The Ragpicker

A long day in office normally leaves me cranky and short fused. I decided to have a fag nevertheless on my way home, even though it was pretty close to 9:00 PM in the night. As I lit up the fag and enjoyed a drag, I noticed a shabbily dressed old man standing near the shop counter. The man was fidgety and had the looks of poverty having made a permanent hovel over his destiny. The shirt he was wearing was definitely a hand me down, which had seen a lot of hands in its life time. The lungi he was wearing was tattered and probably had not been washed for a long time for fear of it turning into tatters.

The shop is run by a middle aged woman, who has a permanent constipated smirk on her face. She is rude to a fault and never smiles. But hers is the only shop on the road and therefore there is always a constant flow of customers to her small shop. I have been going to her shop every day for the past 2 years, and she never shows any signs of recognizing me. Though it does not bother me that she does not remember me, but it sure feels irritating when she asks me "Which brand of cigarette, saaar?" I mean, I go to the shop every evening after office to smoke a fag and yet she does not remember the brand I smoke.

Now coming back to the present, the old man kept standing near the store front while the store lady ignored him and I took a drag from my cigarette. The old man was looking intently at the various tall glass jars which held different candy and sweet meats. Finally after contemplating a little, the old man pointed a bonny finger to a rectangular plastic container. The container had several chocolate bars belonging to the Nestle brand. The shop lady had an incredulous look on her face as if to suggest, "Are you mad old man, pointing fingers at the most expensive chocolates in my shop." The shop lady ignored the old man for a couple of minutes.

But the old man stood there patiently pointing at the rectangular plastic container. Finally the shop lady stood up and shouted in coarse Tamil at the old man. Now I have been living in Chennai for nearly 4 years now, so I can understand a smattering of Tamil. The shop lady was shouting at the old man, that he would not be able to afford the Nestle chocolates even if he sold his skin. Many more such colorful profanities spilled out from her mouth. The old

man stood unflinching there. This seemed to cause the shop lady to lose her temper further. She raised her voice to a decibel ten notches higher and shouted, "Get out of my shop beggar."

The last insult shook the old man out of his reverie. The weather-beaten man unclenched his fist and there lay several coins in his palm. The shop lady immediately cut short the ranting and ravings she had been subjecting the old man till now and stood quietly. The old man showed one finger and asked in a weak voice, "Yevelo" which in Tamil means, "How much"? The shop ladies voice carried a hint of sarcasm as she said the cost of one chocolate was Rupees Thirty.

The shop lady expected the old man to shudder at the mention of price and hence the sarcasm in her tone when she spat out the price. I would be lying if I say I too was not expecting the old man to quietly go away with downcast eyes of a defeated man after hearing the price. However the old man did not betray any emotion and stood his ground. The cataract in his old eyes made it difficult for the old man to differentiate the one rupee from the two rupee coins. Nevertheless after much fumbling and bringing each coin near his eyes more than once, the old man successfully counted out thirty bucks and kept them on top of the rectangular container which held the treasured Nestle chocolates.

The shop lady was taken aback on seeing the small pile of coins and even though she had perfectly good eyes, she took longer to count the coins than had the old man. Perhaps, she was making sure each of the coins had the Sarnath Lions engraved on them properly. After making sure she had her money, she opened the container took out a single thin slab of Nestle Cadbury chocolate.

The old man accepted the precious cargo from the shop lady and ran his fingers over the shiny plastic covering of the chocolate. As I stood there, I could see the old man finally betraying his emotions as a thin smile broke upon his old tired face revealing several missing teeth. The smile lines around the corners of the mouth less prominent than the many wrinkles which crisscrossed the weather-beaten leathery face. The old man saw me looking at him blankly. There was a slight nod of his head towards me as he shuffled across the store front out of the shop.

Just as the old man walked out of the shop dragging his tired feet along, the rain God decided to provide some background effect to this setting by opening the heavenly flood gates. As often happens in India, the electricity gets cut off as soon as it starts raining, plunging the road and the shop into darkness. The road was deserted and the old man could have easily walked back into the shop if he wanted. But the man picked up his rag pickers torn and mended jute gunny sack and slowly walked across the street melting into the darkness.

