Kajal turned in rage. Wildly, she kicked and punched the bed. Supriya and Lavali turned to me dumb with shock. "She has lost everyone. She is full of grief. Supriya please go and keep Mona out of the way." Kajal was beginning to punch her own arms and legs. Lavali and I could barely restrain her. Deathly pale, poor little Ch'en, cowered in the far corner of the room. Kajal crumpled onto the bed. Silent tears rolled down her face. She seemed to be holding her breath. I didn't know what to do to stop her. In terror I slapped her. Then she began to howl and wail. She clung to me whimpering like a small wounded animal that had been cornered. She must have wept for over an hour, her face bloated and ugly. We were both soggy with her tears and mine. Somehow, I felt more close to her than ever before. Not wanting Lavali to hear I whispered, "I will never leave you again. I will look after you, Kajal." She lay her head on my shoulder and I rocked her to sleep. She became heavy and awkward. Lavali helped me to lie her on the bed and cover her lightly. We both left her quietly there.
I gave Ch'en a hug and took him back to the other children. I had to find Mona and persuade her to overlook Kajal's "sickness". I was getting pretty good at handling Mona. I managed to persuade her that given a little time to recover would be an investment. Kajal would work even harder then. She would be indebted for a long time. Mona always responded well to being in a position of power. When I returned to check on Kajal. I found her sleeping with Ch'en snoozing soundly in her arms.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sati's marriage came and went. Other child weddings followed regularly after that. They were not the long traditional Hindu weddings but a kind of mixture of flowers, adornments, and sweetmeats heaped on the child bride who was often given in marriage to a man thirty or more years older than herself. Once she was married she was taken off to live with her in-laws and that was the last we ever heard of her. At least she would never be poor again or live in a place like the one she had left. In this way the children found homes of their own which they did not have to buy with their bodies. I wondered sometimes what the good things were they had achieved in their previous lives. Their good fortune tormented me with envy. I had achieved less for myself than these little children.
At least I was no longer alone in my need and frustration. Now that I had Kajal to confide in I decided I could be brave enough to visit Sharmila. I had never stopped thinking of her. She had been the only person in Calcutta who had made me feel human. Mona was to be away for a few days. She had an orphan to collect: the perfect opportunity for me to slip out.
Pramath was around more often but he was not interested in what we did so long as we took plenty of customers' money. Strangely, he seemed fond of the children and in his arrogant way encouraged them to do whatever they wanted. He liked to think he was shrewder than Mona. He didn't expect customers to have anything they hadn't paid for. To ensure the children were kept quiet they had to pay him extra.
I slipped away one afternoon while Lipika and Kajal slept. I had told Kajal what I was going to do. She had been angry though something prevented her from forcing her will. It seemed losing her place in the family, losing Patap, losing her first born and now her respectability were so colossal nothing else seemed worth worrying too much about. She needed all her energy to continue our journey with as yet no destination to reach. Passions would dilute the daily effort. I knew how she always struggled to get through the day. She didn't complained but she had lost her glow. Her spirit was hauled about on her back like an unwanted burden she could neither dump nor find the energy to unpack and reconstruct.
I easily remembered the way back to the street dwelling of my dear friend but I could not find Sharmila nor any of her family. I asked people I recognised as pavement neighbours if they knew what had happened to her. They said that Kalidas had died, crushed by a lorry on Howrah Bridge. He had stumbled whilst carrying his usual load on his head. Distraught, Sharmila had not known what to do. Finally, she had taken the children and gone. I felt a huge wave of sickness wash over me. I sat down to drink from the jar of water I had brought with me. My dear friend had even greater troubles than before and I had failed to keep in touch with her.
I searched out everyone I knew to try to discover where she might have gone. Some said she had decided to sit outside the government offices until somebody compensated her justly for the loss of her husband and livelihood. Sharmila must have changed. I knew she would not beg but I had not expected her to fight for her rights. Now, at least, there was somewhere to begin looking for her.
On the steps of the government building I found a couple of deformed beggar children arms outstretched to everyone leaving and entering. I spoke to a little boy strapped to a low trolley. Although he was, in fact, a young man, his twisted body and pleading face gave him the appearance of a helpless child. I could see how that might encourage those with money to give more readily. I dropped a few of Mona's coins into his bowl. He grinned up at me.
"Have you seen a young widow with her sons waiting here? I heard she has been coming daily. Her name is Sharmila."
"Yes. She always comes at around midday."
"She will be here soon, then."
He shrugged. "She comes every day but she never gives to me like you just did." He eyed me curiously for a while before scooting off to find new customers.
Presently, I caught sight of her and two of her sons, among the crowd; she stopped and stared at me as though I was some kind of strange apparition.
I rushed forward to meet her and threw my arms round her but she remained rigid and cold like marble. "Sharmila! I have been looking for you."
"Manasa ... " She mumbled something and pulled away.
"Sharmila, I heard your bad news and it makes me so sad."
"All my bad news? You heard it all?"
