ENCOUNTER OF THE SCARED AND THE SCARRED

Dear Diary,                                                                                      11.15 P.M

It was a normal day until something out of this world happened! The alarm rang at exactly the same time it is programmed to – 6.00 AM. After a slight turning and twisting in the bed, I got up and looked around. Sarthak was nowhere in viewing distance. I called out to him a couple of times. No response! Then, a small scribble, in incomprehensible writing, on the dressing mirror, caught my attention. Even in my sleep, I could clearly know that he’d used my new Maybelline lip-liner to do his little graffiti on the plush mirror. You want to enrage your woman early in the morning? Just use her carefully hand-picked, ‘lots of bucks spent on this’ cosmetics to write notes! Sarthak-The sinner!! It read -“Baby, urgent meeting. Going out of town. Don’t wait up. Love you!!” And of course, the used and abused heart!! Sigh! Corporate meetings!! We both were entangled in them. We both found common ground in discussing the board-room meetings. But the difference was, while he was still enthusiastic about the whole charade, I found nothing appealing about them. What is it about these meetings that gets on my nerves? The unearthly hours that they choose to call the meeting for an apparently “gigantic issue”? The chill of the AC that a Bangalore-bred cannot weather? The-“I know that you have no clue what you are presenting”-look that the manager gives? Or is it that I hate my job so much that I really would rather do anything else that pays like this one does? But I don’t really have much of a choice than to continue in this god-forsaken job! I have my education loan to re-pay, half the household to look after (well the other half is his responsibility isn’t it?), a family to plan, a future to think about. Sarthak is just finding his footing in the new job - trying to impress his higher-ups; working away late into the night and being the early bird in office as well! Somewhere he is forgetting that he has a life outside of office; a wife, whom he married not so long ago, after a long tussle with both our families; whom, he vowed to take good care of, through thick and thin and in sickness and health! But no vow mentions about after-hours in office or the wee-hour conference calls, does it?

