Kaash Phool

River Ghat (c) Kaliprasad Chatterjee

It was a full moon and the Ganga was a simmering like a stream little floating diamonds, millions of them, calm and serene, moving in peace, as if softly and gently holding hands so they would never get lost. A light cool breeze was blowing from the east as if it wanted to salve the burn of the hot summer afternoon. It was a bit after seven, the sun had just gone beyond the horizon, and the western sky was getting darker by the minute; it was time for Sandhya Aarti. There was an occasional whiff of incense and clang of the khartaal brought by the wind from the temples along the holy river. Women were blowing conch shells to welcome the night in their respective homes. The other bank was mostly dark with little specks of light at the ghats. It was one of those clear full-moon nights, when the Milky Way above seemed a perfect reflection of the river. The earthen lane leading to the river was marked by many a faded footsteps of generations gone by. This was an old ghat with verbal history dating back to over a thousand years. Much business once happened via this ghat, fortunes made and lost. New brides left for their husband’s homes through this ghat, sometimes never to return, their innocence left standing at the edge of the water. People took their morning bath here to start the day blessed by Maa Ganga. Before exams, students would come to this ghat and sprinkle holy water on their head, say a silent prayer asking the river goddess to help them pass their test. Laundry got done here, all the filth washed away by the river. Yes, this was once a very popular ghat. About a decade ago, the ferry moved to a modern ghat about half a kilometer away, and the crowd diminished gradually over the years leaving it in slow disrepair. The steps leading to the water have been broken. The fields around the ghat are overgrown, the brick walls and bedis have little trees growing out of them. The ticket room had no roof anymore, and now home to young families of pigeons and crows. But the water splashing on the steps remained the same. Not many people came here these days, and certainly not at night.

Shikha sat by the river on the small brick bedi of the broken old ghat and realized that it has been over thirty years since she last sat there. She was barely four years old then. Sumana, her little sister, was just born. That week Maa had returned from the hospital with the little one and everyone was doting over the new baby. Maa had been in the hospital for almost a week. It was a difficult pregnancy, and everyone was relieved that it all turned out well. All these years Shikha was the favorite of everyone, being the first spirited grandchild in the family. They lived in Bhopal where her father used to work at a construction company, but they made it a point to visit her mother’s family at least twice a year. When they would visit, Dida would make so many delicious misthi for her, she especially liked Dida’s poolipithe, oozing with sweet coconut and milk. Mama and Maashi would take her to the neighborhood shops and get her anything she desired, small knick-knack toys, crayons, and the like. She felt pampered as a princess, and always looked forward to these visits to Dida’s place. All the neighbors used to adore her, at evening teatime they would sit around her charmed by her rattling off the nursery rhymes and kobita, and she used to bask in the attention.

During this trip, Baba was not to arrive till another three days. He could not afford to take leave, the project he was working on was very important as the Governor was visiting. He was anxious about Sumana’s birth, but he could not be at the hospital. Maa was a bit upset with him. During the last leg of the pregnancy, Shikha stayed with him for a month, all alone in Bhopal, while Maa was at Dida’s taking rest and preparing for the baby. Shikha used to miss her very much, and clutch a picture of Maa to her chest to go to sleep every night. Being a single dad was not easy for Baba either, and so after a month, he dropped Shikha off with Maa and went back to Bhopal. Shikha found Maa very distant and rude. She longed for a little cuddle from Maa, for it had been over a month since she snuggled with Maa. But here she found Maa was usually busy reading a book or napping on the easy chair in the back verandah, or wobbling around the house from one room to the other. The neighbors would visit, Maa’s old school friends, and Maa would chit chat with them for hours, laughing and joking. Shikha would stand quietly by the door and watch them, but no one paid any attention to her, no one wanted to hear her kobita anymore. This made her feel very sad. If Maa ever glanced at her, she would rebuke – “Go to the upstairs room and study. Why are you standing here gaping at us? Don’t you have anything better to do?” Shikha would run away, flush with hot tears, ears and face red, and heart aching. There was no one to talk to, no one to play with, and no school to go to. Now she wished she was back home in Bhopal, it was better to be alone in her own room with her drawing book and crayons, than here in the middle of all these people who did not love her anymore. She was now missing Baba very much and could not wait to see him again.

All of a sudden with Sumana in the mix, it seemed that no one saw her anymore. Shikha felt like a ghost. No one recognized her, talked to her, or even looked at her. She showed up at meal times and got to eat. There were no special sweets for her anymore, no trips to the shops, in all the busy-ness of everything, no one cared to look for her. This made her feel very lonely, it was the first time in her life that she felt so unwanted and extra. She did not know what to do, so she used to wander off to the ghat and sit at the bedi for hours at a time, watching people get on the ferry and get off the ferry. There was so much happening, so many different kinds of people, dressed up in different colorful clothes, some quiet, some loudly talking; Shikha would sit there and observe the goings-on. At times she little heart would leap and want to join a boat and go out and away on an adventure, but she would not dare to do that. It was just a dream, an urge that she learned to restrain and stay.

