Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Her grandmother had kept her name; she was Nanaki to the world, but pyaar se nanu to her Daadi. All those loving endearment, love showered to her and the gentle prodding to do better had all stopped when Raj had presented to her parents. Matches made in heaven, don’t worry she can study later, she will have a comfortable life, what more does she want and well she was married. How easily we let a girl be manipulated by these words by our well-wishers? It was as if she wasn’t a living human being who didn’t dream or have hopes , but just the fact she was a girl , her only raison de arte in life was to get married. God had let her take birth so she may marry and procreate.

Shrugging these thoughts, she was rudely woken out of her day dreaming when someone dropped a bag on her feet. Curbing an expletive, she looked up shaken from her reverie, and met a little girl who was holding tightly a harassed man’s hand, presumably her father. She said sorry was ready to cry, as her father kept on saying Rukhsana what is wrong with you? Can’t you be careful? Look what you did. Aunty is hurt.

N didn’t know what to say, she got up and her bag fell in the same way again on her feet, and she looked at the little girl with the dimpled cheeks and started laughing. This was so typical of her, to have things falling at her and she would get hurt and smile and move on.

Taking the little girls hand she said, ‘Its ok’.

It doesn’t hurt; look all the fingers are fine!

Nothing prepared her, for the little girls answer, who said, Aunty I can see your tears.

She made space for the little girl, who sat with her on the same berth. Her father, apologetic, uncomfortable in front of two females who were clearly bonding and he was the alien amongst them.

He sat in front of them, taking off his skullcap and just put his bag on the side and said, Hi! I am Anwar and am travelling to Malerkotla to drop off Rukhsana with Ammi.

He looked so tired, with hair all over the place , some seem to be sticking in all angles, and he seemed awfully young . And, then she was caught like a deer which gets stunned and paralysed with lights from an incoming car.It was his yes that just were so beautiful ,like melted chocolate.

She quickly averted her eyes , and looked out of the window, what was wrong with her?N , was a sucker for sexy eyes, eyes that were the windows to the world, to the honesty that reflected in them but at this point.Mad, mad she was.

A Summer quilt made of life

Chapter 1

Patchwork of life, a widow at 42 she should be given a shot at life? The way she wanted to; she reflected back on her life, lulled in to a daze by the monotonous clack of the train. This journey was a journey full of finality; she was finally going back home where it all had started. A sleepy town in Punjab where everyone still bothered about everyone. Everyone poked their nose in others; no one was above this particular habit. She had lived all her life after marriage in Chandigarh’s elitist sector, where no one would even bother to look at the next door, apart from the ever important maid. It was funny, how maids figured more in everyone’s conversation than anything helse. Is she coming? How much do you pay her? Is she stealing? Look at her fashion, her nakhra.

If the society matrons would pay attention half the time to what was happening in their homes and not turn a blind side life would be smoother and there would be less pain,

She , was over this , pain , hurt and sadness . Finally she had packed her bags and was moving back to her town. She could have taken a taxi , someone would have dropped her , or she could have taken the new buses running up and about in the state .However, she wanted the romance of the train. Something about the movie Jab We Met, appealed to her … romance maybe.

It was so missing in her life , she think fate had skipped this particular chapter in her destiny . It just was not meant to be. Why did we endlessly look for romance? She had to add this in the note to self list : Do not look for love, if its meant to happen it will  otherwise just chuck it . Her motto for life was Koi na ..

The train kept on lurching and making it hypnotic noise and she drifted in and out of sleep . It was this laziness she craved after the hectic few months.

Divorce , death , drama , she had seen it and experienced it all.

Paani re paani

Water was a very precious resource one used it for everything. Cook, clean drink , wash but the most important was to sustain .It was the life- source. Kiran loved when water slid off her hair in rivulets, neck and then her back. It made her clean, whole and pure. Happiness to her was an unlimited water supply and to bathe with it non – stop using the small tikki of khushboo daar soap from the nukkad wali shop. Swarna Ram had new, brightly wrapped soap cakes from the city that promised a lingering perfume, and also made the person white.

Kiran was a good, obedient but a very shy girl who used to do all her work before going to the next village with her brother to attend a private school. They used to walk to school, she obviously carrying Hari Om’s bag. Girls were taught to be docile, servile and they did all their brothers work. It was in their genetic code. This is how it was and she could not imagine going against her brother. In fact her mother made her press her father and uncle’s feet everyday. When they came back from home, they were obviously tired and she had to press their feet. Kiran knew of nothing else, or she could object to this.

Life kept on moving at its pace and then she heard of this evening school where she could go and improve herself for free. No questions asked, she just needed to study, attend school and she would also get clothes, books and sometimes the stationary like her friend had got. The new Princess sharpener in pink with glitter was so beautiful. It was a few villages away. She would have to convince, cajole and also promise to her mother that she would come back on time to help her with evening chores. In fact she gave the logic that she would get clothes and stationary free thus her mother would save money also; which could be used somewhere else.

