I had always believed in GOD. I had always been sure of the fact that GOD gave people what they deserved; nothing more, nothing less.
Period
Boarding a train at Chennai central is an adventure no less challenging than white water rafting.
Waves of men running, women ambling, petrified children and the worst of all, the nauseating smell of rotten fish.
I was on one such adventure. The target was to commute safely (unhurt) from the Higginbotham’s book shop to platform number 11 where my train had just arrived. I had seats booked on S5. And honestly, it was one of the most abortive attempts I’d ever made. I got buffeted by a cargo-trolley, nose banged by the distribution of fisticuffs at the door abutting the unreserved coach and the saddest part...earned the 'scornful look' of an unbelievably fat aunty by banging my suitcase straight into her bum. The fact that I still can't digest is that , her husband thought that I had banged on that lady on purpose!
But then, I was at least half successful. I had reached my coach. Guys generally have a peculiar habit. In trains like these, the first thing they check on the charts is not their seat number but the ones adjacent to them to see if there was a girl's name that sounded beautiful , or at least young enough to share corner-of-the-eye-looks with.! I did. And I was eager to see who 'Rita' was!
Manish - Seat number 25.
Rita - Seat number 26.
I was caught in an ambivalence of thoughts when I finally met her. Dejected because she was a 5 yr old child and at the same time, happy, because I love playing with children. I spend half a day everyday wrestling with my next-door kid. So though I was disappointed with the fact that RITA was not some sleeveless-dressed-brown-hair-streaked-babe, I was at least happy that I had someone to kill time.
To me, Kids are fun. They've always been. They never remain silent; They don advise you on anything; they wilfully share anything you eat; they're always happy; they are cute when they pretend to cry and they fall down too often.(That’s kind of cute too)! . Don call me a sadist. I just mentioned that on a lighter note. I mean, I don’t laugh my heart out when they fall out o balance or something.
Rita and I shared the side berth. She was sitting with her mom in the lower berth though. I was bored and took out the Frederick Forsyth novel that I had been reading for eons. That’s when my boredom intensified! And that’s when I first really cared to look at RITA.
RITA. She had blue eyes...Amazingly attractive and pleasingly seducing blue eyes.
I have never seen the eyes of a small child convey so much meaning. There was something mysterious about her. She looked cute, a little chubby and the perfect doll-kind that anybody would love to hug, like they hugged a teddy bear. She had a round face and curly hair, with a fringe of hair draping over her forehead and kissing her eyebrows. She was in all likelihood, the perfect teddy-bear-kid, the ones that are showcased in most ads and soaps in television.
I was longing to speak to her. She did not seem like so much fun. She did not seem like she was cutely-mischievous, but still there was something about her that enticed me into talking to her. I regretted not having a sister like her to play with.
She was sitting by the window, watching the mountains outside. Her eyes didn’t meet anyone, not the
smallest trace of smile on her face. The breeze blew to brighten the already gleaming face of the child. And then suddenly, the same fat aunty mercilessly ushered RITA’s mother to pull her child close so that she could have her window seat! I actually considered banging the suitcase again on her, perhaps with a little more vengeance and purpose this time. The child frowned. She was not the usual kid that found happiness in everything. There was an aberration in all her actions. She refused to enthuse like a 5 year old. She preferred to stay calm. She never looked up. She never urged to break-free from her mom's grip. She rather was holding her mom's hand all the time!
I then offered the child to sit next to me. She never looked up at me when I called her. She was not very curious to meet a stranger. She was not ready to leave her mom's hand and sit near me. But I wouldn’t leave. I kept making gestures so she followed. I wow-ed at the mountains outside, I waved to the cows, crows and kids we passed along. I took my face near the window and let the breeze tip my forehead clear and kept making actions akin to that, which, only window-seaters can possibly enjoy!
She wouldn’t budge until finally, it started drizzling outside. When your heart is pure, adages say...You learn to enjoy nature. No heart is purer than a young child’s. And boy did she enjoy the rain! Her eyes widened, and no longer could she resist the temptation of living the ecstasy.
People find tranquillity in different things. For some, it comes through boozing, For some its sex. For some like me, it’s in watching the sky when lying on the lawn after an exhausting football game. And for a child like RITA, happiness is watching the ants move, or letting the rain drops fall on the tip of their
tongue or in ‘dressing a Barbie doll’.
Rita gestured to her mom. She lifted her soft little hands and pointed her index towards the side-seat window, her eyes still down and afraid to face me (A stranger). Her mom first hesitated, but when I offered a smile and gestured back for her to come and sit near me, she didn’t mind.
I now had a chance to have a close look at her. She was more beautiful than what I thought she was. And she was more in sorrow than any kid I'd ever seen had been. I bent forward as if to comfort her and whispered to her asking for her name. She turned her head away into the mountains outside. She was not going to speak to me. I was clueless. I couldn't comprehend what could possibly bring so much sadness to a child of her age. Scolding and ramblings of parents could only bring momentary sadness, but her’s was not momentary. It was everlasting. It was as though someone had ordered her not to show any signs of happiness throughout her life.
