten year old daughter chatting up with a friend of hers, and I went up to her and deposited a tight slap on her face. I chided her for wasting time when we had none, and ordered her to immediately accompany me to work. When she tried to reason, I pulled her by the arm and walked away with no further explanations. The last thing I wanted my daughter to do was spend her day gossiping her heart out.
Work was just a ten minute walk away for me, but light years away from my life. It consisted of towering buildings and mansion like houses, something that I don't even dare to dream about. As I reached my workplace and rang the doorbell, my daughter begged to be left alone. My motherly pangs of affection were just about to let her walk away from this torture, when the door opened and my employer stared at me with angry eyes. I forgot all about being a mother, and stepped in with my daughter cowering behind me. The day of drudgery had begun.
‘You have decided to come late every day, and you think I’ll tolerate this kind of behavior?’ my employer barked, as she peered at my daughter’s tiny figure hiding behind my thin frame.
I mentally wondered how I had run late when my alarm had rung correctly, and I had done every activity after that with a quick pace. I confidently told my employer that I couldn’t be late.
‘Oh, so the clock in my house is lying? Don't give me such weird excuses, and get to work right now!’
I mumbled a curse under my breath, and turned to look at my daughter who seemed frightened. I whispered something into her miniature ear, and advanced towards the kitchen to do my job. Wash the utensils.
From the corner of my eye, I saw my daughter pick up the broom and make her way to the farthest room of the big house. The delicacy of her tiny hands contrasted very well with the rashness of the broom. As I picked up the first glass and applied soap on it, my daughter was stopped by my employer and told to keep down the broom.
I rushed to her defense and held her hand in full support as the lady spoke in a surly tone, her bespectacled glare making her look like a tyrannous monster.
‘How can you make her work? NO. She’s not going to do your share of work. If you can’t do your job, then leave it. But nobody else is going to do it for you!’
I stared at her face for some time in utter disappointment, and realized it wouldn’t be of any use arguing with her. The monster probably derived pleasure out of watching me slog in her house, and couldn’t tolerate the fact that I could use some help.
I patted my burden on her back and told her to wait outside the house till I finished the work. She stared at me with innocent eyes, and walked away.
I resumed washing the utensils as I recalled the day my daughter was born. My husband couldn’t be found and so my neighbors helped me give birth to her. They had to arrange for a dai at the last minute, because my husband vanished just two days before the delivery. My in-laws had expressed sheer disappointment upon giving birth to a girl, and had left me weak and unattended because of the same. Seema was born malnourished, and weighed quite less. As she grew up, I came to realize that she was a weak child, and couldn’t lift the burden of going to school and studying. Studying, after all, is a very tough task and she wouldn’t be able to do it at all. So it was decided that Seema would help me in my work, till she turned sixteen and then she would be married off to a nice household. Till then Seema was a burden I had to bear. But what my employer did was an act of pure insanity and meanness. She probably doesn’t realize that not allowing my daughter to work meant lesser money, which means I can’t save up for my son’s education.
Rich people can never understand.
I went on to sweep the floors of the lady’s house where she lived a lavish life with her two daughters. Apparently her husband worked elsewhere. As I swept one of the daughters’ rooms, I was rebuked by the lady for not doing my work properly. I argued with her for five minutes trying to tell her that I was doing my best, but then kept quiet lest she fired me. I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
Soon I was out of one monster’s house and was walking towards another monster’s house. Unfortunately, there was a hoard of guests at their house, which meant a million utensils for me to wash. As I washed glasses and spoons and cookers and crockery, I wondered if my son would be awake by now. He was a darling, but I never had the opportunity of spending quality time with him. He was probably sipping the milk I had kept for him, now. My thoughts were broken as a glass plate fell from hands and broke into pieces. Monster Two barged into the kitchen with fuming red eyes, and blazed at me for having committed the gravest crime of all times. As I tried to apologize for my mistake, she threatened to deduct money from my salary. I whined in front of her like a baby, and she excused my mistake after showering me with choicest abuses and walked away. I sadly continued working, and left the house with dejection being the prime emotion on my face.
It was lunchtime. I walked back to my house with quick steps, as my daughter tried to keep pace with me. She kept asking me irrelevant questions about this and that, which I answered mindlessly. My heart was actually longing for my beloved son, whom I cuddled to death when I saw him trotting on the road with that tiny shirt on him.
I fed him some boiled pulses, and kissed him a million times before I left for work again.
I told Seema to look after him, and even serve my husband if he came home for lunch. That drunkard.
Work was the same old song again. Monster number three reprimanded me for trying to break the handle of her cooker, as she thought that would make her give the cooker to me, which she said was my real aim. God!
Monster number four hinted that she thought I was being paid a tad too much and she should probably pay me a little less.
I smiled to everything and made my way to the last monster. Nothing mattered to me more than finishing my work and going back home.
But monster number five was probably disapproving of my intentions, and so she created the worst ruckus she could have.
As I swept her room with undeterred honesty and sincerity, she came up to me and demanded to frisk me. I suddenly froze, and demanded to know the reason for such disrespect.
‘Disrespect? What happened to your respect when you stole my clip and took away my hairbrush home with you yesterday? You think I don't know anything? You greedy and selfish people will never learn to be honest! Stupid thieves!’

