Chapter 1

Rain

July

That evening, it was just around 5’o clock, but it looked like a moonless dark night. Patches of black clouds had already captured the whole sky. It was raining heavily. One could only have a glance at the surroundings when thunder and lightning struck intermittently. The dark, windy, cold, rainy evening generated two different reactions in the small village situated on the bank of the Rushikulya River.

For some, it was a pleasant and romantic evening, but not for everyone. It was a hard evening for the stray and abandoned animals, who had been wandering since morning in search of food.

There was a Brahmin family’s house in the middle of Brahmin Street. The house was small, old, and not-so-good looking. It needed repairing and painting. There was an electricity cut, and an earthen lamp was the only source of light in the house. Like a ray of hope in the darkness of the world.

A woman lay asleep on a mat spread on the floor, resting her head on a pillow, which was hidden under her tangled hair. A black blanket covered her from toe to shoulder, and a damp cloth was kept on her forehead. She was shivering in cold, and her body ran at a high temperature. Her 14-year-old daughter sat beside her, staring at her mother, worried and scared. A mathematics book from class ninth, a notebook, a pen, and a scale lay beside her. A white cat with black patches was lying by the girl and licking its own feet. Under the leaking ceiling was a plastic bucket two-thirds full of rainwater.

Tick tock, tick tock. The clock was ticking, and it seemed to be ticking faster than ever. The sound of the clock warned the girl that her mother needed medical attention as early as possible. The rain had taken a break in the morning. The sun appeared in the sky and the sky had become bright and clean. The puppies roamed around, along with their mother, looking out for food as usual. The girl went to her school, and her mother went to her job at the pickle company.

A few hours later, it again started raining.

Water dripped from the ceilings and flooded the classrooms. The headmaster of the school had to declare a holiday. Some kids were happy, while others were not.

The girl returned home. She ate her tiffin and then got to work on her homework.

Her mother returned home in the evening, two hours earlier than her usual time. She was drenched and was shivering. Water dripped from her hair, her eyebrows, her nose tip, her lips, her ear lobes, her chin, her elbows, and her fingers. She asked the girl for a towel as she coughed. It sounded bad.

She dried her hair with a towel and changed her sari.

The girl asked her, ‘Maa, shall I make tea for you?’

‘Not now,’ her mother said and sat down by her daughter.

‘Maa, if you drink a cup of hot tea, you will feel better.’

‘Not now, I will make it later.’

The girl got up from the chair and went on to hug her mother. Her body felt warm.

The girl touched her forehead. ‘Maa, you have a high fever.’

‘I got drenched. That’s why my body temperature is a little high.’

‘Maa, you have been coughing since last week, but you aren’t ready to go to a doctor.’

‘I have bought medicines. Why are you getting worried about my health?’

‘Maa, I will not listen to you anymore. We shall go to a good doctor tomorrow.’

Her mother smiled and said, ‘Why are you worried? I will be fine after I take my medicines.’

The girl spread a mat, put on a pillow, and told her mother to take a rest. Her mother listened to her daughter and lay on the mat. The girl spread a blanket over her mother and sat by her to do her studies.

Ten minutes later, her mother got up.

Her daughter asked, ‘Maa, what happened?’

Her mother did not say a word and walked toward the backyard.

When her mother didn’t return from the backyard for a long time, she went to the backyard and saw her mother lying there. She had vomited sputum with blood.

The girl ran to her mother and helped her back into the house. Her mother fell asleep as soon as she lay on the bed. The girl cleaned her up and then went to the kitchen and returned with water in a brass basin and a piece of cloth. She damped the cloth and put it on her mother’s forehead. She kept watching her mother’s face for a while and sat down beside her.

A few minutes later, the girl got up and walked to the folded doors that led to the portico. She opened them and looked out. It was still raining heavily. The road was flooding. The sky looked pitch dark with patches of black clouds, which indicated that it would rain even more. It would not stop in one or two hours.