Anyhow, luckily, the maid had filled enough water for the daily chores. Thinking about my own presentation in front of the clients today, I did not feel like eating or drinking anything. I gave the morning meal a miss but to keep my brain functioning till the presentation got over, I had a fruit. While at it, I called amma. I still cannot do without talking to her before a big event. She is the only calming effect in my life. But the conversation was cut short with the battery in the phone beeping to death. Ah! One more bad omen! I get devastatingly superstitious about the smallest of things when something big is to happen. And today, I was to present the marketing strategies I had been devising all month long, to get the regional unit on the larger national circuit. My promotion as the Regional Marketing Head depended on this. Promotion only meant more money so that I could pay back my loan and quit my job sooner. A lot rode on my shoulders. If the clients were not convinced, they wanted to close this unit down. So there I was – feeling the pressure of the universe on my dainty little shoulders. How I wished I could get that re-assuring hug from my husband or amma’s loving caress! I ran through the PPT one last time, shut my laptop and packed to leave. I walked down to the railway station and punched my coupons. 8 rupees to CST – the map read. Thinking about the journey ahead, I felt nauseated. Crowded railway cabins have never been my thing. But it is the fastest way to reach my office; Saves a lot of time and money. And of course there is the adrenalin rush that one experiences after successfully alighting the local; pushing one’s way through the crowd – probably the only daily dose of physical activity that a person who leads a sedentary life like me, gets! I made my way into the dibba. It being a peak hour, I did not quite expect to get a seat for my hour-long journey. It was no big a deal. Moreover I had to be awake for the big presentation. Sitting snugly in the corner of a railway cabin, what with it shunting across the city (providing the much-needed cradling effect to the dwellers of the ‘city that never sleeps’), is a sure shot sleeping drug!  I kept looking out of the doors for quite a while. Numerous old buildings had been grazed to the ground and huge apartments stood in their place. I wondered if the owners of these houses had been paid enough to compensate for their loss in property; property that cannot be valued in money! I pictured an old couple having to move out of their ancestral home – a real estate dealer conning the poor couple (whose children had left the country for higher studies and not bothered to look back ever since) and gorging the land for a throw away price – the oldies falling prey to yet another land mafia trick! A scary thought! To take my mind off the unpleasant thoughts, I turned to something light – fashion! In the ladies compartment I get to see all kinds of women and I try and map their personality to their fashion sensibilities. In this regard, today was an especially fruitful day in office. Women from all walks of life throng into the second class ladies compartment – old women who could barely walk ( beats me how they manage to get into and out of the train in the 8 seconds that it halts);  god-fearing , Gayatri Mantra-chanting middle-aged ladies; pretty adolescent lissom lasses trying to attract their male counter-parts; school children who cannot think beyond their class tests and summer vacations after their final exams; and the occasional boy child who is either too small to get into the general compartment or who doesn’t mind chugging along the side of his mother and getting preferred over his sister for the coveted seat! All sections of women have one over-riding similarity – their love for being fashionable! Residing in the ‘Milan of India’, you cannot help but pay more attention to your bulging tummy, the chipped off nail or the unwaxed hand. A bad hair day sets off the alarm on mood swings and what follows is nothing less than a disaster! I was no exception. If I had it my way, I would make Linking Road my home! For all I know, I loved to match my ear-rings and chappals to my clothes since the time I can remember! Not many actually know that beneath the Van-Heusen clad, Blackberry wielding corporate chick, there resides a simple girl. A girl who is the so-called “brand ambassador of nerds” – not me! A girl who would prefer to stay back home than enjoy a rare evening with bosom pals – not me! A girl who is extremely ambitious and who would give up family life for a great professional career – not me! However, sadly enough, I have become all these and more, not by choice but by the imposition of circumstances. I have always been the “expect the unexpected” child! A child prodigy of sorts. Dabbled with everything that I was introduced to – everything that I loved and everything I was made to love. But of late nothing seemed to be working. The perception people have of me is completely contrary to what I am. And all I am doing now is trying to live up to the false impression I have created unknowingly. SCARED! Scared that I won’t fit in; fit in the world that has glorified this pseudo image. Scared that if I start taking things lightly, I may not get the same affection and adulation. Scared that what I really am beneath the superficial shield, may not be as enchanting and mesmerizing as I am now. It is a constant struggle to do the right things and say the right things. Pretend in the job interview; Pretend while at the job; Pretend to get out of the job; Pretend to like the boss’ tie or his wife’s clutch or his child’s diaper! Pretension has become the way of life. Boot-licking lets you bond with the ‘people who matter’. After all they are the ones who do your appraisal. So I too play along like a gazillion others, only to save my job and get that slight edge over the others. Ethics? Out of the window! Survival of the smartest and smoothest talker! Is this how I pictured my life when I was a small child? Certainly not!  Will it be this way a few years from now? I can’t say!