I was waiting for the unseasonal rain to stop so that I could get along on my way to my home. Just then an Audi car swerved into the street screeching aloud from its tires and lighting up the now darkened street with white light from its incredibly beautiful LED lights. As the car whizzed past, I saw the old rag picker man for the last time. There he was sitting huddled under a tree along with an equally old woman. The thin chocolate slab was broken into two and each of them had a piece in their hands as they laughed without care like two young children.

Chutki's Voice

Chutki was eldest amongst her 3 siblings but nevertheless was addressed by everyone as Chutki  (The small one). Maybe because she was a girl and all 3 of her siblings were boys or maybe destiny would ensure that she never match the greatness her brothers would no doubt achieve. No one knew the reason. Chutki lived in a small nondescript village in India with her parents and 3 other siblings.

Chutki was lucky in many ways, because she got a chance to go to school even though she was a girl. But this meant nothing to Chutki, because after doing all the household work, feeding her younger brothers, washing their clothes and grazing the old lame cow and collecting any eggs from the 2 hens her family owned, she never had the energy left to go to school. However ever day after she had completed all her work, she would set off for school. School time was the only time when Chutki got time to frolic around with her friends, Munnia and Jamunia and sometimes sneak into the Zamindars orchard to steal a raw mango. Chutki knew that someday the teacher of the school would definitely complain to her parents that she bunked school alarmingly regularly. But when did a precocious 13 year old think of consequences.

There was one person in the world that Chutki was afraid off and that was her father. Bholaram, the father of little Chutki had been a hardworking man. He used to work hard in his fields and earn just enough to support his family. But 5 years ago the rains failed and Bholaram had to leave the village in search of work. He earned money from the city but also earned a new habit in return. The habit was country rice liquor called "handia". Bholaram was never the same again after returning from the city. The "handia" like a slow poison started to sap his strength and he could no longer toil hard under the sun in his fields. Money started to dwindle like the fickle rains and his mood swings became worse. Abuse and even beatings of his wife and daughter but never his sons were the only way he could vent his emotions. His wife realizing that the only way to stop the regular beatings was a wad of notes thrust into Bholarams palms started working as a daily wager.

One day little Chutki after finishing her daily chores was getting ready for school when her mother said she would not be going to school today. Chutki threw a tantrum because Munia and Jamunia her friends had said to her yesterday that the imli tree near the village pond was bearing the sour imli pods she loved so much. All her plans of going to school nee the imli tree were now blown away. On seeing the girl sob, her mother told her that a guest of her father was going to come in the evening, so Chutki should help with cooking today and also takes a bath and dress well. Just at that time, Munia and Jamunia called from across the fields for her to join them for school. Chutki after giving a pleading look to her mother and receiving a cold stare in return knew that the imli pods would have to wait until tomorrow.

That day her father put one of the hens of the family to the blade. The whole day Chutki helped her mother cook some delectable delicacies which consisted of boiled rice and chicken curry along with sweet rice. Ohh!! the lovely smell that wafted around the house was so heartwarming. Chutki and her siblings could not wait for evening to come so that they would be able to eat.  After  completing the cooking, her mother took her to the village pond and ensured that Chutki took her bath properly. On returning home, Chutki was given an old threadbare sari to wear. Her mother put on little Chutki's forehead a little red “bindi”.

Finally the darkness of dusk fell and crickets started buzzing from the fields. The wait for the guest started now. Her father had gone to receive the guest but had not returned yet. The chicken curry had grown cold and the rice even colder, but there was no sign of her father or his guest. Little Chutki after working the whole day was sleepy. She tried very hard not to fall asleep lest her brothers gobble up all the chicken curry. But try as she might her eyelids started to droop and sleep overtook her little body.