There were a lot of such thoughts rushing through my mind. Those thoughts pushed me into getting to know her more, or at least, try to! My past acquaintances with kids, had taught me the fact that they never disliked chocolates and cookies. I took the 'smiley-faced-Milk Bikis' cookie out and waved at her. She first showed signs of amusement, but that didn’t last long. Within the bat of an eye, she hid all her emotions and continued looking at the never ending mountains. I wasn’t going to give up. I bit and chew the cookie making sounds of 'biting pleasure'. At the second cookie, she turned towards me, at the third, She slightly gaped, fourth, her eyebrows lifted in anticipation and when I ate the fifth, she finally gave up. She stretched her hands. Her hands were so cute and little that I suddenly stopped regretting the no-babe-in-the-train fact. If anything, I only wished there were more cute kids in town I could give cookies to. I placed a cookie in her pinkish palms. She then glanced at her mom for approval. I was afraid if her mom would give her a warning look implying not to take anything from strangers, but thankfully, she only nodded in approval. Perhaps, my face at least didn’t have the hue of a robbing-culprit.! ‘meh!
As Rita was about to split the two halves of the cookie (Most kids do that, they always lick the cream first!), I stopped her. I demanded something in return for the cookie. I demanded a smile from her, I asked her to smile, the same way the smiley faced cookie smiled. But she nodded her head in refusal. She was rather ready to return the biscuit back to me. I was shocked. I mean, what kid could possibly not just smile for the cookie she most loved? I then obliged and returned it back to her. She accepted it but didn’t even remotely show any signs of amusement. She split open the cookie and licked the cream inside. A small part of the cream stuck to her nose when she licked. It looked so so so cute.! I don’t know if you readers can picture what it'd look like when chubby cute faces have a pint of cream on their nose, but trust me, It looked sweepingly cute!
I pointed at her nose and told her that she looked like a 'Mickey mouse with a white nose'. A very small smile escaped her mouth, but she was again quick to hold it back. She did not like me making her happy. She rather preferred to be silent.
Silence, it seemed was her best friend, for it never betrayed her. She was comfortable being alone and unperturbed. I had never really appreciated silence. I am so used to the veneer of noise and partying that Silence always seemed depressing to me. But not then, for hers was the first silence I ever admired. Her silence was more beautiful to my ears than all the noise I had ever heard. But it pierced my heart. I was growing concerned, I was growing possessive. I wished she'd been remotely related to me.
Trust me, at that very moment I could've even stopped playing football if she wished.
Time flew with me admiring her silence. Rita's station was next. She would leave me in half an hour. I had to talk to her. I had to hear her voice. I pictured how her voice would be - Glassy and soft. But she never spoke. I then suddenly took her palms in my hand. She tried to take it back, but I held it firm. She was afraid, but then, she was longing to tell me something. I knew it. But she never did. I tickled her palms, but she never smiled. I asked for her name. She never even opened her mouth. I then pretended to guess them.
"Charanya??" - she nodded in refusal.
"Mahitha"?? - same reaction.
.
.
.
"Rita"??? and her face let out the first emotion other than sadness - Surprise.!!
She gaped with an 'awww' effect. She then gave me a quizzical look, slanting her head slightly and passing an askew look of astonishment, though she never smiled. But at least, she did not turn back to the mountains. She was interested in me. She wanted to talk to me. But refrained herself for god-knows-why.! She just kept looking at me. And I, at her.. Those blue eye.! oh My.! How I wish I had a sister like her!
I starting joking about all the things around us(Most jokes revolved about how the fat aunty would eat the smiley faced cookie!). She never laughed at any of that, but every now and then, a look of amusement surfaced in her eyes and I swear, I could've kept talking for days to see her eyebrows grow and thus dilating her beautiful blue eyes.
Five or ten minutes later, her eyes, for the first time looked at something else - a green monkey doll that someone was selling on the platform. She then turned to her mom who was busy packing something as their stop was nearing. Rita waved her hands at her mom, who was too much preoccupied to see Rita. The innocent child then frowned, and only kept gaping at the doll that she would lose sight of, once the seller leaves the platform!
Ten minutes later, Rita's station arrived. Rita was now a little comfortable playing with me. We were busy playing 'snake and ladder'. She did not want to leave. When her mother ushered her to leave, she looked at me with concern. Her eyes were pleading me to go with her. I knew I couldn’t, though I too was dying to. She had to leave. I then told her mom that Rita looked so cute. She just smiled, not being too pleased by my compliment. I turned to Rita and asked her to at least say a 'bye' to me. She still wouldn’t talk. She'd only wave me a bye. I demanded her to say it. Her mom who remained silent till then, came near me and whispered to my ears.
"Don’t mistake her son, she can’t speak. She is dumb by birth!”
After saying that, she lifted Rita and got down from the train. A thousand emotions were flowing through me. A defiant drop of tear escaped my strong will. I tried to regain myself, but I couldn’t. I had never ever cried for a third person in my entire life. Quite honestly, I had never even cared to care for someone else. I longed to do something for her. I peeped through the window and called for her. Her mom let her down and she came rushing to me, her little footsteps took long to run to me amidst the crowd. She came near the window and again waved a bye. I caught her palms, kissed them and gave her the 'green monkey doll' that I had bought for her. She then ran back to her mom with it. I could bet she was happy about getting the doll she liked. But she never showed. I peeped further out as she was leaving the platform. I called her with all my might though only in my heart and with no sound. I was dumb too. But she heard me. She heard my heart. She turned back and looked at me...and then...
..Rita smiled at me and her blue eyes shone in the dark clouds of her everlasting sadness!
P.S: I had always believed in GOD. I had always been sure of the fact that GOD gave people what they deserved; nothing more, nothing less. And then, I met those blue eyes!
