Jagriti

“Bus bhaiya…yaheen rok dijiye”, said Nikhil to the autowalla. The auto bumped and then came to a stop outside the massive stone building with huge iron gates. Nothing about the place looked friendly or comfortable. Rather it was a cold tomb. Scary if not downright repulsive. Suhani looked up and sighed. The planning of a lifetime hadn’t readied her for the moment. Sitting in the auto she started at the semicircular board over the gate. The black gate. The black board. The words printed in bold. In white. CHHAYA ORPHAN HOME. She couldn’t remember how long ago it was when she had decided to adopt a kid and what incident has provoked this thought process. Was it her own troubled childhood or was it the sad fate of kids she had met over the last 27 years. Kids who had been deserted by/from their parents. By destiny or by design. But whatever it was she knew that one day she will adopt kids and call them her own…

It hadn’t been an easy battle. Initially it had been a lonely one- especially when she was meeting guys for marriage. She had liked a couple of them- good looking, well settled, nice families but they hadn’t wanted to adopt kids. It hadn’t hurt to say no to them- even though she had to make excuses for the same. To her family. To their family. To them. Then she had hopelessly fallen in love with Arun, her colleague from work. He had reciprocated and it had seemed that finally she had found her soul mate, her mirror self. Until…until she had brought up the adoption thing. Within seconds the discussion had heated up by several degrees. “How can you even imagine bringing in someone else’s impure blood in the family? We wouldn’t even know if it’s the child of a leper or a beggar or a criminal. Get those fancy ideas out of your head…the child might grow out to be a devil…” He had gone on and on. She tried reasoning. Didn’t work. Argument. Didn’t work. Anger. Didn’t work. Love. Didn’t work. Sweet talks. Didn’t work. Nothing worked. In the end she had been left with a simple choice. Adoption or marriage. It simple but a hard one. She was tempted to go for marriage with Arun. She was tempted to lie to Arun about being infertile. But then she had yielded to none of those temptations…she had washed them off with tears. Bucketful of tears and a cold goodbye to Arun…

After that she had almost made her mind to be single for a lifetime. If no man wanted to be her partner in her dream- fine. She will work for it alone. Until Nikhil had walked into her life. She had found herself getting interested in him right from the first moment she met him. Interested enough to go out for coffee and dinner. Every time she went out she had chided herself for getting into a problem again…a problem that had her in its tentacles only a couple of months ago. But the heart wasn’t the one to listen. Then one day over the chat she had casually said, “I wish I could adopt a kid…” and he had reverted with an unexpected excitement “Hey, same here…I want a kid of my own and an adopted one as well…” From that moment there had been no looking back. A year and a half into marriage with Nikhil and their own 3 month old baby Yatharth here they were….Even now their parents were opposed to the idea of an adopted baby but what's opposition to a steely resolve?

Nikhil’s voice shook her out of the reverie. He was asking her to get out of the auto. Obviously he had already made the payment – when all this while she had been thinking. She smiled at him and at herself and gets out. He holds her hand and together they enter the massive gates and even the more massive building beyond. Hand in hand. Yatharth on Suhani's shoulder. A team. Looking for a new team member.

The reception area is cramped with posters of smiling children, torn sofas, empty plastic tea cups, 3 pair of parents (including them) who are out for adoption, 3 volunteers from the NGO and a clerk who looks as dusty, old and grumpy as the room itself. The atmosphere is of sadness and loss and the posters on the wall do nothing to dispel the heaviness. Suhani eyes the 3 other pairs of parents, even as they return the looks – more to Yatharth than to her. She smiles as she imagines them thinking “Are these guys here to give away this cute looking baby? I would certainly take him up…”One of them was well into their late 40’s and did not look the kind of people any kid would want to adopt as parents. The other one were nearing 35 and had a blank expression- the kind of expression that people get when they visit hospital too many times. When they have too many instruments poked inside them to conjure up fertility. When too many medications give too many failed results. When…

“Excuse me, are you Mr. and Mrs. Verma?” she looks up to see one of the NGO workers’s addressing them. She sees Nikhil nodding in positive and then notices the name on the badge of the worker. Kamini. Her mind repeats the name again. To itself. Kameeni. “Hi, I am Kamini and I would be your guide here at the orphanage. I would help you in selecting the child and would answer any questions that you might be having…” That was so cold and businesslike. Almost a deal. But then it was, she realizes with sadness. Even though she would want to adopt all the kids but it was impossible with their limited resources. Just one kid would have to go with them…The NGO girl was saying something again. “…would also want you to fill this form before we move” saying this she hands over a form. Nikhil leaves out her hand and fumbles for his pen in the breast pocket. She looks over to the contents…Name of the to-be adoptive parents. Gender of the child desired. Age of the child desired. And a lot of similar stuff. On the back side some rules…

The form filling and the other formalities over, they proceed to the intestines of the building. For the real task. Child selection. The corridor opens into a courtyard. A courtyard full of children. All scrubbed to perfection and dressed in their best of the rejected outfits of children who lived in real homes. They smile more out of discipline than out of their natural self. Their eyes betray them. The eyes that are almost pleading "Get us out of this place..." It’s a depressing sight…the children look happy and yet so unhappy. Suhani involuntarily moves closer to Nikhil and holds his hands. It was going to be more difficult than she had imagined. More difficult than they had imagined. Difficult to take one and leave 49 of them behind. 49 of them in this heavenly looking hell.

