‘Kareemo came to draw water at daybreak. I begged her for a drink of water, but she filled her clay
ghara
pot and went away. Baqar’s mother came quietly after some time, and threw this kameez on me. She’d brought some water with her in her lota. She lifted my head and poured some water into my mouth through the spout. I don’t care if anyone thinks I lost my religion and faith. You can’t lose it when you’re not conscious. The poor woman also whispered into my ear, “Don’t tell any one.” My bonds were cutting into my flesh. I was crying and groaning constantly. Other women too came to fetch water, but not one even spared me a glance. Their hearts had turned to stone. They all used to come to our homes for festivities and for syapas, we always helped each other. And now such a change of heart!
‘When the sun had risen, the man with the pointed moustache came, the same one who brought you here yesterday, he brings tandoori rotis for us too. The scoundrel brought nothing to eat yesterday. That other old slut didn’t show up yesterday either. The same man arrived and untied my hands and feet. My circulation had been cut off, and I couldn’t move them. And how could I cover myself? He grabbed my arm and pulled me up, but I couldn’t stand on my feet. Satto was lying dead, with her clothes wet and covered in mud, next to the chabutara around the well. Her stomach was
bloated. I began to crawl towards the well to escape that scoundrel. What else could anybody do, bahina? He pushed me to the ground and swore at me, saying, “All these Hindanis know is how to jump into the well.” He growled at me to put on my kameez. I barely managed to, so he pushed my arms into it. I could hardly move my limbs. He was dragging me away, but I couldn’t even keep steady on my feet. When I couldn’t walk, he carried me for a while by hoisting me onto his shoulder, then got an ekka carriage and tossed me into it, and brought me here. I’ve been here since then.’ Banti felt her stomach gingerly, ‘My insides are hurt so badly I can’t tell you. I’m hardly able to walk straight.’ She started weeping again.
While Banti was talking, the rickety pump had been squeaking in the background. The woman wearing only a shalwar had taken it off and handed it to the woman in shalwar and kameez. While one pumped water, the other washed herself. While scrubbing her body the woman also chanted some prayer. After her bath, the shalwar-only woman too came and squatted near Tara, Banti and Satwant.
The woman in the shalwar said, ‘Why should I tell any lies? The Muslims of our Noorcote village really helped us. Only three houses belonged to Hindus. When the Muslims from Siddhawali tried to provoke our villagers to attack us, those good people quietly brought us on ekkas to the Pamba station at night. Our train was attacked after it reached Kamoki station. What happened to the others, I have no idea. They pulled me out of the carriage. My ten-month-old son slipped from my lap. What became of him, no one knows.’ she began to weep bitterly.
She said again after a few moments, through the tears streaming down her face, ‘Who knows how many girls and women were kidnapped and taken away in ekkas? Who knows where they were taken? What they did to me, I lost count of that after ten or fifteen times. May God infest my attackers’ bodies with worms. I didn’t think I’d live, but I came through it somehow. And no one thought of giving me a mouthful of food. Who doesn’t get hungry, bahina? I was dying of hunger and my breasts were aching with milk, and they kept abusing my body …’ she sobbed uncontrollably.
Satwant said to the woman wearing only a shalwar, ‘Durga, help Amaro wash herself.’
‘I told her, have a bath. “Not now,” she said,’ Durga suppressed her sobs as she replied. ‘She has a fever.’
Satwant said with concern, ‘Yes, it’s better if she doesn’t. Her body did
feel hot. She’s the daughter-in-law of the Sodhis from our village. Don’t know what’s been done to her. They took me away from the station. I saw her next two days ago when she was brought here. Hasn’t said a word till now. Poor thing’s had bad luck. Since she’s come, we’ve had nothing to eat. Indeed she’s unlucky. Comes from a poor farmer’s family. The Sodhis married her only because of her good looks, but her luck didn’t change. It was her five-month-old son those butchers at the station first threw on the ground and killed in front of us. I had hidden my Mihinder behind the boxes.’
Sunlight covered the top half of the wall on the left. Banti said again to Tara, ‘Get up now. Come on, I’ll work the pump for you. Have a bath. You’re not the only one who’s suffering.’ She pointed to the sky, ‘He who damned us to this hell, the same Almighty One will get us out. He answered Draupadi’s call for help; He’ll listen to ours too. His power is great. Have a wash and a mouthful to eat. I have half of a roti. Wonder when did you last have anything to eat? That scoundrel didn’t get us anything to eat yesterday. Let’s see if God sends us anything today or not. You have got any scraps left?’ Banti said, looking at Satwant.