Kiran loved going to class, listening to her teachers, the  gentle coaxing by her teacher to speak out loud, to not be afraid. To use her voice, to think , to dream of a life where she could earn and to be independent .

Kiran was excited , next week they were going to travel in a bus and they were all going to the city and to the biggest hospital in Jalandhar where they were getting a dental and eye exam .

Kiran had never had had a dental or an eye exam . Plus , the catcher was getting a frooti to drink and a meal there. She , just knew what she was going to wear .

Finally the day came, they all went to the hospital , dressed in their finery , hair oiled , combed and plaited . They all had their little name tags and had a hanky each . It is something It was something all kids carried, as if it was a security blanket. Some carried a white one, some a little printed bright towel.

Hospitals are always intimidating but this one was huge. Kiran had never seen such a big building ever. It was bigger than anything plus it was very clean. They kept on visiting new rooms, eyes done, and teeth done. They had just finished there, exams when ma’am started distributing juice and samosas.

Kiran and her friends loved samosas and were eating them when the teacher made another announcement.

She had decided that the older girls would all have another physical test .

What was a physical test? She didn’t understand. Were they supposed to run, and then they would test them. It must be that, she thought in her mind. And, she was wearing her mother sandals. She didn’t have other shoes. How would she compete with the other girls? Now, she would come last and Madam would be unhappy, she was failing the trust that had been given to her. Kiran loved the way she called her Kiran Kumari.

Kiran went to room no. 21 with the nurse.  Dr. Gurpreet looked at her and when asked her to go lie on the bed where she would be examined. Kiran vomited. The lady Dr. was taken aback. Was it the samosa or just too much excitement? She let her lie on the bed with the help of a nurse. When Kiran woke up, she looked at her; Kiran had marks around her mouth, dark stains, and a boil on the side of her lip.

When she asked her to pick up her shirt, to just examine her, Kiran burst out crying and laughing at the same time.

She said, Dr sahib aap bhi …

Kiran , suffered from sexual abuse at the hands of her father and uncle. She thought the Doctor was also going to use her sexually . 90 percent of the cases go unreported and the mother always knows of this sordid act. Kiran Kumari was my student , she stopped coming to my evening school and is missing . Her brother is still seen around the village and has the same boil marks around his mouth and has the dark discoloration like his sister. This abuse was admitted and it carried on when she would press their feet. Kiran Kumari is 14 years old.

Punjabi Khoon and its men

Punjab is always in the news; what with latest visit by the heir apparent of the Congress dynasty, one who can do now wrong, that is a story for another day. But yesterdays horrific act where a young girl travelling along with her mother jumped off a moving bus as she was being molested by the helper of the bus. It makes good news, a lot of media sensationalism will happen, we will have a talk show and the nation will want to know.

A panel of eminent feminists along with the ruling party, opposition and a couple of lawyers will be there. We will all eagerly watch and make a lot of appropriate noises. Drawing room conversation, golf club tsks tsks will be there and yes a lot of statuses will be posted and yes if the young girls claim to fame is there she will trend with a hash tag.

It is indeed a sad day in our society that we have become so corrupt, that brazen acts like these go scot-free. The moral fiber of the society has gone we have lost our ethos our values that made us a great nation. Its not even a B- grade Hindi movie where the writer has lost the plot and a defenseless young  girl of 16 years jumps off a bus to save her izzat , honor and pride from the villain . It is a true, live incident that happened with witnesses! Its not even been three years to Nirbhaya that we have this being played again in our backyard. I always thought Punjab would be different, I never thought the villain would also be lurking in my state, my hometown, in the next village, down the street.

It pains me that we will politicize the issue by blaming the owners who are from the ruling party, the Congress might take up this, but the real culprit is not who owns or who doesn’t. It’s the mindset that we have allowed to become of the youth. When did we arise a generation of young men who trifle with another girl’s honor just because she is a woman? All of us collectively, should have taught them better. There is a lot of strength, courage and bravery involved in jumping of a moving bus, to be hurtled down a road  - just to avoid someone’s sexual molestation. The actual coward is not the helper but the remaining passengers who sat mute and allowed this to happen.

Wake up, citizens it could be you next, or your sister or mother. The molester does not choose by a lottery, he just picks his prey. Punjab has always had a long history where its Gurus also gave their lives to save the weak and women who needed protection  but sadly we have lost our name tag of being a race that would save others .Guru Gobind Singh in all his innocence had said ,” None could be worthier than you to make such a sacrifice’.

I wonder who takes up the mantle to take the youth and the broken law and order to task . We all need a Guru to dispel this darkness but till then wake up Punjabis before its too late .