Rs 80 or school
Every girl in Punjab whose name gets lost in the dusty brick lanes/ galliyan is known as Nikki . The real name is given with lament at birth to the dai/ midwife and then registered in the Panchayat Ghar , thanks to the Akali governments tall claims of protecting the girl child and giving money in her name for her education .
Her name was Rani, lovingly called by her mother who was already as old as Father time giving birth consecutively to four girls year after year in the quest for a boy . This wish to sire a son was going to be the death of her . All the pind women whispered about it in groups when they went for there early morning business before anyone woke up. Why Sher Singh! was full of anger at her inability to give him a son and there were rumors of him getting married again . His mother the old chajjo was already sending out feelers to the next village's panch's daughter . She was supposed to be a beautiful 16 year old ready for marriage and she did bring dowry with her too.
The talk shifted to lewd , dirty and naughty comments and all was dampened with the loud speaker spluttering to life with Bhaiji's voice starting the day with his sonorous voice. The voice of Bhai Tirlok Singh seemed like a direct reprimand from Babaji itself.
Nikki grew up under two different mothers, one who was forever working on the stove , making meals for the family , the extended family and a helper. Choti ma the new mother was decorative, well she did work but only to be seen when her father was home . She went to the village shop, bought all the stuff which was needed , she went on thursdays to light a chiraag at the holy place , with the rest of the girls. Choti ma had brought a precious buffalo in her dowry , a trunk full of clothes for the winter, bedding which was soft , velvety in feel and clothes for Bapu. And , she had secured her position in the household firmly , by producing the elusive heir , Raja. Nikki loved him with all her life. He was forever dressed in beautiful clean clothes thanks to her mother who looked after him , bathed him , put him to sleep with all the love , warmth and motherly affection of a mother. Years flew and Nikki started attending the primary school where she would get a mid-day meal and was also given a stipend by the government . Her older sisters had never been to school, they all worked in the near by fields working in a group under a thekedarni called Baby who was responsible for the girls. Her sisters dressed up , wore kajal ,bangles, had earrings , the latest baliyan with ghungroos in them . She loved the fact that bapu allowed them one day's wage. Eighty rupees .
Oh! How much one could do with that much money. She would eat sweets from the shop, the yummy crispy jalebis orange in color twisted and fried similar to her life. She would buy bangles , pink red green and wear them all day along . Nikki wanted to wear baliyan instead of the ordinary threads she wore. Her ears had been pierced in the last mela but nobody bought her a pair , there was never enough money for it all to go around and then some left for extras.Nikki had spent many hours dreaming , fantasizing about the money where she would be answerable to no one for the amount. It was hers . No one could take it, no one would say give it to Raja , he is small . Clothes are need for him . No one could ask her money to pay the village shop bill which never went down . It was a mystery how the amount never changed , always he had an answer for the bill which was complicated and had a carry forward from last month. She was good in maths , she knew how to add calculate in her mind but his bill was even beyond her.
The day came, she had finished her eight class , she need not go to the senior school. She wanted to work in the fields, be independent, be the master of her desires, she wanted to wear her pretty suits and go work in the fields , laugh play and have fun coming back into trolley which brought them back at dusk.Nikki started working in the same groups with her sisters and it wasn't at all easy . The sun beat fiercely on them , it was hard work standing ,bending picking , cutting bundles of rice. The sharp rice ears cut into her hands , making them bleed and the sun was merciless. The in charge who had joked, laughed with her was an eagle eyed hawk, she spotted any lax garland was quick in reprimanding them. There was an average which had to be maintained and it was important to fulfill the quota , other wise a straightway cut in the daily wage. Nobody had told her about this side of the picture.
She had thought it was all easy , going to the fields, doing what was told and getting the money and on sunday getting the eighty rupees. Nikki and her friends thought it was easy , they just knew what the eighty rupees symbolized . For them it meant new slippers, bangles, sweets , the hard work, the labor , the aches and pains and the merciless sun which never moved from over them . They were so blinded by the illusion of freedom , that they overlooked the hard work , the labor. It was an exchange from a perceived prison to an actual one.
Sunday finally came, Nikki's hands were all cut , swollen at places bitten by insects which she never knew existed ,feet all cracked , dirty, dark with slipper straps imprinted on them . Starting to tan , the golden wheatish color Punjab is so famous ( a variety coined by the match makers and patented by North Indians) , Nikki wore her best suit in anticipation of the evening stop at the shops.
The suit was pink with blue piping with mirrors stitched on by her mother. She worked, counted the hours till 6 pm and , focussed just on getting the day by. It would have been better to study , she thought . Her teacher had told her but she had never paid heed . She wondered though, even if she had studied for the next two years it would not have made a difference ,eventually she would have come to the fields to work as a daily worker. What did math or punjabi or rudimentary science help in cutting wheat? Does it make wheat cutting easier, quicker or faster ? How did education translate into a better life?
The evening came, anticipated with new eyes, even the wind had become cooler , enveloping her giving her a respite from the heat and cooling her down. The evening held so much promise , the day had finally come . She took the wages in the evening and she walked with a cockier step, her posture, demeanor had changed and she felt it was worth it ; the hard work, labor had paid off and she walked the steps in a world of her own.Her friends and she reached the village back with so many plans, laughter,all the back breaking work, forgotten after the money which was in their hands.
They walked to the shop in a rhythm of their own , feet taking them to their destination . Evening had descended , a twilight hour neither day nor night , they walked quickly to the village shop on the outskirts . She had to buy her jalebis, her baaliyan and then make her way home. Suddenly they were waylaid by a group of young boys a mixed motley of young and not so young boys who were masked . They asked for their money , a couple of girls fled and one of them stood behind Nikki . She was quivering, clutching her money in her fist behind her back and she said , "I don't have any money . It's with Bapu. " She did not want to give her hard-earned money to a group of boys who were teasing them and wanted to take it away just because they were stronger . They did not know what it meant to work in the merciless sun , working hour after hour without stopping and fulfilling the quota . Any less meant that her wage was proportionate.
Her negative stance made one of the boys move towards her , cowering her . The shadows made them look bigger . One of them whipped out a country knife and started brandishing it . Instead of moving back , she moved forward, fear makes one bolder , stronger . The boy felt as if she was challenging his man hood , shoved the knife in her which made contact with her . She fell , and the money fell from her hand . The boys took it and ran.
Nikki lay there in a pool of blood waiting for help which came too late. She died on the way to the hospital.
This is not my imagination playing riot or just writing so that I make a blog entry for today. This happened in a nearby village and money was used by the boys to buy drugs . 50 rupees for capsules which give one a high .A life too cheap, snuffed away .