A sense of self-esteem suddenly came over me. It was as if my soul was crying its heart out at being accused of thievery. I shouted at my employer with anger in my bloodshot eyes, and told her in plain words that I hadn’t done it.
‘That’s it! I won’t take in anymore! I haven’t stolen anything from your house, and how much ever you might want to blame it on me, I will NOT admit to this! And I won’t work in a place where people think I’m a thief! I’m leaving!’
With those words of pride and self respect, I left the house turning a deaf ear to all that Monster number five said to me after that. For a nanosecond, the realization of losing a house’s work pricked me, but it was soon overpowered by my need to be respected for who I was.
My steps quickened as I began to near my house. Tears started welling up in my eyes, as I turned across a bend and entered my house. My son clung onto me immediately, and I sobbed as I hugged him. I wept at what life was doing to me.
Thievery? Was that what people thought I did?
I wept even more when Seema asked me if I was okay. I nodded to make her feel fine, but deep down I wanted to cling onto someone and cry my heart out. I wiped my tears and pasted a plastic smile on my face, so that my children would smile. They smiled, and Seema told me very casually that the neighbors had shouted at her for having stolen their slippers, and that her father hadn’t been home since afternoon.
I swallowed that bit of news and stared into the falling night. I needed him, and he wasn’t there like always.
As I put my children to bed after feeding them on leftover pulses and rotis, I sighed at my life. When they went off to sleep, I went to my neighbors’ house and left their slippers there. Then I walked to the roadside bench, with sore eyes and a sullen face.
I stared at the tiny stars in the sky, and wondered if I mattered even that much to anyone.

Was anyone bothered?
Did anyone care about what had happened today? Any day?
When there came no answer, I walked back to my shack and lay down.
I forced my eyelids into sleep.
My kids still needed to be fed, after all.
Tomorrow still had four monsters in the waiting, after all.

Unfolded

Part VIII

With a huge lump in my throat,
I turned to him and said,
‘I don’t know why I’m doing this,
But to you, my life I owe.’

‘You are the man, who marred my life,
And the one who made it too,
It’s you, who made an orphan out of me,
But who gave me a new life, too.’

‘I think enough has happened now,
And I needn’t explain any more,
You are all I have of my past.’
With this, I walked out of the door.

I felt glad when I heard his foot steps,
Finally, all questions had their answers,
He patted me on my head,
As we journeyed forth, thirty years…

Completeness came to my life,
Sometimes life carves its own way,
It’s God’s way of telling the world,
That He’s the king, they say…

After a century, I got a father,
Nostalgia was what I felt and breathed,
Each time he would pat me on my head,
Me, closer to my past, he would lead…

It’s as if I’m his penance,
And he’s nurtured me from the roots,
Maybe then, it was his hand,
That guided me through life’s pits, and wounds...

