Sari Caste

by Catherine Kirby

  "I'll never do that. Never. You and I are married forever. We have made our vows. They are solemn and binding. You must never forget that, either. We will save all we can. Then when Dol celebrations begin, next spring, we shall make our escape in the confusion of the crowds. It will be easy."

  "Dol. Yes, the coloured powders thrown about, the uproar, and the crowds yes ... but we have another problem. Kajal is angry with me. She doesn't want to come with us."

  "Kajal." He repeated. He had not known till then, who my sister was. "I see now, so she's your sister and famous film actress. She'll come if you persuade her." It was somewhere between a question and a statement; he seemed to be asking if I would still honour our marriage if Kajal wouldn't come with us.

  "Kajal is stubborn but we have always been close. She must surely change her mind, when she sees it as the opportunity to leave together we have been longing for." I didn't feel the conviction I put into my words but the hope was genuinely there.

  "Of course she will. Don't worry. We must continue to prepare ourselves." He said gently.

  What would I do if she decided to remain an actress and wanted me to join her alone? If though, I chose to go with Dinesh it would mean being parted from my sister. At least I must be sure she would somehow get safely away from the brothel. I comforted myself with the secret hope that if she was truly becoming famous we might all share in that with her and remain together. I said nothing about that hope to him. Disappointment seems more crushing when the dream has been shared.

  We spent the rest of our time enjoying each other. Yet it seemed almost a daydream, for surely only prostitutes and their customers behaved this way. Secretly, I was glad we didn't allow false shame to spoil it since we were forced to create our own unique reality. Our marriage was as real to us as anyone else's was to them.

  I desperately wanted our new life to begin but Dinesh had not lived a family life for a very long time. How could he suddenly be part of a family whose members he hardly knew? He was used to my complete attention when we were together. What would he be like when there were other pressing demands on me? Trusting a man was not going to be easy but I did like my impetuous cripple. He was warm and honest. I knew too, this marriage was connected with the need to be respectable. As a family, we would all become an acceptable part of society, where we could hold our heads up again. Would we truly achieve our dream?

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mona had recently taken in five young destitute girls. She made sure there was always a steady flow of children coming into the brothel. Some of the younger children stayed with us until considered old enough to marry off to wealthy foreign men. The older girls helped me look after the little ones, and then were either married off as virgins, or began finding their place among the prostitutes with customers of their own. The oldest prostitutes were then turned out on to the streets, back to starvation. There was too much coming and going to keep track. I was sad to see such young ones living this life when they should be at home somewhere with their own families. With all the worry about Kajal and my new relationship with Dinesh I knew few of the girls properly. They were giggly and always chattering nervously. How homesick they must have felt. I thought about my mother and wondered if she missed me as much as I missed her.

  The twins, Madhu and Semanti slowly became my favourites among the children. Semanti was reticent and clung to her protective and very determined sister. At first, Lipika was wary of them. She shied away, aware, even so young, that theirs was a special bond she didn't know how to broach. Bit by bit Madhu won her confidence enabling them all to became friends. Watching this bolstered my hope that, with patience, Dinesh and I could win Kajal over to our plans. I asked Madhu about her family. She evaded my questions or shrugged them off refusing to answer but slowly she began to trust me. I always encouraged her to help me with Lipika and thanked her warmly when she did. Semanti blossomed and wove herself naturally and sweetly into our lives. To my horror I discovered through Mona that their parents had lost their fields due to sickness and having to spend their money on treatment for the "useless" father and grandfather. It was a big family with a new arrival almost every year. The last monsoon had been a disappointment resulting in poor crops. They were all very hungry. Mona's offer of money and help to educate the twin daughters came, they thought, as a gift from heaven.

  The twins loved the market. They squabbled over who would be the one to take charge of Lipika and who would help carry the shopping. Madhu had a very forceful personality and could usually persuade her sister to carry the shopping, so long as she was then allowed to spend time with Lipika later. I didn't interfere. Sisters, I knew, must sort out their own troubles.

  The stocks of rice and lentils, which we were now forced to keep with such a large number of mouths to feed at the brothel, were running low. I got up very early one morning with Supriya, Lipika, and the twins to go to the market to replenish our larder. Being so many we set out on foot. Madhu and Semanti took turns in carrying Lipika whose crawling and exploring abilities told me she would soon be walking. The morning was still cool and the walk was refreshing.

  "Let me have Lipika now. She can ride on my back for a while. You two can go and find Sharmila. See what mischief the boys are up to today."

  "Oh, aunty, they are boring. Always working. They never want to play."

  "They are good children. Go and help them. Then maybe they will have time to fly their kite with you."

  Madhu looked sulky. She wanted to stay with the adults and listen to all our gossip but I needed a break. A little time with Sharmila and Bharati were a special treat. Supriya, good-natured as always, offered to help them find the boys and buy them all some overripe fruit to share. Mona, she had said, would not notice a little spending of our own if we were careful with the rest of our purchases. It was satisfying to know Supriya felt a little as I did. I had a strong urge to confide my plans and feelings to her as soon as we returned to the brothel. She was always loyal and I knew she despised Mona too but for now, I wondered over to the vegetable stall.