I felt a thud of pain in my breast and leaned back from her to ask, "What is it, Sharmila? What has happened?"
She covered her face with her hands and slid down to the steps weeping bitter tears. Tears that had to escape but didn't look for comfort. Her children clung to her with fear-stricken faces.
I sat down beside her laying my arm across her shoulders to comfort her. I asked gently, "Sharmila where is Hiren?" She did not reply but continued her weeping. "Sharmila," I repeated "Is Hiren in the hospital? Is he still very sick?"
She yanked her arm free and screamed at me. "No. He died too. Now only three mouths to feed but nothing to feed them! Why isn't Kalidas here to help me? I don't know what to do."
"Oh no. Oh no." I found myself yelling. People turned to stare for a moment then lost interest. Nothing exciting happening. Just some street people screaming angrily at each other. I grabbed her arms and pulled her round to face me. "Sharmila! Why did Hiren die? Why? Did you take him to the hospital like I said?" She glared stonily at me but did not reply. A fearful realisation began to form in my head. "They could not save him? It was too late?"
She nodded. Her eyes swam in what must have become their usual pool of sorrow.
"Now there is no money left? You have nothing."
Again she nodded.
"How are you surviving? What have you been eating?"
"Not much. I haven't been able to make them give me anything, not even for the children. Nothing."
I pulled her up to sit beside me. "Take this money I have brought you. I am sorry I have left it so long to visit you. I should have come much sooner but I didn't think it would matter so much." In Mona's absence I knew I could convince Pramath that I had spent it wisely at the market.
The red rimmed eyes settled on me as though her pain had eased slightly. She took the money and turned it over in her hand. "Such a lot, Manasa. I can't pay back. How can I take it?"
I shook my head in reply. "It is only a little but I have found you some work, you and the children. That is why I came."
Something approaching a spark lit her eyes for a moment but she didn't speak.
I said, 'I will buy some food first. Then, when we have all eaten we will go to meet yo
ur employer."
She rubbed her hands over her face in relief. She had forgotten how to smile. Her shoulders drooped as she held onto her sons waiting listlessly, in the way of the pavement poor, for whatever must happen next.
The meal restored her a little. She had not eaten for three days. Ever since Hiren had died in the hospital corridor. Some of the money she had spent on medicines and tonics but he had become gradually weaker and thinner. In the end the money had not stretched to a decent hospital. Besides, I think my guess was accurate, she felt too ashamed of her lowly standing to dare to take him to such a place.
Twice bereft within only a couple of months, she looked thin and ill. Her own life had been so completely overwhelming she showed little interest in anything that had been happening to me. I was relieved not to have to invent some respectable story for myself but I didn't enjoy deceiving my friend.
We managed a little rest all huddled up together on a corner of the pavement in the shade of the building. We set off for the market late in the afternoon. I carried Tarun, the youngest when his legs grew tired. Poor, exhausted Sharmila trailed Anil behind her. When we arrived at the market, they still looked so tired and bedraggled, I was afraid Bharati would think them of no use to her. I had intended they should wait nearby until the next day so that they would seem fresh before they met her. But too late for that. She had seen us and was waving a strip of white cloth at me.
"Bharati is waving to us, Sharmila. She is too fat to move around much. Come and meet her. She will be pleased to know you are willing to work for her." I did my best to rouse my friend's spirit to grasp this opportunity for herself and her sons.
Sharmila's eyes were glazed with the exhaustion and the sorrow she was holding back but she dusted her sari with her grimy hand and did her best to walk energetically.
Bharati looked my friend and her boys over carefully and tactlessly. In my anxiety I watched unable to move or speak. She screwed her piggy eyes into hard little balls that penetrated every nook and cranny of their shapeless and shabby beings. She chewed her tongue and spoke not a word for several minutes. She seemed oblivious of my friend's anxiety and embarrassment. At last she said, "Manasa, why do you leave your poor friend standing in the sun. Get her a stall. Give her some melon to share with the children." I found I had been holding my breath. I let out a huge gasp.
Bharati glared at me. She turned to Sharmila, sounding her out in her predictably sneaky way. "I'm sure your friend won't puff and pant like that about such a small job, will you?"
Sharmila lolled her head from side to side and simultaneously set about sitting the boys down and helping me with the fruit. She found her tongue too. "I work hard. I can do anything you want and my boys will help. They are very obedient."
Bharati smiled her self-satisfied, "Aha I've got it all", smile. I relaxed. I knew Sharmila would cope now.
"I will come and see you tomorrow, Sharmila." She hugged me with feeling. The biggest thank you she could have given me. As they sucked hungrily at the melon I slipped over to Bharati and whispered "Be gentle, her husband and little one died recently. She is a faithful worker. She will look after you."
Bharati nodded knowingly. "Yes, she looks lost but hard work will bring her back to life and keep her loyal to me."
