Sari Caste Page 4

  The boys saw me long before I saw them. Lipika had cried so much they could not wait for me to come back and pacify her. When they saw the food I was carrying they stopped and gazed at me in disbelief. It seemed that whenever troubled eyes looked my way I would see mother's eyes staring back. I filled up with tears for mummy and for the hungry little boys so overawed at the sight of food. I handed them the fruit. They didn't eat it. Instead, they ran back to Sharmila and gave it all to her. I was amazed at their trust.

  "Sharmila, I have found work! We will eat. I have bought the boys a gift, a kite for play. Look it is so lovely." Everything tumbled out in my anxiety to cheer her. I could not ask about Hiren but there was no need. He lay staring at me as passively as before I had left that morning.

  Sharmila's eyes held gratitude and that ever-present look of debilitating need. "I shan't forget your goodness. Take the little one and feed her. I think she is more used to your milk." She snatched the food from me to share it onto leaves the children had found. Being able to set some aside for her husband who had not yet returned gladdened her. We all ate in eager silence while Lipika took all she could from me, her little face red and puffy from sobbing. With full stomachs, wildly excited, and followed by a stream of noisy friends the boys ran off to find a place to fly their kite. They had received a frivolous thing of childhood. Although I did not go with them I felt great pride in my ability to have made them the centre of so much excitement and fun.

  Kalidas was a quiet man. He finally arrived that evening exhausted. He had that same look of fragility I had seen in Sharmila but his eyes, even more piercing, seemed to penetrate my very soul. Yet he said little. Sometimes, he found work as a coolie bearing tall weighty loads on his head as he darted through the cramped traffic of the city. He accepted the food Sharmila had kept aside for him but ate without enthusiasm. After supper he went off alone somewhere, just as my father always did. Sharmila must have noticed how closely I had watched him, for she said in his defence, "I'm glad he likes to drink cha with the other men. That way he might hear of work and he doesn't have to suffer the children's hungry eyes on him. He hates to see them hungry."

  "He is a good man." I commented. "My father used to waste our money drinking too much alcohol. My mother suffered many beatings."

  "You suffered too." She smiled kindly. "The children always suffer but karma is karma. What is there to do?"

  Her passive acceptance, just like mummy's, quickened my anger. "I hate my father. He has never cared for anyone, except himself. Because of him I have nothing now." I felt shaken by my own ferocity.

  Sharmila took my hands into her lap and smiled at me as one would a little child. "No. You have someone now. You are her whole world and she can't live without you." Her hollow face looked gently into mine. "To our children we are like gods." She said. "Even little Hiren tries his best. He doesn't cry often." Her well meaning words warmed me but I could not find it in my heart to smile. We both knew Hiren didn't cry because he was too weak and indifferent, if only he had the energy to fight back. Gods were not powerless like us.

  Next morning after washing, in the awkward way Sharmila had shown me, I fastened back my hair, took a long drink from the standpipe, then fed Lipika. Once again I was leaving her to endure a day of hunger. Having eaten well the night before I knew my endurance had been stretched to the limit. I couldn't stand the torture of watching our children's hopelessness any longer. At least this time I had hope for certain employment. The man had told me to come alone. I could settle into my work before taking Lipika with me. Once my new employer saw what an excellent worker I was he would have no objection to my baby. The walk seemed shorter that day. The traffic was as noisy and congested as always, the roads almost as crowded with pedestrians as the pavements. Once again I allowed myself a little more leisure to stop and look at the wares on display. There were rows of grimy goods all laid out on the street, everything from rugs, shoes, and pencils, to vegetables and flowers. I soon learnt, however, that if I stopped to show the slightest interest in anything I was immediately pressed to buy. Instead, with the last of my rupees I allowed myself a little rice at a food stall to give me the strength to get through the hard working day I anticipated.

  Ahead the bright yellow diamond, the one I had seen when I first arrived in the city, cavorted with grace and ease as it climbed the sky. I watched it twist and curl even higher and with it hope soared for me. From close by, a square shape flew up towards the diamond. This one was a fierce red with the face of the goddess Durga emblazoned upon it. With force, it wheeled and charged as it climbed to reach the yellow diamond. They danced together for a time. The red one drew itself up and slammed sideways in a circular motion that mesmerised the diamond until its thread was encircled by the bold Durga, who with stealthy swiftness, sliced through the diamond's thread. The beautiful yellow diamond drooped its head and lost direction. It arched its way downwards with flapping humiliation. I turned away as it plunged to its end. But why, when there was room up there for millions of kites? A shiver stole through me as I moved sadly away to continue my journey.

  Finally, I reached the meeting place with the man who had offered me work. I had not asked his name in case he thought me too bold. Straggly creepers overhung a crumbling wall where I crouched to wait. The commotion, the smells of spices and human sweat were oppressive in the heat. There were so many, many people. It reminded me of my bad dreams closing in on me. With my tongue I Idly traced the outline of everything around me onto the roof of my mouth. It became a canvas for me to paint in the shapes and colours of the busy ones who had and the slow who had not. Did the strongest always destroy the weak or could I find some other meaning in my life? I was desperately, desperately thirsty.