  "Good morning, Bharati"

  "For you it may be."

  "You sound grumpy. Something wrong today?"

  "Twenty rupees missing, Manasa. Twenty! Yes something's very wrong. I know who's responsible and I'm disappointed."

  "I have not taken your money. Bharati!"

  "Not you. Sharmila. Too much temptation. Yet I have been generous to her. I didn't even want her to begin with, but I became used to her. How could she steal from me? She's a thief, a thief. I should never have listened to you. I don't know why I did. I'm just too soft-hearted." Bharati wailed and cried, and made a huge fuss. For one thing she was enjoying the interest from everyone who flocked to know what was going on. Eyes bulged, tongues tutted as the crowd looked around for the culprit.

  "She's started unloading the second deliveries. We won't find the money on her now but you can be sure she'll have hidden it away."

  My heart began to gyrate like a yo-yo. Mona would make just such a fuss if she ever caught me with her stolen money. For a minute or two my body felt like melting ice. I looked round for Sharmila as I tried to think how to help her. She was not capable of doing something dishonest. I was certain of that.

  "Bharati, unless you saw Sharmila take your money how can you be sure it was her doing? Where did you keep it?"

  "You're wrong. She was the only person I've told where I keep money. Do you think I'd be foolish enough to tell the whole world? I'd soon be on the streets then and this proves it." Her hard look bore into me.

  I decided to appeal to her common sense. I had persuaded my friend she had a good employer but sometimes Bharati could be harsh even when she was in the wrong. "You know Sharmila would never do this. It must have been someone else, someone who happened to be watching without you realising it. I will find out who the culprit is."

  "If I was thinking only of myself I would not have called the police. It's better for them to deal with this matter not you." />
  I really despised her at that moment. An angry market crowd looked for poor Sharmila. They could not allow anyone to get away with theft. None of them could afford to lose any of their hard and long earned takings. They whipped each other into a fury. I tried to get to the head of the crowd but the mass of elbows and legs were impenetrable. It was hopeless. They all knew from where she would approach the market with her load. I decided I must go around them. Behind me, I caught sight of Supriya with the children and darted over to them.

  "Supriya, take Lipika I must find Sharmila quickly. Bharati says she has taken some money from her. The crowd is angry." I gasped between breaths as my heart raced.

  Anil, Sharmila's elder son began to tremble, his face stiff with alarm. I tried to calm myself and smiled reassuringly.

  "Where is mummy? Why are you running after her?" He demanded.

  I became suddenly aware of how it might seem to him. He had lost his father and brother. Losing his mother too, would be unthinkable. "Something has happened at Bharati's stall. I want to find mummy to sort out a misunderstanding."

  I could not spend any more time explaining. I had to find Sharmila. The day was warming up and the smell of the vegetables and spices filled my head as I ran. I felt overwhelmingly nausea. I rounded the last stall and stopped to recover. As I mopped my forehead and throat, I could see the crowd had found Sharmila and were roughly pushing her and shouting at her. She looked very frightened. I felt her fear. I knew it could easily be me that was being hunted instead of her but, although I was indeed a thief, I felt no remorse for that. Our lives were unfairly harsh. These people did not have to sell their bodies and freedom to earn their food and shelter. Had they lost their husbands or babies through starvation and been forced to fetch and carry heavy loads to keep their sons from starving? My anger burned with the sun on my cheeks. My fury drove me on. I must insist they listen to me. I pushed hard through the crowd to the very front and grabbed Sharmila's free wrist: the other was held hard by a huge woman, who in spite of her lack of teeth, was yelling vociferously at my bewildered friend.

  "Sharmila, some of Bharati's money is missing. They think it is your fault." I yelled yanking away the fat woman's hand to free Sharmila's other wrist.

  "I don't know what you're talking about. I wouldn't steal especially from my employer."

  "Listen to her. She thinks playing innocent will convince us she hasn't broken the law." The fat woman pushed her sneering face close to Sharmila's nose. "Yes, broken the law."

  "You will go to prison. That's what happens to thieves" A pot-bellied man in a grubby vest snarled.

  "Do you know what has happened to the money Bharati's lost, Sharmila?" I struggled on above the threats to make her convince them that she of her honesty.

  "Not lost," Pot-belly shouted, "stolen - by you. You'll be very sorry."

  "I have not! I would never do that. You're stupid to think such rubbish about me." I had never heard Sharmila speak with such ire. Her face stiff and her eyes round with rage. "Yes stupid. Do you think I would work like a donkey if all I have to do was steal for a living? My husband never stole, even though he died hungry and I shall never steal either."

  The crowd had become silent and tense. Sharmila's indignation, if not her innocence, was clear even to a blind man. No one knew what to say next. I decided it was a good opportunity to rescue her.

