by Sharon Maas
But all Asha did was stare, and her lips did not so much as twitch.
Caroline was beginning to despair of ever coaxing a reaction from Asha when once again the key turned in the lock and Devaki entered, followed by the same maid who had brought their breakfast.
‘Oh, you look lovely! Very lovely, both of you! Who would have guessed it – though I certainly knew that beneath all the grime there were two little jewels hiding! Mr Rajgopal will be
extremely pleased with you – this girl is simply delightful. She has a very rare beauty! Have you persuaded her to speak?’
‘Not yet,’ Caroline admitted, ‘but I’m sure I will.’
Everything in her rebelled against the role she knew it was necessary to play. She wanted to lash out at Devaki; to dig at her eyes, scratch at her face, bite and kick her before taking flight; but she knew she had only one trump card, and had to play it carefully. The time would come; and the means would not be violent ones, but wily ones. She would not lose this battle, even if it meant, for a while, playing the mild meek pussycat while a tiger crouched within, waiting to attack… But
no. There would be no attack. The situation called for cunning.
Devaki impatiently beckoned the maid forward and said something to her in another language.
‘What you both need is some jewellery. I will have some costume jewellery sent up. What’s that?’ She reached out and fingered the rings around Caroline’s neck.
‘They’re my rings. Wedding ring and engagement ring.’ As an afterthought she lied: ‘They are of sentimental value only.’
‘Well, if they are of any value at all I would take them off and hide them if I were you – that’s my tip. Because Mr Rajgopal will want them – you need to pay him back the price he paid for you, you know. He is rather greedy. I am sure they are worth a lakh or two. Even that he would want.’
‘Do you think I could buy my freedom with it? And Asha’s?’
‘With that?’ Devaki laughed. ‘A lakh or two is peanuts to Mr Rajgopal. I know a little about jewellery and I can tell he won’t be impressed – it’s certainly not enough to offset the amount he intends to make with you. If you like, you can give them to me. I will keep them safe for you.’
‘Why should I trust you?’
‘Oh, I am very trustworthy. Don’t think because I am working in this trade I am a thief. You won’t find a more honest person than me working in the trade. In fact, I am a very decent woman, my origins are extremely respectable. I used to be a maid for a very high-class English lady. I have a good education, my parents sent me to an English-medium school! And I am a very kind woman; I have never hit any girl working for me in all my life. I only happened into this trade through bad luck.’
Caroline realised that if there was anything Devaki liked doing, it was talking. The woman seemed under a compulsion to talk, talk, talk, and Caroline realised that the more she kept her talking, the more information she would get out of her, and the better she would be able to figure out an escape.
‘What happened?’ she asked boldly.
‘Well, it was that dastardly son of the Englishwoman – James was his name. Very good-looking! I was a young woman of seventeen at the time, very impressionable. He coaxed me into
acting against my conscience – I was a very innocent girl, what did I know of the ways of men? What could I do to repulse the advances of a young Englishman? He was younger than me, fifteen, sixteen. Well, all went well for a time but what did I know about the facts of life? Before I knew it I was expecting a child and that woman threw me out. What could I do? I could not return to my village – what a disgrace for my parents! I found a Catholic home where I could stay till my daughter was born. They wanted me to give her up for adoption but I would never do that – give up my own flesh and blood! Never. So I put her in the orphanage and went to look for work. Well, what work could I find after that disgrace – me, a woman on her own in such a big city? I was a fallen woman, and I fell still further – how could I not? What a terrible life I was forced to lead! But the worst of it was losing my daughter. Ay! Those nuns found out what I was doing and wouldn’t let me near her. They wanted me to sign some papers to take her away from me permanently – in fact they stole her from me. But I wasn’t doing that! And when she was six I stole her back.’
Devaki opened a plastic box. It was brimful of hairstyling apparatus: brushes, combs, ribbons, grips, everything one could possibly need.
‘I shall make this hair really beautiful,’ she said. ‘You won’t believe what magic my hands can perform!’
‘So how old is your daughter now?’ Caroline prompted. She had to keep the woman chatting.
‘About the age of this girl, or a year or two older,’ said Devaki. ‘Perhaps not as lovely but to a mother her daughter is always beautiful! She is fair too, of course – her father was an Englishman, after all. You must tell me your daughter’s story one of these days. I like to hear all your stories – I am like a mother, I really care about my girls.’
‘If you really cared about them you’d let them go. You wouldn’t be doing this at all!’
‘But my girls are happy! I can tell you’re new at this trade – any girl who’s lived for a time in Kamathipura would give her eyes to work for me! You are very ungrateful. I can tell Kamini
here thinks differently – she can appreciate the difference now.’ Devaki was now vigorously brushing Asha’s hair, and obviously taking great pleasure in it.
‘But would you let your own daughter work like this? If she’s Asha’s age, do you also have her doing this kind of work?’