Shikha’s one and only friend in this place was Roshni, the maid, Rajni’s, daughter and almost as old as Shikha. Rajni’s husband, Ram Sharma, used to work at the brick kilns on the river while Rajni used to work at several local homes in that area doing household chores – washing clothes, cleaning the dishes, dusting, sweeping, mopping the house, grinding the spices, and much more. They lived in a small hut by the river, near the ghat. They were from one of Bihar’s very poor slums around the steel city of Jamshedpur, and had immigrated to this area during the riots of 1978. Roshni had two brothers, one older, and another younger. Rajni used to tie her little son with a long piece of cloth to her back and take him to work like a backpack. Roshni’s elder brother, who was couple years older than Roshni, used to go to school. Young Roshni was left to wander about the neighborhood play with the stray dogs or just hang about ghat. People traveling along the ghat knew her very well for she used to run up and down the river banks waving at them as each ferry departed or arrived. She was always out in the sun and her skin was tanned to a golden brown. With her dirty and torn clothes, runny nose, and sprightly spirit, she was like a mascot for the ghat. That is where Shikha and Roshni met and became friends.

That day, right after breakfast, Shikha went to play with Roshni. The girls ran about the fields by the river chasing butterflies, dragonflies, and crickets. When they got tired, they sat on that very bedi, swinging their little feet, and waving at each departing ferry. Both went home for lunch and had a tummy full of rice, dal, vegetables, and fish. It was a good day for Roshni, she usually went hungry over lunch or got some donations from the ferry passengers. With Shikha, she was treated to a great lunch today at Shikha’s house. After lunch, Dida asked Shikha to take a nap, but she begged, cried, and made her pleading face and somehow got the permission to go back to the ghat and play. Dida did not have time to put Shikha to sleep. She thought – Oh! The world would not end if Shikha did not take a nap one afternoon. In fact, Shikha might just tire herself out and go to bed early in the evening. Before she let Shikha out, Dida made her promise to stay in the shade for the afternoon was very scorching.

It was the end of the monsoons, and the field was blooming with Kaash phool. In autumn, when they are in full bloom, the flowers are magical soft and white and gorgeous. One could gently tug the flower by the stem and it would slip out quite easily, perfect for little four year olds to play with. For Shikha and Roshni, it was a game to pick as many flowers as they could get, the one who picks most flowers wins. So for quite a bit of the afternoon, they picked the flowers in the fields. Then, they sat at the brick bedi, to count their stash, neatly separating ‘the load’ according to size. They wanted to compare who got the most and who will be the “winner.” Suddenly Roshni pulled a few flowers off Shikha’s pile. Anger welled up inside Shikha. Her heart started racing, and hot blood pumping down her little hands, she felt a strange force explode within her little chest. She picked up her stash and she hit Roshni with the bunch of flowers. A tiny little spikelet hit Roshni in her right eye. Roshni immediately ran howling towards her hut. Shikha sat there on the bedi, anger gave way to regret and then fear. She sat frozen. What will happen now? I did not mean to hurt her. My hand just went up, I could not stop it. Did she get hurt? Can I say sorry like the Sisters in school taught me to? Will it be OK then? What will Maa say? Oh my God! What will Dida say? They will be very angry with me. What have I done? But, I did not mean to hurt Roshni, I like her very much! She is my only friend here. She should not have taken my flowers! They were mine! I picked them. She had her own bunch! Oh! I am so sorry! What will I do now?

Rajni came out of the hut, she was very angry. She scolded Shikha with a barrage of Hindi words that Shikha could not fully comprehend. Roshni was standing behind her mother, peeping from her the safe spot, her face had two glistening streams of tears. Shikha felt extremely sorry. She hung her head down and said Sorry with as loud a voice she could muster. She was at the verge of tears herself, but no one was listening. Rajni kept yelling and scolding in Hindi. When Shikha lifted her head to look at Roshni, it seemed that Roshni was fine. In fact, Roshni looked at Shikha and gave a cheeky smile through her tears. That felt even worse to Shikha. So, Roshni was just making up a problem when there was none. Rajni yanked her daughter and marched off to report to the elders. Dida, in spite of her very loving nature was a very strict lady. Shikha was very scared, she definitely did not keep her promise to Dida and was playing in the sun. Maa will tell Baba when he comes back and he will not be happy either. Shikha was going to get into a lot of trouble now. Her heart sank. The feeling of dread spread all over, head to toe. Oh no! Everyone will be mad at me even though Roshni is perfectly all right! They will scold me. Who knows what will happen now. I have to go home and face it. I have no choice.