------------------**----------------------

P.S: I'm happy to announce that this series has finally come to an end. Whether you liked t or not, is not my problem :P But I am always ready for comments OR compliments (The latter, ofcourse is a better proposition :D )
Catcha later with something different... :)

Unfolded

Part VII

I scared you to your wits’ end,
I acted violent, mad, insane…
I pulled your hair and slapped you hard,
Thankfully, my sin didn't go in vain.

The next morning, when I returned,
I hoped not to see you there,
And I was the happiest when it happened,
You had gone, no matter where…

My life, now just had one purpose,
To wait for your return…
I gave up everything for just this day,
What life meant, I had to learn.

At times I felt you’d never come back,
And my sins would never be washed away,
But perhaps He has forgiven me,
As you turned up, today.

I needn’t ask for forgiveness,
As now I know, I’m forgiven,
I see a self made human in front of me…
Why should I weep and cry, then?

I shook with fear once again,
As he looked at me intensely,
My life, my existence, I owed to someone,
Someone, who’d also, marred my destiny.

I looked away, thoroughly taken aback,
The harsh truth had left me numb,
A decision, I had to make right now,
To emotional conflicts, I wouldn’t succumb.

P.S: Gosh! Just one more to go... :)

Unfolded

Part VI

It was a photograph, in black and white,
Him and my father in their best smiles,
It was one of the friendliest poses,
And completely shook my understanding of life…

‘You were perhaps too small to know,
That your father had a best friend…
A best friend who had been to jail thrice,
In the world of crime, his life he had spent.’

‘Your parents had to pay the price,
For all the sins that I had committed,
As my enemies stabbed them both that night,
The night after which they never returned.’

‘I couldn’t save them, they lay dead,
As I repented being a criminal;
I spent the two days just like you did,
Sobbing, hungry, tired and feeble…’

‘When I finally mustered up the courage,
To go and see you, and tell you the truth,
I saw you begging, and being kicked out,
And the helpless sight sealed my mouth.’

I stood in one corner and thought,
What I could do for you,
And then realized that my world of crime,
Didn’t leave space for adopting kids like you…

Moreover, you were a girl,
And my world was full of animals and beasts,
You wouldn’t be spared even for a fortnight,
My mind’s working completely ceased.

And then for the only time in my life,
I looked at the sky and said a prayer,
I begged Him to show me the way,
Your life, your future – I did care…

And then, something struck my mind,
It seemed to be the only way out…
It was also the biggest crime of my life,
But the only solution, the only way out…

P.S :To be continued...

Unfolded

Part III

A six year old, I must have been,
Unaware of what destiny meant,
How a regular market walk would turn into a disappearance,
Is something, I had never even dreamt.

I touched the broken thing with a shiver,
As I recalled that scary night…
Three days had passed; I was hungry and tired,
And I begged my neighbors for a bite…

I whined and sobbed and cried and wept,
As they drove me away one by one,
I begged from one house to another,
And tried to distract myself with my toy gun.

After long, I felt a hand on my shoulder
I rejoiced; they had come back, returned!
But then, I felt someone pull my locks,
And a huge slap, I earned.

He snatched my toy gun, and held me tight,
He dragged me through the way,
I shrieked with fear and utmost disgust,
As he got me home, and walked away.

Puzzled, I ran after him,
And held him by the hand,
He threw me to one side of my room,
I saw the toy gun, now broken, beside me land…

He latched the door, and went away,
As I sat there nursing my wounded hand,
I knew I couldn’t live here anymore,
His coming back, I couldn’t stand…

I looked around nervously,
And saw the window, open, free…
Not once thinking of what I was doing,
I made my life’s biggest leap…

P.S : To be continued...

