The evening street bustled with vendors, shoppers and weary folks scrambling back from work. Hoisting her toddler to her waist, Renuka crossed the congested road that blared horns incessantly.
She paced towards her hut. The traffic had delayed her return. She was sure to be thrashed by Mukul, her husband. Her heart pounded in her chest as quick shallow bursts of breaths escaped her mouth. She wasn’t scared of being beaten, but seeing her little one terrified while watching her helpless mother getting mercilessly thrashed pained her to no limit.
A sudden burst of chaos drifted her attention to a big ball of fire. She peered her eyes and froze. Her hut was in flames.
“My house!” She screeched, running towards it.
“Don’t go there.” A gentle, yet strong grip yanked her to a side.
A man probably in his late 50’s looked on with moist, tender eyes. His silvery hair flapped against the orange flames like lightning cracking the nimbus sky.
Without awaiting her consent, he shepherded them towards a safe place.
“My husband…” Renuka sniffled. “Is he safe?”
“Doesn’t look like, dear,” he whispered.
Slumping on the ground, she stared at nothingness. “Tara has lost her father. Where do we go now?”
“Come with me,” he said after a brief pause.
“With you?” She quizzed.
Folding his checkered lungi*, he squatted next to her. “I’m Bhuvan. I live close-by.” He patted the wailing toddler’s head. “Think about her.”
Renuka was silent. The night street intimidated her. Reluctantly, she agreed.
Bhuvan’s house was small, but better than her dilapidated hut. The tidy front room adjoined a tiny kitchen that had a stove and few clean vessels. Parting the floral curtain she entered the bedroom. It just had the space to accommodate a bed and a wooden cupboard.
“You may use this room,” Bhuvan said. “You’ll find some clothes in the cupboard. There’s some milk in the pan. Feed the baby first. She seems hungry.”
Once they were settled, Renuka asked, “do you have a daughter? The clothes fit me perfectly.”
“I had,” he replied without looking up. “She left me.”
“I’m sorry. Did she go…”
“Let’s eat,” Bhuvan interrupted. “I’ve to leave early for work tomorrow.”
Staring at the creaking ceiling fan, Renuka pondered as she lay still. Mukul is gone. Shouldn’t I be mourning? No, the violent days are over. I’m free now. But what will I do? While he was alive, I was secure in a house. Bhuvan seems to be a good fellow. But I can’t bother him.”
The next morning, Renuka woke up just as Bhuvan was leaving for work.
“I’ve prepared some food. I’ll be back by evening. Consider this as your home.” His compassionate smile could melt the hardest rock.
“Sorry… but I can’t stay,” Renuka replied softly. “I used to beg for a living. I should leave.”
“Your husband forced you to beg, right? I had seen him smearing mud on your daughter’s face to garner sympathy.”
Tearfully, she looked down.
“Live with dignity, child. Follow me.”
He took her to his tailoring shop.
“Shanthi, teach her to stitch and employ her here,” Bhuvan commanded.
“Sure, boss,” Shanthi smiled.
“Do you see all these women here?” Bhuvan pointed at the dozen women who were busy stitching. “They all are poor, but have found their self-worth. Do you get my point?”
Renuka’s heart fluttered with unfathomable joy. Never had she been showered with this respect. Hugging Bhuvan, she wept. “Thank you, baba.”
Bhuvan’s eyes moistened. A content smile escaped his lips.
The next few days saw the usual grim Bhuvan humming songs and talking sweetly to everyone.
“What magic have you done on him, Renuka?” Shanthi chuckled. “The old man is a changed leaf now.”
The evenings were spent laughing and playing with Tara who totally adored Bhuvan. He’d mimic cats and dogs and ask her who she loved the most. Just to hear her babble- “naanu**”.
Tears streamed down Renuka’s face when she was handed her first salary. She bitterly remembered how Mukul used to snatch her meagre earnings, spit on her face and threaten to kill Tara if she wouldn’t earn more money the next day. All he’d do was drink and sleep.
With her salary, she bought a soft mattress for her baba.
“Why did you waste your money on me?” Bhuvan growled.
“Baba, you toil day and night and sleep on the hard floor while we relax comfortably on the bed. Don’t you dare refuse.”
Bhuvan smiled. The meek kitten had transformed into an assertive tigress.
Renuka was always curious about baba’s daughter. His apprehension was palpable while talking about her. So, she asked Shanthi.
“Manju was a lively, 19-years-old girl,” Shanthi replied. “She was the apple of baba’s eyes. One fateful night, when they both were returning back home, she was abducted. Baba tried to fight, but he was stabbed. Though he survived, she didn’t. She was brutally raped and abandoned on the railway track to die.”
Renuka gasped. Baba’s gentle eyes masked such an inexplicable torment. She cried bitterly.
“Had it not been for you and Tara, he’d have lost his mind.”
That night, Renuka prepared his favorite Mutton Korma, just the way Manju would make.
“God sends angels at unexpected turns,” Renuka remarked. “Thanks for being one, baba.”
She placed her head on his lap and slept. Running his hand over her head, Bhuvan shut his eyes and sighed.
Visions of Manju crying for help flashed within his memory. How could he forget the perpetrator- Mukul’s demonic laughter? The unfortunate father couldn’t even gather all of his daughter’s shattered remains from the railway track for cremation. But he had vowed to exterminate the lowlife beyond recognition. Everything went on as planned. The fury within him extinguished with the fire that blazed Mukul. The only unplanned event was his encounter with a destitute Renuka and her innocent Tara that transformed his bitter life for better.
“My angels,” blinking away tears, he whispered.
***
Glossary:
*Lungi- a long colored cloth draped around the waist by men.
**Naanu- maternal grandfather
