I am a middle child, and unfortunately a girl. My
mother can’t take care of me so my naani stepped in and took me off my mother’s
hands so her marriage would be saved! It’s ironical that my mother gave birth
to me but my grandmother who gave birth to mother can take care of me in her
old age! She started working again in the fields and well I got a life.
Did I tell you my name is Aarti? I study in first
grade in the local government school and last week we had some officials who
had come from the center, I think it was Delhi, and they told us about the
prime minister who wants to save the girl child. They told us about this kind
savior who wanted pictures of daughters with their fathers and they would be
shown on some Internet site. Everyone would see it in the whole country and
money was also being given. These men also told us about how important girls
were and how we could do anything we wanted to, and with us only can country
move forward. I was so happy that there was someone who looked out for girls
and would be able to make me realize my dream.
You’re going to say, oh she’s a six year old, what
does she know? I do, I don’t have a mama, just because I was born after the
first child, who was a girl, I was an extra and then my brother came along.
My mother couldn’t keep me and I had to be sent away.
My nani loves me but I need a mama and a papa.
I’ve seen her but I’ve never been held by her or
kissed or all the normal things that mothers do. No one had ever done my hair
like other girls do, no sweet pink clips. I felt sad. They these old people
think, I don’t understand and I should be happy my grandmother is giving me
food because otherwise …… I have figured out the silence.
Amro taiji, the next-door neighbor had said I would
have been left to die in the fields if my naani hadn’t been there to save me.
Well, I knew this to be true, sometimes babies were
born and then they just disappeared. I ran back home, to naani and asked her
whether we could send our picture so we become famous.
She shrugged at me and said we would see. She went
about doing her work and I went inside to play. I had a few toys and went in. I
had already done my work, the bed was clean and everything was ready for the night.
After dinner, I would go with naani to the fields once and she might tell me a
story and we would sleep on the bed together. I loved cuddling with her. She
was my life.
We went out at night and she promised me she would go
with me to the school for the photo. Why couldn’t a grandmother be everything?
Next morning, she went with me to the school to get the picture uploaded as
asked by the teacher so we could take part .She wore her prettiest suit a bit
faded and had her chunni on the head and she squinted as she cant see properly,
but we both smiled and the picture was taken and they showed us the picture on
the computer. Naani kept on looking at the picture and then we were asked to
move as others were in queue.
We went back and life moved on. After a few weeks, as
life moved on and nothing new had happened, except the uncle at the end of the lane
had been arrested for possession of drugs.
It was a Monday I remember, I hadn’t done my math’s work and I didn't
want to write the addition sums, someone shouted aarti you’ve won money, you’ve
money! Rs. 15,000, you are rich, come to school, come to school one of the boys
was shouting. Naani went out, and she asked who told you, how do you know?
Come to the school, masterji told me!
Let’s go, let’s go naani hurry, I kept on urging her
thinking about the sudden riches. We would have jalebis, get new clips; a new
doll and I would also buy new bangles!! I would be the prettiest and no one
would curse me for being born. I would show everyone, I was the lucky one!! I
brought in the most important thing, money!
We went to school where there was the sarpanch and all
the elders had gathered. Now I was shy to walk up and go to the stage where the
teachers urged us to walk up to. We went up and suddenly an envelope with money
was given to my grandmother who was shocked and kept on nodding and smiling and
we posed for a picture with everyone.
The whole village had gathered and kept on talking how
lucky I was. I was the ‘vichari” but I had got money. I was the lucky one now….
Naani left me home, and went to get mithai from the corner
shop for everyone. She hid the money in the small trunk and the keys were tied
on her chunni corner. I was sitting and started thinking, lost in my thoughts
day dreaming about my jalebis!
Suddenly two boys came in and asked where was Naani,
where was the money? I kept quiet, and started whimpering, crying as these boys
looked scary, thin, hair allover the place and some things hanging in their
neck. One of them came close and touched me and said where is it? At that very
minute, my naani walked in and she started shouting, looking at them. The boys
rushed at her, asking her for money and she said I don’t have it. The boys
pushed her again, and she fell on the side of the bed and her head started
bleeding.
I was scared and didn’t know what to do. The boys
rushed out and everyone came in to help and it started again, its her fault, in
the old age her naani is looking after her and she wanted the picture taken and
all of its her fault.
How is everything my fault?
How does everything again come to me?
Why do I become a vichari, just because I am the
middle child? If I had to be stuck at the order why not the first or last, the
idle one keeps on hearing all this, her life.
Ps: this is a true story about the little girl who is
my student now who is living here in Qadian with her grandmother because the
becharri mother can’t take care of the vichaari daughter….