Chutki woke up to the loud abuses of her father shouting at her mother. Her mother seemed to be wailing loudly and so were Chutki's three brothers. She tried to listen but the wails were drowning out the words. She looked out of the window and saw that it was still dark, that means the chicken curry was still there to be relished. Just as these thoughts were passing her mind, her mother entered the kitchen along with her father. Bholaram had murder in his eyes, and he pushed his wife towards Chutki and barked an order to pack some belongings and left outside. Her mother immediately started to pack some old clothes and other knick-knacks into a tattered cloth bag. The cloth bag was threadbare and so was the clothes packed into it. Suddenly Chutki realized that the bag was being packed with her meager clothes.

Chutki's teary eyed mother came up to her and said that "you are going to a new home tonight for some days, so do whatever you are asked to do, never open your mouth and do not complain no matter what". Chutki was confused, on one side, there was the excitement of travelling to a new place and on the other hand her mother's intonation told her that something was amiss here. Profanities from her father's mouth caused her mother to push Chutki out of the house hurriedly with the cloth bag.

Chutki saw his father sitting outside the house along with a very old man eating the chicken curry and other delicacies. Chutki suddenly felt very self-conscious and stared down at her own feet intently. Bholaram came up to her and pushing Chutki towards the old man, said "Go with this God like man and do all his bidding". The old man chuckled a throaty chuckle which one attains after years of smoking the "bidi" and asked Chutki to follow her.

"No No, don't walk along with me, walk 10 steps behind me," the old man said to Chutki as soon as they turned the corner of the road leading away from their village. They walked and walked but their destination was nowhere in sight. Not that Chutki was aware where the destination was. She was feeling angry at her mother because she had not been fed her dinner. Dinner always consisted of boiled rice water and today after nearly 8 months they had chicken and proper rice and she had been denied that. In order to stop thinking of the hunger pangs she tried to think of the adventures she might have at her new home. Maybe there will be more food at the new house. Maybe there will be small children in the house she will be asked to play with them. As these thoughts were fleeting past her, she heard the old man cough in front of her.

The old man after leading the way for nearly 2 hours under the night sky finally stopped and opened the gates of a big house and announced in his hoarse voice that they had reached their destination. The old man entered the house and barked at Chutki to bolt the door behind her. Chutki stood silently as the old man sat down in a chair. "What are you doing standing like a puppet, haven't you no manners. Go and get me a glass of water from the kitchen which is adjacent to this room," said the old man. Chutki ran across and came back with a glass of water. 

The old man smacked his lips after drinking down the whole glass of water. Keeping the glass down on the floor, the old man beckoned Chutki to come near. Chutki was unsure but remembered the last words from her mother about being obedient and doing whatever asked to do. She took a tentative step towards the chair. The old man reached out the rest of the way and dragged her towards the chair. His grip on her hand was tight but what scared Chutki was not the grip but the stare. The old man seemed to be seeing right through her. "Let me see what I have got for myself, now turnaround girl," said the old man. Chutki did as commanded and stood silently feeling uneasy.

The old man then let go of her hands and asked her name. "Chutki" replied Chutki. The man rose and went to a different room but soon returned with some old faded dresses. "You can take a bath tomorrow and then throw away that rag you are wearing. Wear these clothes which belong to my granddaughter who left them here when she had come last year," said the old man. Chutki took the offerings silently. Mustering up her courage, Chutki asked, "Babu, what work will I do for you in this big house." The old man smiled and said, "You do not have to do any work in the house as there are servants for that. I am an old man and I have everything I need thanks to Goddess Lakshmi. However I get lonely in this big house as my children have grown up and left the village for the glitter of the city. I have brought you here to give me company and that is your work. I will feed you well for this, however I have one condition for you and the condition is you are not to speak with anyone outside this house no matter what happens." Chutki was feeling happy, no work to do and freedom from school, what more did she want from life. She blurted out, "I will do my best to keep you happy Babu." The old man smiled and said she can sleep in the kitchen for this one night as I am very tired.

