“These nasty rains don’t need a season to pour lately” thought an enraged Mahid sitting inside his taxi cursing the unseasonal rains of November. It was rare in Mumbai to see rains towards the end of the year.
Mahid had his reasons to curse the downpour. Rains had havocked his life and reason for him to take refuge in this city.
The torrential rains on the night of 2nd June 2007 had devastated his small and scenic village of Dhobini in the Parsa district of Nepal. The heavy landslides which followed washed away his happy and peaceful life with it. He saw his mother and two siblings mauled by the cascading hillock along with his house in front of him. Since then, Mahid feared falling asleep for these vivid nightmares would wake him up. They remained as fresh as the fiercely hitting raindrops on his windshield now.
He used to ferry the taxi for long hours across the Mumbai city just to stay awake.
Mahid moving to Mumbai was to run away from the trauma, though the pining to go back to his village came often. His village, he thought was the most beautiful place on earth where the most beautiful people lived, one of them being his mother. The culture, the customs, the life of Dhobini was distinct and they never left him anywhere he went. He didn’t like this wretched city, he would often say, but he didn’t have a purpose to go back too and stayed as far as he could.
The city tugged the aimless Mahid along with it.
Though it was now over one and a half years past the tragedy, Mahid thought the time had frozen and the calendar on the wall of his room showing 2008 was a lie as for him it was still the fateful night of June’2007. The world had stopped for him.
The visits in between to Zarida Apa’s brothel opposite to his kholi at Kamathipura was not to satisfy his physical needs but to numb the wounds inside, the ones not relenting to heal. Zarida was more than happy to entertain him with her bevy of girls as he emptied his weeks earnings at her brothel.
“Welcome my dear Mahid Zafeer, I got a surprise for you this time, walk straight to your favorite room…will await your feedback later” Mahid wondered what the winking Zarida was talking about, he pushed the door open and walked inside.
There stood a girl, trembling like hell, with folded hands, wailing helplessly at him. Mahid knew all Zarida’s girls and he realised this girl was the new one to join them. The girl was scared to bits and crying uncontrollably which was when Mahid realised one thing, her cries were not making any sound.
She was deaf and dumb. Mahid was suddenly furious at Zarida’s surprise and about to walk out when his eyes caught sight of her wrists, he immediately looked down at her ankles. Both the places had the same pattern tattooed very prominently which meant something for Mahid. Only the Hindu women from Dhobini, his village in Nepal tattooed that pattern, one of their distinct village customs. She was from his village. He had a gleam in his eyes.
Mahid’s mind for the first time began thinking, he wanted to know more, how did this girl land here, and who she was. He went close to her and gestured her to calm down and pointed his fingers to her wrists and ankles. She stopped crying. Mahid on his open right palm using his fingers wrote “Dhobini?” for her to see. Her eyes lit up.
The girl slowly felt secure before him and opened, Mahid read her name scribbled by her on her palm. Her name was Fuli. The coincidence didn’t stop at being from the same village but the reason for their displacement was also similar, heavy floods again this year. An unscrupulous relative trafficked her into flesh trade promising a stable job here. They ‘talked’ for hours.
Mahid felt a strong pang of responsibility towards Fuli. He needed to rescue Fuli from this shit hole of a place. He knew Zarida’s power, she was the most shrewd and ruthless gharwali in Kamathipura. He wanted to try and talk to her, he was prepared to do anything.
“What the hell…you liked her so much and want her all for yourself, that doesn’t happen at Zarida;s Kothi…you know that” Zarida was fuming at Mahid.
“How much it will cost me”
“A lot”
“Tell me a number” Mahid was not giving up.
“She costed me over a lakh…I need two” Zarida was now displaying what she was known for, being a mean kothewali.
“Done, today is 20th November, I will see you in a week time that is on the 27th with the money, until then no one touches her, or you know me Zarida” Mahid’ fearful eyes meant what he said.
On his way out, he met Nazma, one of Zarida’s girls “Nazma, I don’t believe her, please let me know if she does anything otherwise, I know I can trust you” Nazma assured him, Mahid unlike other men was not a flesh-eater, had a heart, she felt empathetic.
Mahid knew what to do next, he had no other way to raise that kind of money so soon but to sell his taxi which he knew will take a week’s time and then board the next available train to Kolkatta from Mumbai CST, catch the next train from Howrah to Raxoul, Nepal border and then take any transport to Dhobini.
He knew Zarida too well to stay back in Mumbai for any more minute, she liked both the money and the girl, he had sensed it.
Everything had gone to plan, Mahid sold his taxi and was all excited to go to Zarida’s place tomorrow morning, the day he promised and take Fuli with him and leave this wretched city once for all.
His mobile phone rang, displaying Nazma’s no.
“Yes Nazma” Mahid answered tepidly
“You were right Mahid, I overheard Zarida making plans to move Fuli tomorrow somewhere else once you hand over the money, she is going to backstab and rat you to the police. You have to take her immediately” Nazma spoke in one breathe.
It was already 6:30 pm, Nazma told him that she will in someway sneak her out in the pretense of taking her to the doctor’s place, and later tell Zarida that she bit her and ran away.
“Ok, then can you bring her directly to Mumbai CST station, we will leave today itself to Howrah, the train leaves at 9:45 pm, please start fast” Mahid knew Nazma would do it smoothly.
It was around 9:15 pm Nazma walked in with Fuli near the entrance of the passenger hall of the CST Station. Mahid hugged Nazma and thanked her profusely. Nazma hugged the mute Fuli whose eyes were filled with tears while parting with her.
Mahid gestured Fuli to wait where she stood while he gets the tickets from the counter and headed to get them. They had little time as the announcement of Howrah mail departure had been done.
Fuli thought of waving again to Nazma when two men with heavy backpacks brushed past her. Her eyes were searching for Nazma.
“Ismail bhai….Allah-O-Akbar” shouted the one with the backpack who wore a purple-blue full-length sweatshirt and stoned jeans while entering into the passenger hall of the CST station.
“Ajmal bhai…..Allah-O-Akbar” the other one shouted back.
Fuli saw Nazma vanishing in the crowd in front of her, totally oblivious of what was happening behind her. She was waiting for Mahid to return with the tickets.
The Howrah mail of 26th November 2008 didn’t depart from the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus that day.