  "You're here and ready to work. That is good." Again my prospective employer had appeared at my shoulder but his gentle direct manner had not startled me.

  "Yes, sir." I replied with a strange mixture of determination and anxiety.

  "Good, you came alone. Then come with me and you will see how easy it will be for you to earn more rupees like yesterday."

  He allowed me to follow a short way behind him. I appreciated this respectfulness. We passed the endless rows of wares and came to an even older part of the city. Dusty, struggling weeds pushed up around the dilapidated buildings squeezed aggressively against each other. The torn walls were covered in graffiti, which seemed to give the only colour in this dingy place. I had begun to notice the sometimes drab, sometimes garish colours of the city and how depressingly they affected me. Where was I going to work? Not, I hoped in this awful place. On the other hand I was parched and hoped it would not be too far away.

  At last, we came to a door pealing faded blue paint. I followed my employer through it into a dim narrow passage with many doors on either side. The place stank of urine disguised with incense. I covered my nose with my sari to stop from gagging. He opened a door at the end of the passage and I followed him into a bright and pretty room that held no relation to the corridor. Garlands of jasmine scented the room. Marigolds decorated a statue of Lakshmi sitting boldly across the opposite corner. There were scarlet and gold cushions scattered around a low delicately carved table. To one side of the table was a shiny brass bell.

  "What is your name? You will need a cool drink." Before I could reply, he took the bell and rang it loudly in the direction of a second door to his right. "Sit down."

  "I am Manasa." Overwhelmed at my beautiful surroundings I could find nothing more to say. I sank gratefully into the cushions. Someone would bring me a drink? Someone wait on me when I was the one looking for employment? I was dazzled.

  A child of about ten, graceful in a green sari shyly stepped in. She greeted us with the namaskar, that is palms together at the chin with head slightly bent. "Yes, uncle?"

  "Serve us. We are hungry and very thirsty." The child nodded, darted a look of curiosity at me and slipped silently away.

  "You are hungry, yes? Ah, but I haven't introduced mys
elf. I'm Pramath" He paused to smile and added, "Your new employer and teacher. You learn quick? You like to learn?"

  I gave a cautious smile in return. I was to be given a job for certain. I felt some relief but wondered if I could manage the work. Surely, It had to be something straightforward for he knew nothing, at all, about me. I relaxed a little. There was a knock at the door, soon after which, it magically opened. The child appeared with a rattan tray, laden with two china cups filled with cha, a plate of steaming singhara and a bowl of sweetmeats, which she set before us on tiny cork squares. I was overawed at this special treatment. I reasoned, however, that this man of vast wealth was used to luxuries and so treated them as usual for me too. I was sure to like working here and hoped I would also like his wife.

  The child left with the empty tray. Pramath, who now sat across the table from me drinking the hot beverage with detached ease, insisted I eat all of the singhara. I felt a little embarrassed but it was so good I was pleased to banish the gnawing hunger for a while. I was glad he shared the sweetmeats, although, if I had been alone, I would easily have eaten all of them.

  "Now you are refreshed it is time to talk business. Where are your family staying?"

  The enquiry took me unaware but I quickly recovered to reply. "My husband and his parents, and sister died on our journey here. Now there is just me and my daughter, Lipika. "I forced myself to breathe evenly and not to hesitate over my lie.

  "Then you will return to your parents?"

  "No. They are too old to burden. I will look after Lipika and me. I can do it."

  "Good. You are strong. Come with me. Where is Lipika? She can work too." He got up nodding towards the other door on his left. I got up and followed him through into another pretty room draped with red velvet curtains and furnished with rich patterned carpets, and low cushioned chairs.

  I gasped and stared but managed a breathless reply without daring to explain that Lipika was a baby. "She's with my friend."

  He smiled. "I can see you appreciate it's a beautiful room. Of course, very pleasurable, very relaxing for our customers."

  "A shop!" I announced in wonder

  He grinned. "Yes. You're right." Again he motioned me to sit. From a shelf he picked up another brass bell which he rang three times. A number of children and a group of yawning, cloudy eyed women appeared. Obviously too sleepy to notice they wore only underskirts and lengths of chiffon slung about them. I reddened.

  "Manasa has come for work. Show her what to do." With an encouraging wave of his arm he made it clear they were to take charge of me, pressed some rupees into my hand, and left me alone with them.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A round fully saried woman, I had not noticed until then, strutted her way through the untidy group. She snatched the rupees out of my hand. "I'll keep this until you've done something to earn them," she snapped. I took an immediate dislike to her rough accent and harsh circumspect gaze. "I'm Mona and these are some of my workers." She pointed as she spoke, "Supriya, Lavali, find a space in your room for this one." She turned her intimidating glare on me again. "Work beings at 8.00p.m. Now sleep but first you have to take a pill."