‘Hai, I’ve nothing left. I saved half a roti, but I ate it last night,’ replied Satwant.
‘Go on, you liar!’ Durga protested, ‘I saw you taking three rotis from the pile. I know where you hid what was left over. Don’t share if you don’t want to.’
‘You’re a liar! I don’t have anything,’ Satwant retorted angrily.
‘Anybody who hides food eats her own children,’ Durga shouted angrily.
Ignoring their quarrel, Banti stood up, using Tara’s shoulder as a prop, ‘Come, have a wash.’
Three women had taken baths in the nude right in front of Tara. She felt shy about taking off her clothes, but prudishness at this time would have been an insult to the others.
Crouching down, she took off her shalwar shyly and put it on the ground. Banti took the shalwar and tucked it under her arm, saying, “You probably don’t know it, but this caused the whole argument. That awful Lakkhi can’t be trusted. When Durga was having a wash, she stole her kameez. It got ripped to pieces when they both fought over it. She was brought here totally naked. She neither talks to us, nor sits with us. Mostly stays
inside the room. Always on the lookout to steal a garment when someone takes it off.’
Durga said, ‘She seems to have a screw loose. She just lies there babbling, “I’m not the only one … all of them, everyone!” Sometimes raves on, “I’m dead … everyone’s dead.” Don’t know what her village or town is. Talks like somebody from a city, from Gujranwala or Wazirabad area.’
Tara took off her kameez sitting under the pump. Her hesitation had attracted Satwant’s attention. Pointing to Tara’s brassiere, Satwant said, ‘Hai, look at this city woman. Look, look how they tie up their bodies to shape them. Just like a nosebag over a calf’s snout! These new fashions! How they push the tits up and thrust them forward. A curse on such women! They haven’t a shred of shame or modesty in them!’
‘Why are you turning up your nose? What’s it to you what anybody wears or does? Everyone to his own customs,’ Banti scolded her.
Tara, her head bent, kept silent.
After Tara had her bath, Banti broke a stale, dry tandoori roti in two and handed her a piece. Satwant came with two small pieces concealed in her hand. She gave them to Tara, and said, ‘That’s all I have, I swear by Waheguru. O Divine Protector, don’t let us poor creatures starve.’
Tara did not feel like eating that dry, hard piece of bread. ‘No, I’m not hungry,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Why not hungry?’ Banti reproached her lovingly. ‘Eat up or you’ll feel worse.’
‘Isn’t she picky! Does this city woman expect Waheguru to send paranthas made with ghee for her?’ Satwant said sarcastically.
On Banti’s insistence, Tara agreed, ‘I’ll eat a bit later.’ She just took some water.
‘The door chain is rattling,’ Durga cried out in alarm. The women quickly moved inside the rooms. They waited for several minutes, but the door did not open.
Satwant said, ‘She hears noises all the time. Who’s likely to come in this blazing sunshine? The old slut always turns up with rotis in the late afternoon. That butcher brought food both times before midday.’
Banti said, ‘When he brought me here, there were three other girls beside Lakkhi. Two days later, he came early one morning with two other men and took away those three. Only Maharajji knows what’ll become of us. This
sirsara
cursed man is bound to sell us to someone.’
‘Yes, what else? But if someone takes us in, at least it’ll save us from being ruined and treated like garbage as before,’ Satwant said gloomily.
Holding her head in her hands, Banti said, ‘Who knows what Maharaj wanted to happen when He didn’t let me die? He works in mysterious ways. He must have intended something else for me. Only He, who came out from the red-hot iron pillar to save Prahlad can save us too. If that brute sells me off to someone, I might decide to cut my throat with a sickle.’ She sat quietly, clasping her head.
‘The door chain
has
been opened,’ it was Satwant’s turn to cry out in alarm.
The thick, solid entrance door opened with a groan, then came the sound of it being shut again and a hoarse, rough voice said, ‘Here I am, daughters! What could I do?’
An old woman walked into the view of those in the room. Her face was heavily wrinkled and she had henna-dyed hair. She carried on her head something bundled up in her dirty dupatta. She went on, ‘He took the key from me two days ago and gave it back to me only today. I felt bad thinking that you girls would be starving.’