Shikha walked home, slow fearful steps. Maybe no one will know, after all they are all busy with the baby, and Roshni is not really hurt. If Shikha could just slip in the house, and find something to do in the backyard, it will all be fine. On her way home, she heard Dida chatting with Manju Maashi on their porch. They were talking about Maa’s difficult pregnancy and about how beautiful the baby was, all fair with thick dark hair, just like an angel. Shikha quickened her steps and went inside the house. She found Maa with Sumana in the balcony. Maa was sitting on her easy chair feeding Sumana, holding her close to her bosom. She was humming Shikha’s favorite lullaby to put Sumana to sleep. As Shikha watched this, standing at the edge of the door, a pang of jealousy hit her. That is My favorite song, why is Maa singing it to the baby? Then, quickly reality struck her back to her senses, she remembered Roshni, and jealousy melted into hot dread again.

Maa looked up at Shikha at the door and smiled. She looked so beautiful, her long braid hanging on her back, her face so sweet and lovely, almost shining with happiness. She got up, the baby was asleep, so she gently laid the baby in the small rocking swing, tucked her in with lot of love and care. The afternoon light was filtering through the coconut and papaya trees and there were beautiful shapes playing out on the red balcony floor. Shikha kept watching her mother, a part of her screaming to run to Maa for a hug. She desperately wanted to feel safe and loved and as tears came up in her throat and eyes, she tried her very best to push them away. She put her head down, so that Maa could not see her tears.

“Why are you so quiet? That’s not so normal for you. Did you have a good time playing with Roshni? I am sure you had fun. No school for the entire month, you must be very happy”, Maa said. Shikha nodded and sat down on the balcony stairs with her favorite stones. She loved juggling those stones, she had handpicked them from the riverbanks and they were all smooth and shiny. They looked like little stars. Maa was singing softly, on her easy chair, Sumana asleep and swinging in her little bassinet swing, it all seemed peaceful and all right. Slowly Shikha relaxed, and started concentrating on the little shiny stones, and watching the light from the leaves move around the floor and over Maa’s bright face. She felt her heart get a bit quiet, and it started to feel safe.

Suddenly there were heavy footsteps. It was Dida coming up the lane. Shikha figured that Rajni had gone to Manju Maashi’s house, found Dida and complained. Shikha’s heart sank and her worst fear came true when she saw Dida, all flushed and breathless, running into the house straight to Maa.

‘Oh my god, Manu, you have no idea what Shikha did today! Rajni’s daughter has gone blind! Shikha hit her with a stick and blinded her! I don’t know what to do! Hey Bhagwaan! This is terrible! Rajni’s family is so poor, they live on almost nothing. What will happen to the poor girl? No one marries blind girls! Sarvanaash! Oh Shiva! O Maa Durga! Please have mercy on us! Please help us, please help poor little Roshni!’

There was no peace anymore. Maa flew into a rage – “Oh, no wonder you are being such goody-two-shoes! You blinded Roshni! What were you thinking?! What will I tell your Baba when he comes back?! How could you do such a thing?!”

Smack! Smack! There went many slaps on Shikha - on her back, on her cheeks, on her butt. Maa was angry. Sumana started crying. That made Maa angrier. No matter how much Shikha cried and said that Roshni was all right, that she was actually not hurt; Maa would not listen. Maa kept beating. After a while, Shikha stopped protesting. She just stood there taking the barrage of beatings, no matter where it came from and how much it hurt, she just stopped moving.

Finally, Maashi came from the kitchen to stop Maa, and separate the two. Then all the elders gathered around discussing the next steps. They were talking about which doctor to call, which hospital to take Roshni to, arranging transportation, and all such planning. Around that very moment, Mama came home from work, and was getting off his bicycle, when they filled him on this problem, he also joined in on the discussion and planning. They thought he should take the poor girl to the hospital to get her eyes looked at.

They forgot all about Shikha. Sad, hurt, and angry, Shihka had no one to turn to. If only Baba was here, he would have definitely checked the facts before beating her! She was crying and missing Baba very much. She retreated to the steps leading to the terrace, took her few river stones with her, and cried in silence. There was nowhere to go. No one loved her anymore; they were all worried about Roshni, who was not even hurt. She sat there, crying thick hot tears, hiccupping, but very silently, watching all the elders talking. Maa had taken Sumana in her arms again, and was cooing to the baby. Shikha’s heart hurt very much, it was as if there was a thick thorn stuck in there and it would not get out. She felt hot and cold at the same time. She wanted to hide, but there was no place she could go. The beatings from Maa were still live on her body, which by now had turned red and was hurting. She wished she could run to one of those ferries now and never come back. What if she went away, will they miss her? Shikha slowly crept inside the house, unnoticed. The hiccups were getting louder, she was crying very hard. She crawled under Dida’s bed in the middle room and hid as far under the bed she to go. If the elders cared about her, they could find her. It will be nice if no one found her, ever! She did not want to be with them anymore. She lay under the bed crying. And in her grief, she did not know when, Shikha fell asleep.

