Bharati

"Amma, I can't come today..." said Bharati standing behind the door in the veranda. My mom just nodded her head and got up to go into the kitchen - "Everyday it's some story or the other" muttered my mom under her breath.

I sat there in a cane chair sipping my coffee and watching the whole thing. Bharati turned and walked slowly towards the gate - I saw her wipe a tear with her torn saree.

I followed my mom to the kitchen and asked her - "Mumma, why are you so harsh with her?" And before I completed my sentence, mumma said "What do you want me to do? Everyday she has a story for not coming to work. I pay her a salary for work, and she has no commitment. You tell me for how long do I have to tolerate this?" I was silent. I had no answer for this side of the argument either.

The next three days passed by and there was no sign of Bharati. My mom tried to reach her through others who knew her, but to no avail.

At around noon on the fourth day, I went to the nearby store to pick up a loaf of bread, and while I waited at the counter to pay I saw a little girl playing with a bunch of boys. I recognized the shy smile - she was Bharati's daughter! The little girl had no care in the world - she kept wiping her runny nose and continued to chase her brother and the other lads. "Hey, where is your mom?" I stopped the girl and asked her. She just pointed in the direction of a house only to resume her chase.
I followed the road in that direction and entered a small alley that ended at a doorway.

The whole wall was painted a weird green - with a million drawings on the threshold and the ground in the front. I knocked on the half open door very hesitantly. What was I even doing here I thought. There was no response. I knocked again. There was a small faint voice - "who is that?" I replied - "This is me. Anita". There was a silence.I softly opened the door. Then I saw the dimly lit room, and was shocked to see Bharati lying on the cot. She looked like a shadow of herself. All curled up and wearing an even older, torn saree. She just seemed to have faded away in the last three days. Her eyes were puffy and red. They told stories of her own. Was there a doubt that she had been crying and that too without a break?

The room had a musty smell. Something very stale about it. Bharati sat up on the edge of the broken cot, and tried to regain her composure. She was silent for a few minutes and then looked up. Her eyes were full of questions. They were questioning my presence there. I didn't know what explanation to give. All I said was "I was just passing by and found your daughter so.... But, anyway mumma has been looking for you for three days now. Where were you?" There was no reply. She had bent her head low. In a soft voice I asked "Are you okay?".

All that happened after those few initial questions will always always remain in my heart and I will carry it with me for the rest of my life, in a very special way.

She started to sob softly. She stuffed one end of her blue saree into her mouth and sobbed. The sobs racked her being. It felt as if her heart would break open and her tears seemed not to do justice to what she felt right at that moment.

I was a little taken aback. I then looked around the room for something to sit on. It was a very tiny room, and at one corner was a stove and some vessels, indicating that it was used as a kitchen. At the far end was a small area that had a tap and a drain, indicating that it was a bathroom. Lastly, I saw a small shelf that had some pictures of Gods I did not even recognize. I found a small stool and I dragged it close to where Bharati sat.

I waited for her to get a gasp of air and when I thought there seemed to be some space in her sobs I asked her "Bharati, what is wrong?" She resumed her sobs. I coaxed again and she was silent. Then she said "Anita Didi (meaning older sister), I don't know what to do..." I again repeated my question.

Bharati's husband Bhushan worked as a watchman in a chemical factory nearby. And the factory was owned by the Singh family. Bhushan did not have a very reputable character to flaunt either - he was an alcoholic, who believed in torturing his wife in every possible uneducated manner. And they had two children from their terrible marriage, which was held on the last thread solely due to Bharati's efforts for the sake of the children. This, Bhushan always mistook for her helplessness and abused her even further.

I gathered all this information in bits and pieces in between sobs and gaps of silence. I waited for her to resume talking....patiently.I have to be honest that I felt waves of impatience and irritation, but those eyes kept me glued to the spot where I sat...

She then asked me a question I didn't have an answer to - "Didi, is it wrong to be bound to your morals? Just because I'm poor, am I not allowed to have a character?"

I looked at her perplexed, and she further went on to explain the situation to me...

Mr.Singh apparently had taken a fancy to Bharati, who in spite of bearing two kids looked half her age. Her smile and good humor made her a pleasant person in better times than this. On this one occasion when Mr.Singh's wife was away on a trip abroad to attend her sister's son's wedding for a couple months, Mr.Singh had found a lot of ways to bring Bharati to his house when he was alone. And on one afternoon last week, he had crossed all the limits and had held her hand while she handed him a cup of coffee. She was dumb founded and was too scared to say anything. This, he took as an encouragement and let his hands wander over her body - to places where the only man allowed was her wedded husband. She was shell shocked and silent. But after about a couple of minutes, Bharati felt a surge of anger rise through her, and with a force known to only a woman pushed against a corner, pushed him away with all her might.

He stepped back, and looked at her with a surprised look. "Are you out of your mind? what do you think you are doing?" He asked with scorn and arrogance. There was a silence followed by Bhaarti crying in a corner near the sink. "Sir, please don't tell any of this to my husband" She sobbed. He mocked and laughed "And why shouldn't I?" Bharati realized that Mr.Singh's level of decency was way below than her expectation. She mustered her courage and said "Sirji, I don't want to do all this - I just want the salary to raise my kids. Please leave me alone".

He laughed again "Yeah right - you know what? I'll give you a deal. Go back home today, and come back to me after five days. And after that one time I'll never ever bother you - I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone.I'll also make sure you are compensated enough for this. think about it. don't be fool..now go.."

Bharati had run home as fast as her legs could carry her...

And here she was - in front of me with a day left from her five days before she went back to him with an answer.

Bharati found her voice again and asked me "Didi, you tell me - what is the right thing to do. I don't want to do any of this, but I'm helpless too. Why can't the world just let me be..."

Was this woman's character less worthy just because she was poor, helpless and had the odds against her? But, when I thought again - what did she lose anyway if she went the other way - her marriage was on the rocks anyway. So, what did her morality leave her with?

I looked out of the tiny peep hole carved in the wall in place of a window...and felt warm tears course my cheeks.

Anita, I said to myself - haven't you run away from half the way around the globe just for the same reason?

Me - I had run away from where I lived and my work and my life. All because Mr.Shah the owner of my startup wanted to have some fun with me - he wanted to losen me up in his own words. The jerk! After all that I had done for him - I had stayed at the hospital when his wife mis-carried, let her cry on my shoulders when she was depressed, cooked for them when they didn't want to eat - and all that he had gathered from it was that I wanted to roll in the hay with him. He had missed the point completely somehow. I was angry, frustrated, and humiliated.

For what? I didn't know - probably because I was mis-judged and thought of as an easy ride - it hurt me to even think that I was easy....So, I left....far away.

Our lives were similar - sisters at heart. weren't we? The disparity in our worlds did not seem to matter...

I didn't have a solution for me - who was I to help Bharati? I walked out of the green house silently...

After a hundred steps or so, I stopped in my tracks - something clicked inside me. I turned around and came back into the green house.

I took Bharati's hands into my own and pulled her to her feet...