The next morning she woke up early to find the old man sitting in the verandah with a cup of tea. "You can follow the pathway from the back of the house to the village pond to take your bath", said the old man. Chutki nodded her head and selected one of the new-old faded dresses and went out in search of the pond. The pond was quiet big and there were separate sections for men and women to take bath. Some children were splashing about and making a din in the whole area. Chutki was feeling shy. It was not that she had never taken bath in a pond. On the contrary she did it daily in her village but she was always accompanied by her mother. Now here she was standing alone on the first step of the 'ghat' on the pond and pondering on whether to take the second step or not. Just then an old woman bent with age trying hard to walk down the 7 steps to the elevated 'ghat' made in the pond approached her. "You are a pretty girl. What shapely feet? You must be a Brahmin. Are you a guest of the Misra family?" The old woman was not waiting for answers as if waiting might age her a little more and bring her closer to the inevitable death that was waiting for her. The old woman, continued, "Are you deaf and dumb, my child?" Chutki was about to reply in the negative, when everyone in the vicinity of the pond stood up in attention.  Someone shouted make way for the Zamindar Babu. Chutki turned around to see it was her benefactor the old man who was being addressed as the Zamindar Babu. The old man looked around nonchalantly and said, "I have already taken my bath, please carry on my fellow villagers. I came here just for a walk" As the villagers returned to whatever they were doing earlier, the old man lingered for a moment near the pond but his gaze was on Chutki all the while. Chutki remembered the condition put forward by the old man they called Zamindar Babu the last night that she was not supposed to talk to anyone. She got away from the clutch of the old woman who was still mumbling, "What a beautiful deaf and dumb child? and ran down the steps of the 'ghat; to take her bath"

A week went by like this. There were servants in the house who tried to be friendly with Chutki but Chutki could not break the condition and so never spoke. The village womenfolk too tried their best to gossip with her, but Chutki was true to her promise and never spoke. She must have really appeared deaf and dumb to the villagers. Then one day, when her Babu had gone away to visit the fields, Chutki sat alone and began humming a song she had heard. She did not notice that one of the maidservants had entered the room to clean the floors. She gasped on hearing Chutki humming a song but kept her counsel to herself.

That evening there was a crowd which gathered in front of the Zamindar Babu's house. Finally the Zamindar went outside to see why they were crowding outside his house. The Sarpanch of the village walked forward and said, "We have been seeing that there is a young girl living in your house for the past week. Who is the girl? What caste she is? Is she related to you in anyway?" The Zamindar looked back coldly into the eyes of the Sarpanch and retorted "What business do you have asking me about this?" The Sarpanch not to be cowed down, replied, "Do not try to bluff your way out, Zamindar Babu. This has happened previously too and each time you have shouted your way out. But this time, we have decided to not take things lying down. We will call the police if you do not give us answers" The Zamindar said, "all right, you can talk with the girl and ask her as many questions as you want and satisfy yourselves, but I am not going to waste my time speaking with you louts." The Zamindar beckoned one of his servants and asked him to escort the girl outside.

Chutki walked with small tentative steps towards the place where the crowd had gathered. One of the servants had brought a chair and the old Zamindar was sitting on it and glaring at the villagers. She stopped some distance away with her head bent down. The Sarpanch asked in a soft voice, "Little girl, who are you? Who brought you here?" Chutki was still looking down intently counting the fingers in her feet. The Sarpanch tried to coax some words from Chutki but there was no response. Finally the old lady who had met with Chutki on the day she had come to the village pond for the first time was summoned. The old lady, too tried to reason with Chutki but still there was nothing. Chutki simply did not open her mouth and appeared to be intently examining the dirt embedded with her toe nails. Finally the Sarpanch said, "Girl, we know you can speak, why you are not replying? Tell us, is the Zamindar keeping you forcefully against your wish?" At this point the Zamindar roared at the villagers and said, "Enough of this nonsense. I have tried to accommodate your wishes but you are hell bent on proving me guilty on some cooked up charges". The Sarpanch now looked sheepishly at the villagers hoping to get some support. Seeing that the Sarpanch was on the back foot, the Zamindar went for the kill and said, "Get out of here immediately, otherwise I will call the police and have all of you arrested." The threat had been delivered in such a menancing way that it did not take long for the villagers to dissipate from in front of the Zamindar's house.