  "Come with me Sharmila. I expect Bharati has mislaid her money. Although her memory is unreliable, she would never admit it. We will soon sort out this misunderstanding with her."

  "You can't go. We must wait for the police." Everyone roared their approval of that. There was to be no escape for my poor friend.

  "If you are all too frightened to give a widow, with young sons to feed, the chance to explain, I shall find out for myself what the truth is. Don't worry Sharmila. They cannot hurt you because the police are coming here to stop them." I glared defiantly at the crowd before marching off to speak to Bharati again with no real idea what to do next.

  "Hold the thief. We must not let this woman lie her way out of this." The fat woman stayed behind holding on tightly to "the thief" while Potbelly and his crowd followed me.

  On the way back I found Supriya again. She and the children joined me and gave me some support. Bharati, enjoying her role, centre stage was sitting on her low stool whimpering and sipping weak cha, surrounded by sympathetic neighbours. Potbelly's group descended on her longing to justify their judgement and desperate to hear what was said.

  "Bharati, think carefully about what has happened. When did you discover your money was missing?" I asked breathlessly.

  "Soon after Sharmila left to collect her load at the top of the market, as soon as she was gone. She thinks she can fool me but I am a shrewd woman."

  "That doesn't make sense. She is the obvious person to blame if money is missing. She would easily have thought of that and where could she hide your money? Besides you pay her well. She has all she needs now. There is no need for her to steal from you."

  "You are too trusting, Manasa. It's all because of you I have a thief here pretending to look after me." She began to wail. Again more arms were laid on her thick shoulders, thick enough not to find the weight of the crowd as oppressive as I did.

  Tarun began to cry but Anil kicked him savagely. I snapped. "Stop it, Anil. That is cruel."

  "What do you expect her to teach children? She's a criminal." Someone in the crowd sneered.

  "She's not!" Anil yelled back.

  "She is and she will go to prison. That will teach you all a lesson." Bharati scolded him.

  "Bharati!" I was furious. Anil began dancing around as though he needed to urinate.

  "Aunty will you take me I'm scared." This was unlike Anil. He was proud like his father. Poor little boy must be wondering who would look after his brother and himself if they were left all alone with their mother in prison.

  "Come with me Anil." I took his hand as I made my last plea. "Bharati you must think clearly. I know Sharmila would never take your money but she will go to prison if you don't help her and the thief will still be free to rob you again." As I led the child away, I heard her sobbing cease abruptly at the thought of this threat to her future.

  We ran to the ditch at the edge of the market. "I will turn my back now. Hurry Anil I want to get back to help mummy. She needs her friends."

  Anil did not move. "Will Tarun go to prison instead of mummy?"

  "What do you mean?" He could barely speak for his distress but what he was implying began to dawn on me.

  "Tarun took the money?" I grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Why did you let him do that?" I crouched so that our faces were level. "You are his big brother. You should have stopped him. You knew that was wrong."

  His face was drained with shock. "Aunty, I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd taken the money. I saw him playing with it under the stall just after Supriya came. He's very small. He didn't know it was wrong. Please don't send us to prison." He began to cry loudly.

  I felt ashamed at my own hysteria and roughness. I crouched beside him and spoke softly. "You must not be frightened. You and your brother are too small to go to prison. Where is the money now, Anil?"

  "I've got it in my pocket." He pulled it out to show me.

  "No. Put it back before someone sees it." I stood up while my thoughts danced about for a solution. "You stay here while I go back and talk to Bharati. After a little while, come back to Bharati's stall with the money screwed up into a tiny bundle in your hand. When no one is looking slip the money under the cleaning rags she keeps at the back of the vegetables. Then Bharati will have her money back and it will all be forgotten. Now, pass me the money." I screwed it into a tight bundle and wrapped Anil's small fist around it. "Keep you hand closed and don't run so that you will not fall and drop the money. You are a good boy Anil." He smiled. I kissed his temple and he shyly looked to the ground, and back grinning at me. "I am going back. Remember what I said. Come and squeeze my hand when y
ou have done it." Anil nodded a serious trusting shake of the head. I ran back. I wondered whether Anil would be clumsy and drop the money or be too afraid to sneak it back unnoticed but I need not have worried. Assured by my trust and encouragement and the simple confidence of childhood, unnoticed, even by me, he swiftly completed his task. As soon as he could, he came and squeezed my hand. Finally, I managed to persuade Bharati she must check over her stall so that she would not look a fool if the money had been simply mislaid.

  The search began. All her neighbours began rifling the stall. She sat back demanding each and everyone replace her display exactly as she wanted it. It was beginning to look even better than usual! The money was not found. Anil's eyes were fixed on me in anxious pleading. No one thought of looking under the rags. I was hoping I would not have to be the one to suggest it.

  "What did I tell ... " Bharati had whisked up a rag to polish an aubergine. "Look, LOOK, LOOK I've found it. My money!" She threw her hand over her mouth. Her eyes goggled.