They move around. The NGO girl introduces a couple of children. To their questions and hellos the children respond…but then it seems more out of regular practice than instinct. Obviously they are accustomed to see visitors and know that a cheerful response would make them eligible for an adoption. A sad glum face would not take them anywhere. A few of them stay silent but then they are busy with artwork and arithmetic. Who wouldn’t want to take a future scientist home? The market like atmosphere makes them shudder….

They stay there for the next 3 hours in the hope that the real nature of the children will take over and they will be able to make a selection. But the children are no strangers to such people. They carry on with their role play and after a while it almost seems that they are being their true self. Nikhil and Suhani have to remind themselves again and again that what they are seeing is an untrue picture. 3 year olds brought without any parents don’t chatter like celebrity kids. 5 year olds who supposingly live on charity do not talk about play stations. Depressed they move out. Maybe next weekend they will have to visit some other orphanage, where the children are much more real…

Its 6 PM by the time they decide to return back home. Yatharth is asleep on Nikhil’s shoulder and the last rays of the sun are fast disappearing over the winter landscape. A couple of blocks away Nikhil spots a Mc Donald’s. “Lets get a bite there…I need something warm after that cold heartless place…” he says. Suhani nods, too tired even to reply and together they walk. The cold weather has driven away most of the people inside their homes and the road is almost deserted. As they near the food joint something holds out their attention…it’s a woman, shivering in cold over the garbage bin. In her arms is a baby, who is crying aloud, out of cold or hunger or his condition one cannot day. The woman is dressed in tatters and she does not pay any attention to the child’s crying. Rather all her attention is focused on the bin. Nikhil and Suhani slow their pace, watching the whole scene with revulsion.

The child is crying even more loudly. A couple of slum children appear forming a circle around the woman child and the bin. They are obviously singing something- un-understandable but the tone is provocative – towards the woman. She turns around suddenly and Suhani sees madness in her eyes. She picks up a tin can from the foul smelling dustbin and throws it at one of the child. Immediately the whole crowd dispels and she gets back to her task of searching back in the bin. And then within a few seconds they saw her picking something and smelling it. Then eating it. The forcing the crying child to eat it as well. Nikhil and Suhani move in closer. A rotten guava…a mother forcing the child to eat a rotten guava straight out of the smelly dustbin….

Suhani turns away, tears in her eyes. The day hadn’t gone well and now this. She tugs at Nikhil to move away but he is standing, as if turned to stone. She is about to ask him to move but a tuneless singing catches her attention. She turns back again. It’s that woman singing to the crying child. And dancing. A woman in tatters dancing to a bare bottomed child lying on the pavement beside a rotten guava. The slum children appear again and this time one of them throws a stone at her. She runs after them and they dispel again in the darkness. She curses and returns back to the child and the guava. To family and dinner.

Nikhil suddenly leaves Suhani’s hand and moves towards one of the slum dweller who is standing close by. He bends over and asks “Who is that woman?” The man amused by the recent sight of the dancing woman and the rotten guava says lightly “Sirji, vo pagal hai….has been like that ever since her husband murdered their first child and ran away” “And the child?” persists Nikhil. “..Is her second baby…she cannot take care of him and we have tried to get the child into the orphanage but them these bade sahib log are unwilling to accept the baby. They want money even for accepting a child into the orphanage …imagine Sirji…” Nikhil cuts him and asks again “So who takes care of the child?” The man replied “We do…but then how much can a poor man spare?”

Nikhil turns to Suhani. They look at each other and both of them know that the decision is made, without a word passing in between them…Hand in hand; they walk to the garbage bin. To the woman with the rotten guava and the bare bottomed baby lying on the pavement. She shrinks as she sees them approaching. They sit beside her on either side and hold her dirty callused hands. She smells of urine but Suhani hugs her to calm her down. The woman smiles and indicates at Yatharth and then at her baby. Sadness replaces the fear and madness in her eyes. Suhani picks up the bare bottomed baby and hugs it. It is no longer crying…tired of its own sobs…is busy eating out an already half eaten thumb….

“Can we take this baby home? We would care for him as our own and…” Nikhil’s voice is broken by a loud laughter from the woman. She stands up and from the folds of her saree pulls out a bottle. A bottle of hard drink. Takes a sip and then bites into the rotten guava again. She looks at Suhani and starts crying saying something unintelligible. Suhani tries to console her but it’s useless. The woman is completely out of her senses…she either drinks or cries or utters something un-understandable.

20 minutes go like that…The baby is fast asleep and the woman is still not replying. Tired and hungry they are in a fix about what to do. They look at the woman and then at each other. Finally Suhani says “Let’s move from here. If she tries to stop us we will give her the baby, if she doesn’t….” She leaves the sentence incomplete. Nikhil nods and gets up. He hands over the sleeping Yatharth to Suhani and in turn takes over the sleeping child from her. Suhani also gets up and together they walk to the car. Slowly. Awaiting to be called back anytime. To be attacked. To be asked by the mad woman to hand over the baby. Each second hangs heavy…they are afraid even to turn back…

Once inside the car they place Yatharth on the baby chair in the back seat and Suhani takes over the other child. “It’s a girl and is almost as old as Yatharth…God only knows how she has survived …” Suhani thinks, wondering that all this while she hadn’t noticed the gender of the child…She looks at Nikhil and he is sitting very still. She follows his gaze to the woman. She is still sitting on the pavement beside the smelly dustbin with a rotten guava in one hand and the bottle in the other… still muttering to herself…Suhani presses her palms on to Nikhil’s and he turns on the ignition. They move leaving the dustbin and the woman in the cold darkness behind…the baby tucked warmly in Suhani’s lap.

The next year and forever after that, Yatharth celebrates his birthday with his twin sister Jagriti.