Was it infatuation or love?
Nishi was not sure. Whatever it was, she was on cloud 9. Having a single parent was not the best option in life, but did she have a say? Yet, watching her mother’s drudgery she often prayed for her wellbeing and just rewards.
Since the past few months, her mother, a house help, seemed to be more withdrawn, weary, and worried. Sometimes she would get annoyed at the drop of a hat and sometimes she would cry for no rhyme or reason. It was something new and quite confusing.
She had often wondered how it would be to have a father. Or a sibling or two? Watching her neighbours and schoolmates, was the closest she ever got. The movies painted the glories of having a ‘normal family’, celebrating even petty squabbles and discord. They were her fairy tales.
She didn’t have a grand mother or grandfather… no uncle, nor aunt nor any cousins to call her own. Ever since she stepped into her teens, she found many, eyeing and ogling her. It made her feel very uncomfortable… scared to be honest. She would tell her only friend and confidante, her mother… every night as they lay under their sieve-like tin roof, which was marvelous, as she could gaze at stars twinkling at them or pour molten silver on full moon nights.
Her mother would hug her tight in her bony arms, kiss her forehead and tell her stories of Sita and Draupadi. She would talk about staying away from whatever made her uncomfortable, and not hesitate to call out loudly for Krishna, who would come to her rescue, if not himself, definitely disguised as His messenger.
One evening as Nishi was preparing the evening meal for both of them, she heard the door being ripped apart and, in the doorway, stood the outline of a thickset man. The stench of stale liquor announced his unclean intentions. “Where is she? Where is your mother, the good for nothing?” he barked in a hoarse voice.
She said nothing, trying to recall if they knew him? What was his purpose? He squeezed his overfed, gluttonous body through the narrow aperture as the now ripped doorway shouted, ‘Help!’ ‘Oh God! No!’
“Stop! She is not here, and don’t you dare call my mother names!” shouted the diminutive child.
Rahul and Hari, two of the unemployed tramps, of the neighbourhood, were out for their regular tryst with gullible folks to con. They happened to be passing by. Out of curiosity, they peeked in and saw the local goon, bullying the little girl. “Oh! Today you could not find any one your size that you have resorted to underage victims?” The words were out, before either of them could shut the errant mouth.
The unexpected, and uncalled for intrusion, raised the older man’s annoyance. How dare someone snatch away his morsel? It wasn’t everyday that he could bring some pleasure in his shattered life without having to worry about someone hauling him by the collars or even to the police station. Like a jungle cat, whose prey has been snatched just as he was going to devour it, he turned to remove the fly in the ointment.
“Rascals! How dare you?”
“Sorry to spoil your plans, we thought someone called for help!”
“You good for nothing fellows, let me teach you a lesson,” and he charged at them meaning to hit them with all his might.
The sprightly young men jumped back, as the portly man sailed between them and landed on the hard ground. “Thud!” He got up like a coiled spring. He was used to throwing his weight around, quite literally. Ready to plant his solid punch on the pipsqueaks, which would send them in orbit. “You don’t mess with me and get away with it, you scumbags!” he growled. By this time Nishi had brought the only strong thing in their house, a thick stick to propel the plastic sheet during the merciless monsoons, over their tea strainer – roof. With all the strength in her puny arms and the infinite store in her mind she brought it down on the old man’s foot. Taken by surprise, writhing in pain, he fell like a sack of potatoes. By that time, he remembered his ‘Rampuri’. As it is he was blinded with rage, add to it pain and he threw caution to the wind.
Out came the gleaming blade, with its razor-sharp edge, keen to slice off anything efficiently, vegetables or organs, fruits, or men, without any discrimination. The little girl caught her breath, the stick slipping from her hand, as she watched the hypnotic blade swishing through the air in a neat curve, ready to render its service. “Thud”, “Ahhhhh” sounded simultaneously as she saw the stick in her mother’s hand which had also neatly sliced the air to land on the assailant’s hand, smartly throwing off the deadly knife while rendering that hand useless. The two young boys ran out in a jiffy while Nishi hugged her mother.
The uncontrollably angry woman yelled, “Get out of my house immediately, else I will call the police and my employer.” Yelping in pain, the heap on the floor was rolling uncontrollably caught between his broken and painful limbs.
Wondering whether she should call her employer, a lawyer at the high court, cause the threat to her precious child now stook naked, she focused on the task at hand. She had to get rid of the man.
The highly respected lady in the derelict neighbourhood, Mira Didi, rushed in, with Rahul and Hari close at her heels. “Are you ok?” she asked the mother- daughter duo before she turned her attention on the notorious goon writhing and moaning. “If you ever come anywhere near this woman or her daughter, I will ensure you are in prison, before you even know it.”
Mira Didi was a social worker who visited the neighbourhood regularly, helping to spread awareness about health, hygiene, career guidance and anything else people wanted to know about.
Nishi had always respected her but now she couldn’t help adoring her. As the goon, picked himself up and slowly made his way out of the hovel, hobbling in pain, the boys enquired if they could help in any way.
Mira Didi, thanked them, as did Nishi’s mom, for their timely intervention had prevented any harm. They refused to accept any praise, claiming it was their duty as they left.
Nishi no longer felt alone.
Somehow her story of picking up the stick boldly to defend the boys spread like wildfire. She found more eyes reflecting appreciation towards her while the ogling decreased. Rahul and Hari dropped by once in a while to find out how they were doing. Well, was it just to find out about their wellbeing… or did Hari’s eyes sparkle with emotion?
Was it infatuation or love? Nishi wasn’t sure… whatever it was, her heart skipped a beat whenever Hari was near, smiling at her from his heart.
She adored him for sure, was he her Krishna?