Time flew, and now six months had passed. The villagers now decided to mind their own business and stopped trying to talk with Chutki. Summer had passed and winter was fast approaching the horizon. One misty morning little Chutki was walking towards the pond when the village boys gathered around her and started shouting "Here comes the mad girl who does not speak" and one of the bravados decided to up the ante and said, "Here come the mad fatty." Chutki had not been well for some days and was feeling weak, but this taunt irritated Chutki to no end. After all she was all of thirteen years old and how could she take this taunt lying down. She wanted to scream at the boys that she was not deaf and dumb, but as always she kept quiet. Chutki had started gaining weight over the last couple of months. Maybe it was the good food in the Zamindar Babu's house. 

At that time she did not care much and just wanted to complete her ablutions and return home and have her breakfast as she was feeling famished. She hurried past the boys and went to the pond. Little Chutki had never worn a sari but now her Babu had commanded her to always wear saris. Bereft of any company with women, she learnt to drape a sari around herself in a clumsy manner. Therefore as she was taking her bath the wet sari clung to her torso in a manner which showed more than it hid. The other village womenfolk were speaking in hushed tones staring at her.  Chutki was used to their staring and talking behind her back, so she ignored them and changed into a cleaner sari and started to walk back to the house.

Gradually waking up early each day and taking the long walk to the village pond became a chore well-nigh impossible for her. On one such day as the afternoon sun began to make its daily descend to give way to the evening, an unseasonal storm started to gather on the western sky. Chutki had been alone in her room crying silently as the pain was intolerable when she heard the loud shouting of angry voices along with the cracking of the thunder outside. One of the maidservants came up to her and said, that Zamindar Babu had summoned her to come outside to the front of the house. Chutki dried her tears using her sari and walked out towards the front door.

A huge crowd comprising of the whole village led by the Sarpanch was standing outside on one side and standing defiantly against them was the old Zamindar. A hush fell in as little Chutki walked with some difficulty awkwardly towards the crowd with her eyes glued to her feet. Addressing no in particular but rather the whole crowd, the Sarpanch said, "Look. Just look at the poor girl. I feel so sad for her." The crowd chanted as in chorus, "Sad, Sad". Having garnered the attention of the crowd, the Sarpanch continued, "This is not the first time, we have seen such disgrace fall upon our village, courtesy of the Zamindar Babu". The crowd was now glaring at the Zamindar.  A nameless face from within the crowd shouted, "We need to get a confession from the girl, so that we can get a watertight case against the evil Zamindar Babu and throw him in the prison."  "Yes. Yes", chanted the crowd."

By now it was quiet dark with the black clouds dimming out the sun completely. The wily old Zamindar dared the crowd and said, "I am as pure as Lord Krishna himself. I have done no evil.  Get the girl to confess against me and I will turn myself to the police." The Sarpanch glared back at the Zamindar and said, "We shall see to it." The Sarpanch turned to Chutki and in a fatherly voice said, "You are like our daughter. We will take care of you. Just tell us what evil things has the Zamindar Babu been doing with you. We will protect you. We shall take you to your parents, who must be missing you as we are sure, Zamindar Babu has kidnapped you and doing things to you against your will." The whole crowd murmured, "We are with you child." Tears were trickling down Chutki's face but words were not.

Just then there was a brilliant flash of lightening tearing apart the darkness in the sky followed by a loud crashing of thunder. Some of the children among the crowd shrieked in terror while even the elders cowed down in fear. Chutki too opened her mouth to scream in terror, but no voice came out. The Sarpanch who had been nearest to Chutki staggered back and fell down in terror as he saw that Chutki could actually no longer speak. Her tongue had been cut off.