CHAPTER TWELVE
A few days later a policeman arrived and wanted to speak to Mona. She was furious. I was summoned to collect money quietly from Pramath. Nobody else was to know. I found Pramath sitting in a dazzling, glass-fronted jeweller's shop in the centre of town. It had huge sparkling windows filled with gold jewellery and precious stones set out to startle and amaze. Afraid to go in at first I stood gazing at the beautiful displays through the window. I could see Pramath inside perched on a stool gossiping with a group of men. One of them stepped out to draw me inside so that I could inspect the goods closely. Pramath smirked at his friend's persuasiveness but then recognition changed his expression to alarm. He grabbed me roughly and dragged me back outside demanding to know why I had followed him. Then he fumbled in his pocket and drew out a thick crumpled brown envelope, which he placed furtively in my hands.
"Hide this on you and hurry back. Tell Mona to give this to the policeman. Then you will have no further trouble. Hurry back." For some reason I was unable to move. He leaned forward, "Do exactly as I've told you. It will protect you all from trouble and from being thrown out or burnt down." Then his voice softened, "Take a rickshaw. It will be quicker than walking and you deserve it, Manasa. Tell me, how is your little one?" His sudden over-politeness stung me into action. Was he planning to hurt Lipika if I disobeyed? Would he try to take her from me? Whatever it was, it was clear to me that this must be some kind of threat. I took off shaking.
Pramath had given me more than enough for my fare. He was a confident parasite but his smooth self-assurance came from his power over women like me. My contempt for him not only angered me but also encouraged me to think boldly. He was certain I would not dare disobey. His smug selfish smile and my own curiosity got the better of me that afternoon.
Once in the rickshaw I carefully unsealed the envelope he had given me. It was full of Rupee notes. I was delighted. If I took this money, Kajal, Lipika, and I would have enough to live on, maybe, forever. I felt a sudden confused elation as if I was travelling through a tunnel of blurred colour and sound. We could escape. We could be free. I would leave a few notes rolled into a ball in the envelope. By the time what I had done was discovered, we would all be gone.
I sat holding the money tightly. As we neared home I began to feel nervous. How could we escape with the money? Would Mona check the envelope? Even if she had no idea exactly how much should be in it she would know there would have to be a lot to bribe a policeman. The police knew the brothel well. We already paid bribes just to be allowed to function in peace on a daily basis. What then was all the fuss about this bribe?
The driver stopped at the top of the street as I had asked him. I paid him generously merely out of defiance to Mona and began walking home. That rebellious little act encouraged me to think that I could be bolder. I deducted twice the fare from the envelope and kept the fare money, Pramath had given me. It was too much temptation to stop at that so I helped myself to three more notes and hid it all in a little money pocket round my waist beneath my sari. Mona would not suspect and being plenty of notes there was no danger of jingling coins betraying me. I smoothed the rest of the money out and carefully resealed it in the envelope. I felt appeased.
Filching money from Mona became a regular occurrence that gave me the hope of a better future. It was easy but it was also more dangerous than I allowed myself to acknowledge for money meant more to her than anything else in the world, and she held all the power. Mona may not have trusted me but she trusted her threats of dire punishments, that none of us dared risk bringing upon ourselves. Her unprovoked slaps and kicks were bad enough. I was afraid although careful not to be caught. I couldn't resist the opportunities presented to me, now that she always insisted I take charge of any money to be handled. Every time I subtracted rupees from Mona, I glowed. Later, I carefully went over in my head exactly how I had tricked her, in case I had left any clue she might pick up. Occasionally, a small carelessness almost gave me away. I had to quickly invent a story to cover up my mistake, praying she wouldn't notice a sudden sweat stealing through my sari. As long as I appeared calm and she didn't find my hoard, I hoped I would be safe. Beneath my bed, I found a ragged hole in the thin wooden floor. A scrap of rough wood wedged over the top made it a good place to hide my savings. I decided not to tell Kajal yet.
As usual I was back to taking care of the children. Kajal was reluctant to help me at first but the children were drawn to her. They seemed to sense her need of them. Ch'en, who now trailed after her whenever he could, slept either outside her room or at the foot of her bed. Although they could not communicate easily they seemed to manage. Kajal had become very fond of the dear little rascal.
When Mona
told us that Ch'en was to be married next it was completely unexpected. There had never been a boy married in the brothel. Kajal was excited and a little anxious. "Do you think his future wife will be a child herself or much older like the girls' husbands have been, Manasa?"
"I think older but she will be outnumbered here so it will not matter much. Unless she is really stupid she must fit in with all of us."
"It's unfair for Ch'en to marry when he is this young and so has to have a much older wife. He's not even of the same race as us. It all seems so strange. Perhaps Mona will explain to us."
"Mona never explains anything!" I sneered.
"If we are clever about making a fuss of her she might. It would be worth it to see what we could find out."
Mona was suspicious of compliments or favours of the simplest kind. We found the best way was to instruct the children to attend to her needs almost before she knew what they were herself. Of course we made sure she heard us directing the children to do this. I was amazed at her resistance to simple warmth and attentiveness. Nevertheless, bit by bit we began to loosen her tongue.
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