  "No. I have been a pavement dweller only a short time I am still healthy." I replied indignantly.

  The group sniggered. A pretty dark-skinned woman put her hands together and lowered her head. "She doesn't need pills. She's healthy and strong, like a goddess. Shall we all become her servants?"

  Pushing her aside Supriya stepped forward and took my hand. Stung by the unkind greeting I'd received, I was grateful to follow Supriya. "It's just a pill for stopping babies. Take it straight away and we will all go back to sleep." She said.

  I caught my breath and for a moment could not move. This was the kind of shop Pramath ran. Not selling thing, selling women. I didn't want to be there but I could not leave without any other hope of surviving. I must think of a way not to sink completely into it. I would cook, clean or do any hard work they asked me to do. I told myself it would be easy to keep myself safe on the fringe of their lives. Lipika was my anchor. These women would soon take to her. Her needs and theirs would keep me busy with domestic chores. Then they would not need to rely on children as they obviously did at present. Children were not as strong as adults: they would get far more out of me than a child. There was nothing to worry about. All the same, what should I say to Sharmila? She expected me back long before I would even begin work. I hoped an answer would come to me. When I had swallowed my pill, to please Supriya, I would slip away to Sharmila and return later with Lipika.

  We went through one of the doors along the passage I had first come down. The bedroom I was to share was very different from the sumptuous rooms I had been in so far. It was dim. A heavy curtain was pulled across the far window so that the women could sleep shaded from the bright sunlight. There were four charpoys, one along each wall. Supriya took a pill from a rough black box and poured a little tepid water from an earthenware jug into a green beaker. "Swallow this and lie down. You must take one every day from this box." I put my hands out to her nervously. She smiled. "Hurry! I'm tired. I have a lot of customers tonight." I was nervous. The pill would not be swallowed. I had to fill the cup again. My mouth was as parched as a dried up riverbed. Supriya relented with a smile and told me to take my time. Lavali had already got into her bed and curled up with her back to us. Only her long plait and a black crown of hair were visible above the thin cotton cover.

  Impulsively, I decided to trust Supriya's gentleness. I needed someone to trust. "I have to fetch Lipika," I said. "I shall be back later."

  "Be sure she takes her pill too. Tell her not to wake us." Then she smiled again. "There will be four of us, good. You need much sleep to work all night but Mona might be lenient until the customers get to know you both." She had claimed her bed too and waved me off as she yawned and closed her eyes.

  She was so impatient to get back to sleep I did not dare to try to explain that Lipika was too young to be useful. This way, at least, there could be no objection when she did find out. She should have asked me properly at the beginning. I spat the pill stealthily into my hand.

  I left quietly. If I made them think the pills make me dizzy and sick they would allow me to do only the cleaning and cooking. Like a shadow I would move about in their dreary world until I saved enough money to leave. Pramath, my employer, was kind. He had allowed me to keep the money he had given me the previous day even before I began work. Mona, his wife, was mean and untrusting. The exact opposite of my experience at home with mummy the kind one and my father the hard, exacting one. On the way back to my little share of pavement I tossed the detested pill into a box of rotting vegetable leaves.

  Sharmila was eager to see me again but found it hard to hide her disappointment that I had no food to share.

  "Kalidas will surely bring something with him later. I shall try to bring food next time." I pledged guiltily. She smiled hard to reassure me of her understanding and to hide her pain. She asked eagerly, "What is your work like and your employer? You must tell me."

  "They have many people working for them in a huge shop. They are too busy to see me now. I have to return later."

  "What kind of shop? What do they want you to do?" Her eyes suddenly wide and incredulous fixed on me.

  "They sell ... all kinds of things. I will have to cook for their large family. I hope they will be pleased with my work."

  "Do you think a big family might need more than one cook?"

  She needed money, she was hungry and I was eagerly talking about my new job, and cooking meals. Everything I said held a sting for her. I searched for some words to comfort her. "They already have some other cooks but my employers might allow me to bring you any food they have left after ... " I had almost said, "after we have all eaten" but it was too cruel no matter how good my intentions. I bowed my head hopelessly. Everything I said was a lie anyway. Neither of us could have coped with discussing the truth of my situation. The guilt I struggled wi
th was little consolation for that.

  Sharmila touched my arm lightly. "The children must eat. Hiren eats almost nothing." Her eyes bright with the effort of covering her distress, she shone that fierce defiant smile at me.

  How wretched it was for her to have three little mouths to feed and to be unable to provide even the sick one, with the minimum. I felt so helpless for her. What could I do to save her? Poverty had brought me a choice between shame and existence. I could not afford Sharmila's pride. As long as I could keep going every day, that day was saved but I had few thoughts beyond that except my determination not to let Lipika and me fall as far as my friend.