She stood there staring at the sky for a few minutes. A flash of lightning struck. The sound of thunder made her heart beat faster for a second.

She closed the door, came back to her mother, and sat down beside her. She stared at her mother’s face for a moment. Her eyes looked dull and sunken. The hollows beneath her cheekbones showed her stress. Her lips looked dry and chapped. She checked her body temperature, which was still very high. She removed the cloth from her mother’s forehead, damped it again, wrung it, and spread it on her mother’s forehead. She looked at the clock. The clock again warned her that her mother needed medical attention as early as possible. Each ticking sound of the clock increased her worries for her mother.

She called her mother in a low voice, ‘Maa!’

Her mother slowly opened her eyes. ‘Give me some water.’

The girl brought a glass of water and a steel spoon from the kitchen. Her mother opened her mouth a little. The girl poured water into her mouth with the spoon. Her mother drank only three spoons of water.

The girl said, ‘Maa! I am going to fetch Baba.’

‘Where will you find him?’ Her mother asked in a sick voice.

‘I can find him.’

‘You needn’t go anywhere in this rain.’

‘Maa, if Baba comes, we will go to the hospital.’

‘I have bought some medicine. I will get well tomorrow,’ her mother said with a trembling inaudible voice.

The worried girl went to the neighbor Rita’s house. Rita was her mother’s friend. Childhood friend. Both of them were born and brought up in the same village. Both of them used to go to the same school. And, both of them got married in the same village. Their attachment was not like that of two friends but of two sisters. Like Neetu and Shaboo in the Hindi movie ‘Parvarish’.

She knocked on the door.

‘Who is it?’ A heavy voice came from inside the house.

‘Is Rita Aunt at home?’ she asked.

The husband opened the door. ‘What happened?’

‘Is Aunt at home?’

‘No.’

‘Has she not returned from work yet?’

A young boy’s voice came from inside the house. ‘Baba, Maa has gone to Grandfather’s house.’

Rita’s husband said to the girl, ‘I forgot about it already. She told me in the morning that she would go to her mother’s village.’

‘Ok uncle,’ she said and walked back home.

She picked up an umbrella and a torch and left the house to find her father. Strong winds made it difficult for her little hands to hold onto the umbrella. The street was flooded ankle-deep. Doors and windows of houses were closed. Not a single man or a woman could be seen. Neither a stray dog nor a cow wandered on the road. She was all alone. She carried on walking.

She walked past Rita’s house.

Past Rita’s sister-in-law’s house.

Past Ex-Sarapanch’s house.

Past the goldsmith’s house.

Past the confectioner’s house.

Past the milkman’s house.

Past some Brahmin families’ houses.

Past the distiller’s house.

Past the big well.

Past tall coconut trees.

Past a bullock cart.

There was a huge peepal tree at the end of the street, which had a concrete paver around it. She stopped there for a moment and then took a left turn as she walked towards the Shiv temple. It was a very old temple surrounded by a big compound wall and an entrance gate. There grew a big neem tree, a myrobalan tree, and some bushy holy basil. People of this village still believed in the legend that Lord Ram and his brother, Laxman, had stayed in this temple during their journey to Demon Ravan’s Lanka, now called Sri Lanka.

The girl entered the temple. She found no one inside except an old bearded man. He was the priest of the temple. He was wearing a dhoti and had a towel on his right shoulder. A garland of rudraksha was wrapped around his neck. He had painted his forehead with sandalwood paste. He was sitting in the lotus position in his room and reading Shiv Purana in the glow of an earthen oil lamp. A big turtle was loitering around in the room. Its hard shell also had been painted with sandalwood paste and sindoor (vermilion powder).

The girl knocked on the door. The priest didn’t move. The girl didn’t knock again as she realized that the priest was busy reading.

When the priest finally turned towards her, she said to him, ‘I have come here to find my baba. Have you seen...