The woman glanced at Janiki and scowled. ‘Of course she isn’t working like this! Don’t even suggest it! That’s one of the reasons I used all my cunning to advance in my profession, so I could move out of that place I was living in and find a more respectable lodging for me and my daughter. But rents are so expensive in Bombay – all I have is a small room and it’s quite near Kamathipura. The nuns would not tell me where she is but I found out. She is now in another home for young girls. She goes to a normal school.’
‘But if – say she lived with you. Would you allow her to…?’
‘Never! Of course not! I would never let her work this way! My daughter is very lovely. She is also educated, and in a year’s time she will have finished school.’
‘What will she do then?’
‘Well, I have to try and find a proper husband for her but it is difficult – I want her to marry decently but how can I prevent the boy’s parents from finding out what I do for a living? That
is my great sorrow. It is hard enough raising a child alone, but finding a husband for a daughter is near to impossible for a single mother and especially trying for me. But everybody has their dream.’
Devaki twisted a strand of Asha’s hair into a long curl and clipped it to the top of her head. She picked up a second strand and did the same again, over and over, till only one strand was left. This she began to plait with quick, deft fingers. Every now and then she stopped to push the bangles up her arm. Why doesn’t she just take them off, Caroline wondered vaguely, since they all keep falling down anyway?
‘What is your dream?’ she asked.
‘My dream? Well, I don’t usually tell this to my girls but between you and me, for my daughter’s sake it would be necessary to start all over again, in some other city where I can be anonymous. Lucknow: that is my dream! My native village is in the vicinity of Lucknow and I know the city well. A nice clean little flat for me and my daughter. It doesn’t have to be big, but respectable. I don’t even mind working as a housekeeper for some rich family – I would not earn as much as I do here but I would make good contacts that way. My daughter could also find work as a maid – I would train her myself. But hairdressing is my real dream. I have a gift for hairstyling. I would like to style the hair of brides – I’m sure I could make a business out of it! And my final dream is to see my daughter as a bride herself, and style her hair for her own wedding!
But it is only a dream. How can I start anew? I am trying to save every paise I have but life is costly here – money just fritters away and I am struggling even to survive. How can I save anything? You see, we all have our problems, and everyone’s problem is a mountain to that person, so you shouldn’t complain. Now please don’t talk to me any more, I have to concentrate. When I’m finished you will see why.’
And Caroline did see why. Asha’s hair, when finished, was truly fit for a bride: smooth and sleek around her face, and at the back a sculpture of interwoven plaits. It managed to be sophisticated and simple at once, every strand placed in exactly the right position, not a single hair out of place.
Pleased with herself, Devaki pushed the bangles up her arms again and turned to Janiki with a smile. ‘See! That’s how Mr Rajgopal likes hair to be styled. Now it’s your turn.’
* * *
After Caroline’s hair was finished Devaki said it was time to go, to visit this mysterious Mr Rajgopal.
‘Usually he would come here but he has a tight schedule so we are going to his place. A car is coming to pick us up. It will be here in ten minutes.’
Caroline had not spoken a word since hearing Devaki’s story. She had let Devaki style her hair without comment, murmuring only an ‘um’ in answer to questions, or nodding when asked for approval. She’d been thinking, planning, plotting. Now it was time to speak up.
‘Devaki,’ she said, quietly. ‘I’m going to make you an offer. Come; look at me.’
‘Yes? What is it?’ Devaki was touching up Asha’s face; a little bit more rouge, and a touch more kajal. Asha now looked more like eighteen than thirteen, and Caroline wondered in passing why, if young girls were so coveted in this trade, so much effort was made to make them look older. But other things were on her mind and so she said now, ‘Come, Devaki. Leave her and come.’
‘Just a little bit more – close your eyes, darling – I’m coming. What is it? We have to hurry. The car will be here soon—’
‘Never mind the car, Devaki. Listen: how would you like to fulfil your dream now? Right now – next week, maybe? I can make your dream come true.’
Devaki’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean I have money. I have money here in my bank in Mumbai. I have my own savings, but my husband is also a very rich man. Only yesterday I was talking to him and he said he is going to wire over some money to my bank account in India. I have a bank account that I use to pay for Asha’s maintenance. Well, now it is full of money. I will give you enough to buy a little house in Lucknow and set you up independently there. You are so good with hairstyling. You can start your hairstyling business right away. I will help you. I promise. I can write you a cheque right away. I have my chequebook in my handbag.’
‘No cheque. Cash. We go to bank and you give cash.’
‘I won’t be able to withdraw a large amount in cash. I know this from when I was living in India. But I can get them to issue a bank draft. That is just like cash. Then you can deposit it in your own bank and in a few days the money will be yours.’
Devaki frowned, thinking. ‘But if I do that and you report me maybe you send police to put me in jail. When I collect money from bank.’
‘No, Devaki. I would never do that. I promise. You can trust me.’
‘Why I should trust you? No. It is a trick.’
Why, indeed? Caroline, the panic rising within her, had to think quickly. It was now or never. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Cleared her mind. And in that moment, inspiration came to her. She reached up, behind her neck.