Oh I am straying off! Yeah so this compartment filled with ladies. After a while into the journey, a girl in her early 20s boarded the train. She had with her an exceptionally large bag. In a few seconds, out came the hanger – a very ingenious one at that. It had ropes tied to it and clips of various hues hanging from the ropes. It was a very pretty sight! My fellow companions looked on with excitement. They were eager to showcase their bargaining skills while adding a few more trinkets to their collection, early in the morning. However, the girl seemed very stern and in no mood to entertain bargainers. She could give my boss a run for his money when it came to business dealings! The train slowed down at one of the intermediate stations. The desperate women paid the money and started fiddling with their purchase – their victorious smiles giving away what they thought – “arrey yaar koi nahin!! It would have cost twice as much in the bangle store on Colaba Causeway”. A few got down in the station; the train picked up speed in one swift motion. A sudden gush of wind threw us back. I glanced across to see the girl’s dupatta slipping away from her face by the wind. That was when I saw the nasty gash that had disfigured her right cheek! It was horrifying to say the least. Noticing that I had my eyes transfixed on her scar, she quickly pulled her dupatta back to cover it. She had caught me off-guard! I gave her an awkward smile. She reciprocated. Just to start a conversation, I asked her to display what she had got. She came closer and began showing me all that she had and quoted the prices of a few. I quickly picked up a few and paid the money. Before she could leave I asked her name. “Deepa” she replied curtly. She was in a hurry to catch another train and change business base. But I called her again. Gave her a 100-rupee note and egged her to stay on. She obliged but looked at me with cautious eyes. I told her to relax and assured her that I wanted no kidney from her. Just a casual chat. She then looked visibly a lot less tensed. I started off by asking about her family, her education and the like. I discovered that she was the only child of her single mother. Her father had deserted them long before she learned to walk and talk. Since her mother could not earn much, Deepa had to drop out of school after studying for just two years. Ever since, she had to take to earning a livelihood for her family of two. Barely into her teens, she was married off. Before she knew she had two kids. All this even before she was of a legally marriageable age! I was curious to know how she manages the profit, loss, savings, expenditure, investment and all the monetary affairs with just second standard knowledge! She smiled and said you tend to learn the tricks of the trade once you take the plunge. I asked her “are you happy with what you are doing? Is this what you wanted for yourself?” She said “happy? You really think I would continue doing this if I knew something else? I would love to earn more and stay in a comfortable house. Madam, I earn peanuts for the effort I put in. I work hard to make ends meet. I don’t want my children to suffer like me. I want good education for them. But I do not earn so much to pay for a school. I just buy books for them and ask the kids in our locality to teach them in their free time. The tuition teachers ask for too much money. I cannot afford.” I could only nod my head. After an awkward pause, I channelled the conversation to the point that started it all. “How did that happen?” I asked pointing at her scar. She looked away. Then as if deciding to take me into her confidence, she began her tale - “my mother wanted to get rid of the burden and got me married to her mama’s last son. She had taken their help during rough times. This was her way of re-paying them. She had no clue what the groom did for a living. But was happy to send me to their place. As always, I had no say and had to go with the terms dictated by destiny and married him. He gave me standing instructions on the very first night, not to question him on anything - what he did? Why he would be away for days together? How he got the money? – Nothing! Well, initially I honoured his words and refrained from asking anything that would cause a rift between us. It was only after having the children that I felt his need more. Gradually I began questioning his deeds. Sometimes he would act wild, sometimes he would keep shut. But one evening, I chanced upon a photo of a child in his cupboard. When I kept pressing him to tell me who it was and what the photo was doing in his cupboard, it led to a heated argument. He pulled out his butcher’s knife from his pant and slashed it across my face! I was too scared to say anything. I did not want the mad man to hurt my children. I kept quiet. Later that evening I saw the child’s photo in the newspaper. I asked the tuition teacher to read out the article to me. She said the child had been kidnapped and since the parents failed to pay the ransom amount, he had been brutally murdered and chopped to pieces and delivered in a suitcase. The police thought this was another murder case that was similar to many of the “suitcase cases”. My mind began racing. I did not know what to do. I just grabbed my two kids and fled the place, took the train that came first and that is how I reached Mumbai. Now I am all on my own. I have left the past behind me now. I am a lot happier than I was in Bihar because my children are safe. I wish for nothing more” I hardly had any time to reflect on what she had just revealed to me that the train screeched to a halt at CST. She gave a final smile, thanked me and said that she would buy clothes and sweets for her kids with the money I gave her and left silently. I was so amazed by the woman’s strength that I found it hard to collect myself and get going. There I was, whimpering and sulking about things that seemed infinitesimally small in front of what I had just seen and heard. She was called “Deepa” – something that signifies the beauty of enlightenment! But this Deepa had torched her wants, burnt her desires and set ablaze all her wishes. The only thing that kept her going was her love for her children. My presentation, promotion, loan repayment, board meetings – all looked very silly in front of this woman’s spirit for life. She had left her past far behind but I could see that it still haunts her. She had been scarred for life! I do not know what happened of her mother after she left her city for good. But I do know that no mother would wish ill for her offspring and the mother would ultimately understand the reason for her desperate measure. Deepa had been selflessly, relentlessly and silently serving her children all alone. Somehow, after all that happened, I do not feel so miserable about God beginning to slow down on his mercies and handing over the “destiny’s child” title to someone else. I thank Him for His small mercies – things and people I have gotten so used to that I failed to realize their true worth! This has been a life-changing experience for me. Something I would not forget for a long long time.

By the way, my presentation went exceptionally well. I am up for promotion and Sarthak is back! Things finally seem to be falling into place after my encounter with the ‘Scarred Fairy’. Thank you, Oh Lord, for a blessed day!

Seema

Mumbai