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In the dark exhaust of the
bus, she stood there alone with her child, fanning the air with her sari. Her
uncertain eyes glanced around as the bus moved ahead. When the whirring of the
bus faded away, the whole locality turned into a gloomy graveyard. A strange
feeling of helplessness overwhelmed her, and she began to bite her sari-end
faster than she ever did.
Kavita stood motionless. The unwanted memories of yester months invaded
her mind. She contemplated the scraggy face of her child and grabbed it to her
bosom tightly, as if to compensate for her distress. She quickened her weary
steps along the interior path, between secluded, posh bungalows, until she
found herself at a huge, iron gate. By the light of the nearest lamp post, Kavita could barely read the board that was
nailed to the right gate pillar, “No.111, Mr. Ka-r-thi-k,
s-o-n of MP, Mr. Sh-e-k-ar.”
As she read the first name on
the board, Kavita became thoughtful, and fragments of
the unwanted memory drifted through her mind again. Troubled and excited, she leaned on to the gate pillar
and rang the bell twice.
A buxom maid with a chequered
apron rushed to the gate. “ She must be the new servant after me”, reflected Kavita. Her tousled hair added a new weariness
to her old age. The maid flashed her curious eyes at the woman behind the gate
at that unusual time, with a child in her arms. As she unlocked the gate, she
had ample opportunity to glimpse at the face of the innocent and exhausted Kavita, though she stood
against the light. Feeling pity for the child, the maid took Kavita in immediately, and let her wait
for the owner.
The servant woman’s sympathy
awakened in Kavita a painful thought. “Is she of my clan?
Is she a Dalit?” she
wondered.
Kavita walked up to the parlour carefully, as if she had stepped into an
unknown place. She sat down on the lowest step at its entrance, as a fatigued
cow lies on the ground. As the darkness thickened, the cry of the crickets
intensified and the gloom enveloped her again. The moths around the ceiling
light, kept company with Kavita,
as if they had understood her plight.
Kavita desperately searched for a familiar sight. But there was none.
Everything had changed. Except one - the picture of a wild wolf devouring an
innocent lamb. That was still on the wall. When Kavita saw it, she was startled and strove
hard to control the anger that surged in her. But, the instant cry of the child
brought her back to the present.
It was half past eight. Kavita heard the traumatizing stroke of
the parlour clock in the distance. A strange horror overcame her, as she saw a
vehicle, its lights glaring. Breaking the sombreness of the night, a jeep
speeded up to her and came to a grinding halt. Her heart raced. Trembling with
fear, she got to her feet unawares. She saw the person with glittering shoes
getting down from the driving seat. It was Mr. Karthik, son of an MP. A young
woman in a short skirt with painted lips got down from the other side. She
darted across the parlour. Her high heels clicked and the ornaments jingled as
she swung her hips. Even though she took no notice of Kavita, the latter knew that the woman was not
the wife of Mr. Karthik.
No sooner did the gentleman
in white kurta see Kavita,
than he burst out with his usual vocabulary, “Wild bitch, why have you come
here?” Kavita’s whole body stiffened. She pressed
the infant against her dried breast firmly, as if to prevent it from listening
to those invectives.
Even though she was innocent,
she had no courage to face that fiendish nature. Ten months ago, Kavita had hardened her heart to save a life
from abortion. Today, she was sentenced to utter helplessness. Her feeble voice
began to tremble. “Sir, I came to get your
signature on this child’s
birth certificate,” she cried.
The defence tactics worked very well in the political ring. But, that
was a strange and weighty one for him to tackle at that hour. He became
restless and furious. “Signature? Get it from him who slept with you. There are
no fathers here for harlot’s children. Get out of my sight, you dirty………”
Kavita was dumb-founded at those irresponsible words. She opened her
mouth to cry, “Sir, it is you!”
But she was late. Two cowardly hands had already caught her throat.
Hearing the strangled cry of Kavita, the servant woman came
running to the parlour, and was baffled by the sight. When the man saw the
maid, he freed Kavita, and
she fell to her knees like a withered flower. She hugged her child against her
face and sobbed. The man frowned at the maid and spat on the ground. Thundering
across the parlour, he banged the door shut on Kavita.
Moved with compassion, the
servant woman dragged Kavita into her cottage, and Kavita poured out her past before her.
Trapped by the mockery of
fate, Kavita was the eldest of four children in a
family, in which there was neither father nor husband. Her father had deserted
them when they were small. She never went to school. When she was eight, she
began her loathsome career as a servant. Today she was fourteen. Ten months
ago, her penniless mother got her employed in that No.111. As Kavita remembered that detestable night when
she was locked behind the doors, her eyes sank in bitter tears. That
unfortunate night, the poor lamb was hunted, and the greedy wolf had satisfied
himself. From then on, she became nobody to everyone. Her own mother deserted
her, cursed her and chased her away. But as her womb became heavier and
heavier, she became somebody to someone. A mother to a child and a protector of
life! She realized that she
was wanted again.
When Kavita was half way through her story, she
paused for a while and thought, “Wanted? By whom?” A deafening silence
prevailed in the cottage. Suddenly, she rose up with determination. She
screamed at the closed door of Mr. Karthik,
“Sir, you’ve already signed the certificate. This child carries your blood. He
is no more a Dalit. He is
a Brahmin. He has a
glorious future”. Kavita burst into triumphant tears as she
hugged the child tightly. The servant woman was bewildered at her sight. Mr. Karthik opened the door, shocked and
defeated.
Kavita hurried down the steps. Having parcelled her only meal for Kavita’s journey, the maid gave it to her and
kept looking at Kavita’s frail silhouette, until she
disappeared into the darkness of the night.