‘Look, Devaki. These rings. They are my engagement ring and my wedding ring. I lied to you. They are worth a lot of money. More than a crore. It is a real diamond on the engagement ring. It was very expensive. But I will give both to you as a deposit. Because I trust you. If I can trust you, you can trust me. Listen: we will go to my bank now together. I will instruct them to write a draft, which I will give you, along with the two rings. In a few days’ time you call me at my hotel and we go together to your bank, to collect the cash. And once you have the cash, you return the rings to me. So the rings are a deposit. I trust you, and you trust me. The rings are very precious to me but I trust you. You could sell them for a lot of money, but it would take time, and it is risky as it would be theft. The bank draft would be easier for you. You could be in Lucknow in a week’s time. All you have to do is give me back my Asha. I am a mother too, Devaki. As mothers together, let us help each other. Here. Take the rings.’
As she spoke, unclasping the chain, she looked Devaki in the eye, trying to hold the other woman’s fickle, flickering gaze. She slid the two rings off their chain and held them out to Devaki. Devaki held out her open palm, her eyes still hesitant, dithering, doubtful. Outside, a car blew its horn. Devaki snapped back her hand as if bitten, wiped it on her dupatta as if it were stained.
‘No,’ she said. ‘The driver has come. We have to go. Mr Rajgopal is waiting.’
She turned as if to walk away, but Caroline reached for her, grabbed her shoulder, cried out in desperation: ‘Devaki, no! Please, let us go! You will be free and your daughter too. Let’s do this! Don’t let those men win! Free my daughter. Build a life with your daughter. Please, Devaki, please!’
Her eyes filled with tears, and that was the moment Devaki could finally look into them, feel their depth and their pain, feel her own pain, her own needs, her own longing for freedom. Devaki’s own eyes grew moist, and she reached out and closed her palm over Caroline’s hand that still held the rings. And finally, their gazes met, connected.
‘I do not need your rings. Keep them. I trust you. We will do it. We will go to the bank.’
* * *
The car slid through the open gate, Devaki in the passenger seat, Asha and Caroline in the back. Caroline held her breath. Would Devaki change her mind? Would she rethink her decision, get cold feet, fear that she would be caught, mistrust her, Caroline, again? The silence was unnerving – but what could she say to break it?
They drove in that unnerving silence for half an hour through stop-and-go traffic. Then Devaki turned to the driver, and spoke a few words. He bobbed his head in acquiescence.
‘The doors lock automatically,’ she said. ‘He has to unlock them for you. I told him we are going for a meal at a restaurant at the next corner. He’s a stupid man, and I’m his superior – he
will obey me, though it’s an unusual request. But he knows I don’t fool around. So he’ll let you out. When he has driven off we will get another taxi and go to your bank.’
The car stopped in front of a restaurant. There was a click as the locks were released. Caroline opened her door, and she and Asha stepped out onto the pavement. Devaki’s door opened too, and she climbed out to stand beside them.
‘Now we all walk calmly towards the restaurant. Driver will have to drive away, he’s going to park somewhere nearby and I told him to pick us up in half an hour. When he comes he won’t find anybody!’ Devaki could hardly hide her mirth at this thought; she placed a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. ‘He’s very faithful to Mr Rajgopal but he has to obey me. Come on, let’s go. Walk in front of me as if I’m the boss!’
They made their way towards the restaurant; the car slid past them.
‘All right. He’s gone. Now a taxi!’ Devaki flagged down an empty motor-rickshaw, which stopped immediately. The two women and Asha climbed in. Caroline checked the address of her bank’s Mumbai branch.
‘Central Avenue Road, Chembur,’ she said, and Devaki repeated the instructions to the driver. The rickshaw scooted off.
It took an hour to get to the bank, and another half-hour before the cashier slid the bank draft over the counter to Caroline. They left the bank together, and Caroline placed the draft in Devaki’s hands.
‘Here you are. Two crores of rupees. Take it to your own bank. It is yours. It is your new life.’
Devaki placed the draft between her two palms, raised her hand to her fo
rehead, closed her eyes.
‘It’s the grace of God,’ she said. ‘You are God in human form.’ Caroline laughed, and namasted in return.
‘No, Devaki, I’m just a mother doing what is right for her child!’ she said. ‘I wish you well. And your daughter. I think the trade is losing a little piece of humanity today.’
They namasted again; then, simultaneously, they turned around, parting company.
Devaki walked in one direction; Caroline took Asha’s hand and walked in another.
She had no idea where she was. Traffic snorted and screeched around her, exhaust fumes belched, the pavement heaved with a stream of humanity that parted at their coming and closed again behind them. She decided to take a taxi. Devaki had let her keep her little shoulder bag; she rummaged inside it. The brothel-keeper in Kamathipura had taken her purse, but her credit card was still there, stored separately in a zippered pocket. She had been warned to keep only cash in her purse, in case of pickpockets.
‘Come, Asha. Let’s find a bank, and a cash machine. And then we’ll take a taxi and go home. We’re free. For ever! And I’ll never let you go again.’
She took Asha’s hand and walked on. And then she could no longer walk. She ran, and as she ran she laughed, and Asha ran beside her and she laughed too.
Chapter 52