Unambiguously Twisted

Stars are dazzled in white light. The scene is dauntingly beauty from the outskirts of the grand old city, Delhi. There lives a girl in the ghettos near Yamuna, her name is Jhumki. Her grandparents came from Nepal to find work in the Country. She lives on the bank of the Yamuna with countless kids like her. For her, stars and the sky is a unfathomable wonder. She looks at the sky and search for the answers she can’t ask. Though she doesn’t get answers she expects but it gives her peace to ask questions.

“ Sometimes it’s not the answers we desire , but the brevity to ask questions.”

Her mother is a cleaning daily , she goes to different houses daily in Aanand and Satya Niketan. Jhumki goes with her to help. Her mother used to send her to clean a room every 2nd day. Somesh lived there. Everyday, he used to give her something (maybe a packet of biscuit or some fast food or sometime chocolate). It makes him feel good and kind about himself. He’s a guy from a small city who came here for his education. He feels pity while looking at the girl but still she does all the cleaning in the age she’s supposed to go to school and do mischievous things. Back to the square one, he’s a very sophisticated person from the childhood. He was a glassophobic kid, obviously not that kid who parents love to brag about in front of relatives. Now he’s a vociferous person who thinks about changing the world. Being adult gave his confidence, now he feels enraged about everything. He’s 18, maybe it’s his age to romanticise or he lives in a illusion. Brought up in a conservative but liberal family( I.e. typical Indian liberals), his definition of world was small, sea is infinite there is nothing beyond the water. He’s impressed by Gandhiji’s autobiography and recite his teachings.

Somesh asks Jhumki and her mother “ why does she not go to school “ ? Though he knew the answer somewhere in the corner of his heart. The girl replied “ time hi kaha milta hai bhaiya and laughed!!, her little smile made him question the world’s order. Her mother says “ school toh bade log jaata hain , hum khan , do wakt ka khana mil jae wahi kafi hai ( i.e. it’s enough to get two time food ). He nods at her answer and realises maybe Rawls suggested “ primary goods “ but not the quality of primary goods or how everyone gets primary goods. The guy has a strange habit whenever he’s in distress , he goes for a walk and all the anxiety disappears. He went for a walk that night, a thought crossed his mind “ the less learned/aware a person is in this era , the more happy he is “. But after some time he pitied the world and realised the patriarchal beliefs and their beliefs and way of life It’s the distant agony of privilege and pity. The more a person thinks , more pretentious he becomes. One day , Somesh asks Jhumki , “ what’s her dream ? She never thought about it earlier but replied after a moment of silence, “ to have my own house and keep my puppies with me “. He grinned.After some time, she asked , “ what’s your dream ? , the guy hesitated but told her “ to see my daughter growing up and seeing her doing mistakes, mischievous stuff, I wanna be a cool dad. It was a strangely uncommon at his age but it just stuck in his mind to bringing up a girl child in the patriarchal set up. Jhumki replied , but you need to marry for that, I won’t marry. She has a drunk father who left her and her mom on their own. She said , I just want me and my dogs in my world. The guy grinned again. It doesn’t stop her curiosity, she again asked , “ what type of girl you want “ ? The guy replied shyly, for now , I just crave for someone who would go on a walk with me and eat vanilla ice cream and who’s sophisticated not bourgeoisie and creepy and a bit arrogant but sympathetic to the marginalised. What do you mean by bourgeoise and creepy ? , he replied , “ in this case , creepy is sharing everything on social media I.e. what you eat, going to a restaurant for the sake of photos or snaps , bourgeoise is making fun of people, acting superficial about everything but everything is a hoax you can’t really decide when and with whom you fall in love, categorising love is like predictions bout your fate and it’s inescapably imaginanery. I just want who lives in the present not virtual world. But that’s a bit narcissistic, isn’t it ? He replied, it is, “ but it’s okay to be narcissistic as long as it’s harmless and you don’t impose it on someone”. The girl replied strongly , “ I hate them too, me and Shruti used to watch Tom and Jerry but now she is always on her phone”. Haha she laughed and said, it’s her age to do that, just because she lives her life in her own way you’re not supposed to hate her. She asked , “ have you ever met someone like that ? Her mom came and the conversation ended.

The landlord came downstairs and says “ ye dhang se safai nhi krti ( she doesn’t do it properly “ and asked her to do it properly and went to work. The landlord is a unique person, she’s a professor , her expertise is Gender Studies. Also, she’s a local Bahujan activist, she talks vehemently about marginalisation and incarceration of the Dalits , downtrodden etc. She quotes “ there’ll be churning from the roots of the society as long as there exists injustice”. Perhaps her definition of downtrodden excludes downtrodden residing on banks of the Yamuna. Maybe it’s not societal accepted activism to speak for other countrymen, activism has its limits like the cruelty. She talks about her struggle enthusiastically, how she suffered discrimination when she was studying in U.K. She brags about her charity, the girl whispered “ leave your camera at home , when you do charity “. Somesh later told her, “ camera or no camera, important part is it helps someone in need “. The girl nodded but replied, it’s more of a show off to the certain coterie of targeted people”. So much wisdom for a lil girl. The guy who himself preaches all the want of equality but only does little gets in his own dilemma of sanctimoniousness.