She placed the bundle on the floor. Opening it, she said, ‘May Allah be kind to everyone and let no one go hungry. Today I had some salt added to the rotis.’
Satwant bent over the bundle. It had large, freshly made rotis baked in a tandoor. She picked up four.
The old woman rambled on, ‘If it were up to me, I’d bring daal and vegetables for you all, but that heartless man doesn’t want to pay for it. What do I have left now? Sometimes three, sometimes four girls used to stay with me. I used to feed them milk and ghee,
malai
and other good things. I’d do all that for you too if only I could.’
‘Why did you take four? Are you the only one who’s feeling hungry?’ Banti asked Satwant.
‘Yes, yes. Divide them equally, daughters. There are five of you, so I brought three for each. If these aren’t enough, I’ll bring a couple more. Who matters more, you or the bread? But what can I do? That bastard won’t pay up,’ the old women lamented.
‘There are six of us,’ Banti said to the old woman, and to Satwant, ‘Divide them up equally among all of us.’
The old woman looked at Tara, ‘Another one’s arrived? May Allah protect
her,
sadake
, welcome. But rotis are not more important than you girls,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow I’ll bring three more.’
Banti said to Tara after the woman left, ‘You’re lucky. The rotis arrived just after you did.’
The brick floor had become quite hot by the noon hour. The women moved into the rooms that were still in the shade. They were chatting about various things when Satwant asked Tara, ‘Bahin, have you any children?’
Tara shook her head.
‘Haven’t had any?’
‘Hai, why? How many years since you got married?’ Durga said in surprise.
Tara hesitated before answering, ‘I’m not married.’
Satwant covered her left eye with her hand and looked distrustfully at Tara with her right, and asked, ‘Hai, at your age? You city folk surely have such strange ways.’
‘I was a college student,’ Tara said, by way of explanation.
Durga held her fingers to her lips in amazement, and asked, ‘What? You mean that big madrasa school?’
Tara nodded.
‘So you learned English, Shastri Hindi, Farsi, all three lingos?’ Durga asked.
When Tara said yes, the women stared at her with respect and some awe.
Durga began to repeat what she had already mentioned many times, that her baby girl had just cut her first two teeth. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as she described how the child had become sick from teething. She had not finished when Satwant began to tell how her son insisted on sitting on the horse with his father. That once he was injured when he fell off, and a lump had come up on his forehead. How she had to stay up several nights, holding him in her lap.
Banti too began to talk about her son, ‘He was very fond of his grandmother, but always slept with me in my bed. I was always late, finishing the chores, cleaning up the kitchen, preparing milk for yogurt, but he would wait for me to put him to bed…’
She wiped her eyes, and continued, ‘Maharajji gave me my first one a year and a quarter after my marriage, but took back that child after ten months. Maharaj did not show his mercy for the next five years. There was
nothing wrong with me, but my mother-in-law was worried that someone in the family might have cast some evil spell. She took me to the Baba of Dipalpur. The Baba prophesied that I’d have a child within a year. And you know what? My Kewal was born after ten months.’
From talking about her son she went on to talk about her other misfortunes, ‘When we heard about Hindus fleeing Dabboki, my mother-in-law put all our jewellery, mine and my sister-in-law’s—the poor thing had died three years ago—in a brass
gagar
, all seventy tolas of gold, and buried it in the inside room of the house. We also had at least six or seven seers of silver ornaments, that our employees had left as collateral, locked up in heavy chests. The thugs must have stolen all that. Probably found the gold too! Who knows! Kewal’s father and his elder brother had made a wad of a hundred and ten rupee banknotes, and a few of smaller value. Three thousand old silver coins, the ones with the Empress’s face on them, those too were in those chests …’
It grew hotter in the afternoon. Durga yawned, and went to sleep in a side room. Amaro lay motionless as before, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Banti and Satwant first lolled about on the floor then began to doze. Tara too stretched out. She closed her eyes, but could not sleep. The women’s ramblings had kept her from thinking about her own situation. Now she began to give it serious thought. Her desire for freedom had brought her out of the frying pan into the fire. The captivity at Hafizji’s now seemed like a safe haven, when compared to this hellish aangan. Now she didn’t even know where she was.