At dusk, people started realizing that Shikha was missing. They have been busy taking care of Roshni and had indeed forgotten about the other little girl. Mama had taken Roshni to the nearby doctor. The doctor had checked Roshni’s eye and passed the verdict that it was hemorrhage caused by a broken blood vessel, the redness would go away in couple days. It was harmless, no medicines required, eyesight was all right. Roshni was not blinded, and all was well in the world. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief. But, where was Shikha?

Dida’s house had five large rooms and was somewhat L-shaped. The room at the end used to be Dadu’s study and had been left as such after Dadu passed away. Occasionally uncle used it as his study or to entertain guests. The other end of the house had Maashi’s room, kitchen, and the dining room. The middle room was the center of all activity. It was Dida’s room, with her large queen sized bed at one corner. One wall had wardrobes and almirahs. The other wall was the prayer wall. Dida was a very religious lady, and she probably had all the Hindu gods covered. Every morning she woke up at four in the morning, took a shower and prayed for a good couple hours.

The middle room was now buzzing with people, this time they were worrying about Shikha. Dida sat down in front of her gods asking for forgiveness and making deals with the gods – ‘If you return Shikha, we will go to the big temple and perform a major puja there.’ Dida had lost her first born to the river, the little boy had drowned while playing with his nanny near the river, he was caught in a rip current and sucked into the water. He was four years old then. That memory still haunted Dida, and she used to get hysterical if ever heard a kid had gone missing. The room was filled with elders again. They were all talking about how inappropriate it was to beat Shikha for such a trivial thing. Did Shikha run away? Did she go back to the river? Maa started crying – “Oh God! What will I say when her dad comes home!”

All this commotion had woken Shikha from her sleep, and she was listening. She was still sad, hurt, and angry. She was still under the bed in the middle room. She was full of abhimaan, and decided not to come out. Let them search, why not? After all they had beat me up without checking the facts. It serves them right. While she was asleep, the maid had put some empty buckets under the bed and had hid Shikha very well. The room had low power light bulb. She lay there under the bed, indignant. She did not move a muscle, lest she was found. Someone even tried moving the buckets to look for Shikha under the bed, but she was crouched up in the dark corner and too small to see in the dim light.

It must have been a couple hours, the room was tense, and it was mission control. Maa was on the bed with Sumana, crying softly and very worried. Mama had summoned a group of friends and neighbors and a search party had been formed. Some went to the ghat to look near the river edge. Few of his friends were patrolling the streets on bicycles looking for Shikha. One of Maashi’s friends came over and was talking to Maa. She suddenly got up and asked – “Did someone look within the house? Like every nook and corner? The little girl can be hiding in the house and we are all searching everywhere outside.” Even though the family members assured her that the house was searched, she was not convinced. She got Dadu’s big silver Eveready torch and started checking one room at a time. It was a large house, she started from one end and went room after room, moving everything that could hide a four-year old, including opening every almirah and wardrobe. After searching the entire house, she came back to mission control almost defeated. Then standing at the doorway, she said – “One last try, I am going to check under this bed.” Maa said weakly that they already searched under the bed, but maashi insisted that she look one more time. How can a four-year old just disappear in thin air? She got on her knees and started taking the buckets out one by one. And there was Shikha, crunched up into a ball at the very end, covered with cobwebs and dust. They pulled her out.

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Sitting at the bedi, and thinking of that day made Shikha smile. So many things have happened in these thirty years. Maa has left us, so has Dida. Sumana has a little bundle of joy of her own now. Mama had married and moved away, living in the city. Maashi was married and gone too. Shikha did not know where Roshni was, probably married and with kids of her own now. Their hut was not there anymore, only a clearing was left. Everyone from that day of her childhood had dispersed. Nevertheless, the old house still stood there, though a bit unkempt and unloved, only two rooms were in use and the rest were closed off and locked. Dida’s prayer wall didn’t have the pictures of gods anymore but the faded markings of the frames remained. The light in the middle room was still as dim. There was a bed too, but it was now a box bed to store the winter blankets, with no room for buckets under it. Shikha would sleep on that bed tonight, and not under it.