Unfolded

Part II

As I tried to open that brown and broken door,
A whiff of smells gathered about me,
The smell of the creeper that grew there long ago,
And the smell of mother-cooked food that I relished with glee…

Cobwebs covered the hinges now,
No more did it seem welcoming enough,
Apprehensively, I pushed it apart,
My home, my house – overcoming nostalgia is tough…

I saw a tiny me over there,
Sitting on the floor and uttering gibberish,
Across me, sat she, my creator…
Listening to me – no matter however childish…

I felt like standing there forever,
But I had come with a purpose here…
I ventured into the house like a stranger,
When I knew its every nook and corner.

My father’s study table still stood there,
And there he was - his bespectacled face…
He called to me, with loving hands,
As I stood there, shocked, amazed…

I blinked my eyes rapidly,
As I reached the final room,
This was what I never wanted to do,
This room, held everything responsible for my gloom…

Bravely, I opened that last door,
Bracing myself for the ultimate breakdown…
It seemed as if I was thirty years back,
When this room was my world, my country, my town…

Everything lay as it is, no tampering whatsoever,
My Barbie doll, my car, my book,
Each thing seemed so completely mine,
Except one thing, which I saw, and shook…


P.S : To be continued...

Unfolded

Part I

A feeble step in the dingy lanes,
A scared look at the filth around me,
I was as nervous as a new born child,
That night – it was as scary as could be…

It was a search in vain – I knew,
But my last try to rebuild my past.
In these dark slums and dirty shacks,
Memories of my childhood would forever last.

The innocence of my goofy smile,
Had been lost in this hut I stood before,
The day my parents just never returned,
And the last time I saw that shapeless door.

Thirty years, and I decided to return,
Looking for a familiar face, thing, place…
The life I had lived wasn't gratifying enough,
My parents’ existence, I had to trace.

My past was better than the present
And I wanted it back at any cost,
I had to dig up lots of buried truths now,
No matter, if my identity would be lost…

It was enlightenment, salvation perhaps,
This was what life had decided for me,
My life, an unsolved mystery till today,
Would be revealed, after years – so many…


P.S: To be continued...
P.P.S : I'm sorry for my long absence from the blog world. I just got bored of life. Thankfully I'm back.

Hunger

Navratras.
It’s a moment of sheer joy for someone like me, who hasn’t the chance of eating even one meal a day. I heard one lady say something about the Durga goddess, one of those days. It’s for her, said she. I would never know any better, so I decided to flaunt this new bit of knowledge I’d gained on one of my usual trips to the temple.
I live in Dwarka. For some people to whom god is just perpetually kind, this place is heaven. I have often stood outside the gates of those high buildings, higher than I can bend my neck, and looked at them longingly. No, I don’t want to be there, but just want to actually know what these people do in big houses. But before I can even try to figure that out, I am abused by the guard sitting there, who has no work except to shoo away people like me. I am a ten year old, and I have a family – a mother who lurks around temples in hope of getting some food to fill her belly and mine too. A father who has lost all will to live, but still manages to trudge up to his work place, where he has to set up bricks. I feel proud to announce it to all my friends, that my father has built the building right opposite to where all of us live.
Little do people know about where I live. Across the temple, there is a straight line of tiny huts, that’s where my house is.
I have a bigger family than that, if I think about it. After all, all the people out there, who get together every festival near the temple, are my family. I’m one of them. And that’s exactly how I remember that day.


Ashtami. My mother told me. I nodded blankly, as I ruffled my disheveled hair early in the morning. Still partly asleep, I heard her say about how we’ll have to hurry up and reach the temple gates if we have to receive prasad from all the people who come there.
That’s why Navratras were sheer joy. All those rich people would come to the temple, with delicious offerings, which for once would fill my belly. Poori, halva, and most importantly the coins in there, hidden between this luscious food. It was sure a treat, and with that thought in mind, I hurriedly went to the temple.

Many came there, and I lankily stood with bare hands, as they filled my hand with what they thought was their way of thanking god. I didn't believe in god. I mean, had he been there, why wouldn’t he do something about me?
I saw some uncles dressed in plain white kurtas, with a tilak on their heads. All my friends rushed towards them, as we knew they would have something to give us. They did, obviously. I ate some halva, as one of my friends snatched the rest of it from me. I didn't want to fight with him for such a thing, although that meant he had stolen my food away. I had few friends.

