“Dance”, they said.
She hurled her whole body upwards on her toes, raised her arms and swayed along with the silence. Her hips moved with the rhythm of the wind. And her dark, black eyes were fixated on something else altogether. Something unfathomable. The moon above looked as lost as she was, playing peek-a-boo with the barely visible grey clouds. The night was dark. Lights down were slowly flickering dead. The chaos of the city was turning into a calm. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the street dogs started barking and as they did, she was back in the daylight.
They barked whenever they saw her, those nuisance creating little creatures. Sadly, she was hardly an inch taller than them and they would bark at anyone with that height. The others did bother them though , not her. She was not like them. And somewhere they knew that because as she clenched her fists tight, kept her eyes straight and walked right through them; they let her pass. Maybe it was the way she walked, long strides and fearless. Fearless, she laughed at the word.
The lane wasn’t long but filled with the filth of all the houses, the sludge oozing out of the gutters. Varied cloth pieces lied around along with empty glass bottles, plastic bags and whatnot. She scrunched her nose and dodged the dirt, waiting for the bad smell to pass.
At the end of it, a fence was built defining the rail boundary. Clutching her small hands over the railings tight, she climbed over. A thin metal wire was wound over the fences to keep people from crossing over. But like most of them, she was a rebel. Swinging her arms up, she took a long jump. Her tiny body hit the slope full of grass and stones, rolled down till the plane and stopped; head upwards.
She breathed hard and watched the sky for a moment. It was plain blue from her line of vision; quite unsettling. She felt as if the colour blue was closing up on her. She tilted her face sideways and saw the shades of red peeking through the gaps in the building. Morning was here. She stood up and dusted her already ragged dress.
A lone train engine stood in front of her on an unused railway track. It had always been there. The metal had rusted, the paint had faded. But it was always there. During the day, the younger kids played around it while as darkness took over, the older ones used it for their illicit stuff. She had seen them once. It was fascinating and frightening.The platform came into view as she walked past the old thing. She peeped left to check whether the train was coming. All clear. She crossed the track.
As she climbed up the platform, disapproving eyes of the passengers focused on her. But how did it even matter to them? She was just another beggar amongst the ticking indicator, ceaseless announcements and the jolting engine whistle. And as the train arrived the attention was diverted from her .They got ready to board the train. She did too, for the journey ahead.
She caught hold of the mid column and got in as it started speeding up. She took in the view outside. Houses like hers lined up the edges of the tracks but beyond it, it was another story altogether. Her chapped lips were drying and the wind messed her already greasy hair. It was thrilling, She laughed under her breath and walked further into the coach.
One could find almost every emotion expressed face within those 300 square meters space.Happy faces, lost faces, cold faces but never trigger the angry ones, she knew. Especially during the early hours. So going up to one of the sweet looking women, she stared at her with wide innocent eyes.The lady ignored her for a while but it worked anyway.
She produced a chocolate from her bag and gave it to her.Her eyes lit up. Coins were great but gifts like those made her day. Smiling, she took it from her hands and started eating ; nodding her head in delight as the sweetness melted in her mouth. It was a once in a blue moon tip and she savoured it all quickly.The others watched in amusement and as her gaze fell upon them, she smiled naughtily. They laughed. She was a charmer, she knew. An old woman called her near asked whether she went to school. She shook her head.
“You should” the lady told her, “Tell your mother to send you to the school”. She nodded in agreement, she didn’t have one.
“What can you do?” someone asked. She stayed silent. Taking her silence as her inability to speak ; “Then, dance” they said.
Almost ten people were looking at her with dubious eyes. She took a step forward. She was going to dance to their tunes, they thought. But she wasn’t the one who would listen to others. She hated being told.
So taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and started singing a song. A song her mother used to sing to her before she died. Her sweet, trembling voice took over the humid atmosphere. The coach hushed down. The words were simple but they spoke volumes. They were speechless, she knew. As the melody came to an end, they brought out their wallets and handed her coins. One rupee, two rupees, five rupees, all sorts of coins! But the money won’t be hers for too long. It was going into the pockets of her brother the moment she reached home. She got down at the next station.
Her tiny bare foot stepped on a broken glass bottle.
“Ouch!” she hissed into the darkness. She bent down , removed the piece of glass from her skin and wiped the blood off. She had become immune to the pain. Her house was always full of them. Broken bottles, broken wares, broken dreams.
The terrace of the abandoned building gave her the peace she craved for. The dogs had stopped barking. The city was finally asleep. She wasn’t. But she would wake up with it; for another adventure. Away from broken things.
from where i think 