When she returned to her home, she sat on the bench near tree and started waiting. After an hour , a men came in the Ola taxi. He brought her an ice cream and a packet of bread , She jumped and hugged him. His name is Ram , don’t get fooled by the name , he’s a Muslim. But his being a Muslim was never a problem for her and her mother . Just like , her being a Hindu for him, perhaps religions come with economic feasibility. Poverty may make such difficult choice inescapably easy. She doesn’t have a brother but she does feel he’s her brother. There first meeting was flimsy, 2 years back she was asking for a poetry book on the roadside bookseller , she pleaded to a rich lady who stopped her car to buy some novels , perhaps she was too busy to notice her problems. Back then, she was 8 unaware of the world, slum and her manners. The guy was watching her , he bought her the ₹ 20 book and they became friends. Maybe the guy felt because he has two little sister at home . He has an ancestral loan to the local Their friendship continued. Ram lives in Delhi to provide for his family and pay loans, he works 15 hours and still find half hour to feed the dogs and meet Jhumki. Now, back to square one , they used to feed some puppies breads daily. He saw her playing with puppies and started bringing a packet of bread or some roti’s on a regular basis. One day , Ram asked her “ what’s puppies name ? , she hesitated but replied quickly, the black one is Tom and white is Jerry . She used to watch Tom & Jerry on the landlord’s house. Landlord has a daughter of around 14 years old named Shruti, she used to talk to her and watch Tom and Jerry together , though she sits on the floor all the time but she considered her a good friend. Now the girl became 16, she’s more interested in her hair, social profile not Tom & Jerry , it makes Jhumki sad to not able to enjoy. She complains, why people grow up ?

There was a church one mile from her home, she used to go there and meet a pastor Thomas George , he used to tell her stories about Himalayas , Jesus and his various expeditions. For her, he’s the most intelligent and pious person in her small world. He was a godly man but he was silent on the sexual allegations on the fellow pastors. The wisest saint is silent on the sexual harassment. The world and it’s hypocrisy. The kind saint and his ignorance lurking behind the shady wall , ignorance is a bliss to be privileged to be silent in front of injustice. Maybe he thought it’s not the right time or he’s one of the supporters of this patriarchal hierarchy. The pastor is from Kerala , he was a landlords son , he joined church in the search of salvation and after some years of reading and expeditions, he was sent to Delhi.

It was February Delhi Cold , there was communal rioting around Delhi. Politicians were adding oil to the fire. Jhumki and his mother had to go to do their work. But her mother left her home that day. She became a victim of the vigilante crowd. Heaven was fighting for her entrance. Her allegations against the world died with her. There’s a naivety in her rotten eyes . She’s with her god , only god knows how can he satisfy her. The God is absolute, the absolute is God, but which God ? Shouted the 10 year old girl. Only the wisest men can survive, blessed, the wicked luck , a wise saint , an untidy morning and a shabby future.

The landlord and his daughter is safe in her locked society , the empathetic guy returned to his village. First time in her life the girl and her mother came to know they’re a Hindu.The politicians declared revenge. The girl waited for Ram, he came and consoled her. He thought for some time and realised, he got a third sister to look after. Just at that time, the police came and arrested Ram for the conspiracy of riots. Concocted stories appeared in the media houses, the taxi guy from UP became a ISI agent trained and funded by Pakistan. She shouted , “ there’s no voiceless , there’s only deliberately silenced or the purposely unheard”. The scene was scary, even the loquacious men can turn silent. The story was “ unambiguously twisted”. The darkness has come when the light was extinguished by “ credibility gaps “.

The author’s mind filled with kamla Bhasin’s revolutionary lines ,

Ye khamosh mizaji tumhe jene nhi dugi

Is daur me jeena hai toh kohram macha do

( I.e. The reticence of yours will not let you live ,

Create a tumult if you want to endure in this age )

The next day , she was given to church by an N.G.O. The pastor with his head on her head, “ be the change you wish to see in the world child . There was a glint of sunlight in the narrow street. She gave a frozen empty smile. But the question remains :

A tumultuous heart , bleeding in secrecy

Forgot to smile in the obduracy

Craving silence and secrecy

An insufferable tragedy on the delicate wings of a bird who doesn’t know how to fly

Gasping for air and sanity

Immobilised in the prison of her undiscovered self

A star in the gloomy place ,

Glimmering while being swathed in grief

Or will she be another jewel lost in the hierarchy of religion

Seen too pretty to be seen

The stars whispered in her ears