By the time it was noon, there was a huge rush at the temple. I stared at the people walking in and out of it. Some were so gaudily dressed as if god would give them extra if they dressed like that. All of them seemed so happy going inside, and so satisfied coming outside that they surprised me. I could not understand what made them so happy. Somewhere deep down I envied them, as I wasn’t as lucky with god as they were. I shrugged and turned away from the temple.

As I walked around, I spotted two women making their way towards us. They had a huge plate in hand, which meant they would be giving us something. A smile swept across my face, as I advanced towards them. On nearing them, I tried to study them both. They were mother and daughter. The daughter was pretty, and appealed more to me, more so because she had the plate in her hand. She seemed apprehensive, maybe it was the first time she had the plate in her hand. Her mother walked in an arrogant fashion, with a maroon bag in her hand. The daughter looked so nervous, so gullible in comparison.
As I was just a metre apart from them, and the girl was about to give me something, and I had stretched my hand in response, someone gave me hard push from behind. I almost fell aside, as a clan of boys, some of which were sadly my friends, surrounded the two.
I stood aside and watched.
They seemed completely helpless. The daughter seemed as if she would just cry out loud. All these ugly creatures around her, trying to snatch off the plate from her, the sight was just so captivating that I just stood there, numb.
My friend, who had snatched my food earlier that day, made his way through the crowd of boys. He almost shouted at all of them. I was glad I hadn’t fought with him. He was helping the girl after all.
“Don’t try to snatch!” he shrieked, “Stand properly; they’ll give it to you!!”

Wow, that’s what friends are for. I couldn’t believe that he’d done such a noble act. The girl gave him a grateful smile, as she handed the plate to her mother, so she could give away the prasad. She had a beautiful smile. I noticed she wore a simple pant and shirt, yet looked so enchantingly graceful. As she began to lift one plate from the many others in the huge plate, my friend pushed her out of the way, and cornered her mother.
I couldn’t believe it. I wish I had fought with him, bastard.
She tried to find her way through the street urchins, in an attempt to reach her mother, who was trying to save the plate from the wild attack. The girl finally gave up and stood at one side. I was still standing on the pavement and staring at her, when I heard a huge bang! BANG!
They had done what I never wanted them to do. The plate had fallen off, and all these idiotic boys completely ransacked its contents. The mother stood there, defeated, and so did the girl. When the boys were completely satisfied with what they’d done, they moved away, only to see the mess they had created. Bits and pieces of the holy prasad lay on the ground, while the rest of it was still in their dirty mouths.
I just couldn’t identify with this desperation among these boys. I was hungry, but not wild and biolent.
I felt disgusted, ashamed of belonging there. I just didn't want to call these insensitive beasts as my friends, as my family.
I glanced at the girl. It was as if the sight was just too much to stand for her. She held her disappointed mother by the hand and led her away, as the mother grumbled something at us.
I sprang to action. I wouldn't say sorry, but I just wanted to talk to her. Something…anything.

“Listen…” I called to her, as she walked away.
She turned, as she gave me a stern look. I don’t think she recognized me; I was the guy she wanted to give the prasad to. But no, she was just too upset.
“I…I didn't get the prasad.” I uttered, as she stopped and her mother walked ahead.
She looked at me sternly and said, “You won't get any prasad, if you drop it all on the road.”
She added as she walked away, “Never have I seen such wild creatures!”

I stood there, angry, betrayed. I didn't even do anything! Infact, all this while I had been thinking about her…and that’s what she tells me?
I gave a mean look to the temple, hoping god was looking. And then I walked away to my house. I didn't want to eat anymore.
No more was I hungry.
That had happened for the first time in my life—I wasn’t hungry…


P.S: I hereby apologise for my inexcusable irregularity in posting. I hope you will appreciate my comeback...