The Murky Girl – 4
A mile far in the meadows was a man lying on his stomach. Streams of blood were flowing at hand. A group of 6 ladies advanced closer to the anonymous man and were wondering, “Where is this man from? How did he fall and Why was he in such a hurry? “. The eldest of them all approached close to the corpse and checked for the pulse of the man. “He is dead, let’s go back and inform Chandrika about this. The rest 5 white slaves nodded and gave their consents on returning back. They turned their backs when the eldest one, Deepali shouted, “Look there is a baby, crushed by this middle age man”. The others turned back in astonishment and helped Deepali in rescuing the child. The child was covered with blood and appeared lifeless. She checked for her heartbeat. All she could hear was a deep resilience. The deceased heart was beating but with very obscure lub-dub.
They rushed the child to Mother of the brothel Chandrika and asked her to save the child. Chandrika, aged around 50, dressed in the most elegant outfit, a red bindi on her forehead, hair tangled in a bun, heavy eyelashes and dark lipstick on her succulent lips, gazed the almost dead girl in Deepali’s lap. “Call the Vaid, she has to be saved at any cost. She will be a gleam of this brothel”. With the end of her words, a Vaid was called upon and an Ayurveda treatment was given to the girl. Deepali took care of her as if she was her real mother.
For 7 days, the girl was in the supervision of the physicians, the Vaids. Deepali used to spend sleepless nights with child, feeding her with her own milk. The love and compassion for the child turned Deepali into an ardent mother. She never left the girl unattended. Chandrika and the brothel withholding some 300 women were observant of Deepali’s love for the girl. Therefore, a meeting was called upon by the crowned head of the Brothel. All the white slaves were invited to attend the meeting. The inquisitiveness about the Mother Chandrika’s verdict in the meeting was at peak.
The assembly was huge and the incarnation of Mother God, Devi Chandrika sat on the beautifully decorated chair. 600 eyes were awaiting Chandrika’s verdict, for they knew there must be something very serious for which such a huge gathering was invited. Chandrika held the girl in her lap and raised her finger to address the gathering. In a loud and clear voice, she spoke, “It’s been 8 days we have been taking care of this unknown girl. I have seen Deepali’s affection for her. Therefore, I have made a decision in the common good of all my daughters. Deepali skipped a breath. She was scared if Chandrika would rob her of her new daughter or ask the guards to suspend the girl out of the brothel. The assembly was echoing with the vague murmur of the ladies gathered. “Silence, Listen to me”, roared Chandrika. “I pronounce Deepali, the legal mother of the this anonymous girl and I welcome the child to our family”, Chandrika uttered with a smile.
A great sigh of relief prevailed and the child was given the name “Avant”. A breeze of happiness prevailed around and Deepali made all the plans to take the best care of the child. That day the assembly was suspended and Deepali thanked Chandrika in seclusion. Deepali told Chandrika, “She almost scared her and she almost believed it that Chandrika would throw Deepali out of the brothel.”
Chandrika patted on her back and smiled. Deepali was quite confused at this juncture. She had never seen that arduous smile on Chandrika’s face. It appeared as if her future plans were not very convincing for Avant. A constant fear of losing Avant laid it’s foundation inside Deepali on that very night.
With the advent of time, Avant grew upto be a 5-year-old girl, pampered by all the white slaves of the brothel. Chandrika used to give her some live sessions every two hours in the evening which were never shared by any other inhabitant of the brothel. Avant playing around with the ladies and teasing her mother invoked a different lifestyle in the brothel. Ecstasy prevailed in every corner. Watching her grow, each lady of the brothel, young or old, felt as if they are living their childhood again.
When one fine day, an Englishman stepped into the Brothel, with a black brief-case in hand and the happiness turned into a weird gloominess.