The Beautiful Stranger

The Beautiful Stranger…..

June 1986….

The summer holidays had started. My mother had also gone to Darbhanga with all my siblings to stay with her husband for the holiday period. I had stayed back for a week with the excuse of finishing the holiday homework. And now, tomorrow I was supposed to leave finally.

“Let me finish my recording of the songs and parcel it before leaving.” I thought and started to play the songs.

Koi Jab tumhara hriday tod de ……

I increased the volume and started rehearsing. The volume was purposely increased so that no one knows what I am doing. (Log kya kahenge syndrome)

Then it was chaand ko kya maloom….

And  Tumhi meri manjil….

Suddenly I realized once my cassette player stopped there was a song from somewhere outside in equal volume…

Ajnabee kaun ho tum….

I looked out of the window.

O damsel! A beautiful girl almost same age standing in the balcony of the house just next to ours, standing in the scorching summer heat with only soothing effect of the shade from the huge mango tree in front. As our eyes met she went back to her room.

I replied with another song and tried to see from the cracks in the window.

She had again come out and also trying to check if I was seeing. It gave me courage.

And now the song playing became a game for us.

One song from my side – instant reply from the other.

What more could I have asked for a wonderful summer holiday.  I only remember the last songs that we played repeatedly.

Tera Mera Pyaar Amar….

In response my reply was Dheere Dheere Bol koi sun na le… It was 4:00 p.m now and there was more life outside with people on the roads and kids in the ground. So the melody journey stopped lest the neighbours get to know.

Next day morning, I got up early and went to the terrace to see if I can get some glimpse. But the door seemed to be locked. I played the song again (not that loud as it was early hours of the day)

But no response!

I enquired – she was niece of the tenant in the adjoining house who had come for a day and had left late night yesterday for Jamshedpur along with her maternal uncle.

Ah that beautiful stranger … how can I forget?

Aditya Sinha

23.02.2015

Aligarh

This post is written in response to Indispire 53 topic - The stranger I can't forget #stranger

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I told you so...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Not even 10 minutes back I saw from the balcony – “She was playing downstairs with all the kids.”

Mamma narrated frantically as she could not locate my four years sister Pinky, anywhere.

“They all were playing here and I was busy preparing the food for the puja” She tried to explain the situation to all the uncle’s and neighbours. 

"She must be in the house itself", One of them said.

“Did you see her going anywhere?” – Another asked from us - the kids.

“Did any one come here?”

Questions were bombarding and we were just negating our heads not understanding the fuss.

They started running here and there. Big brothers and aunties tried to look in all corners, under the bed, behind the doors….

Some ran to the terrace.

Few toward the right side of the road … few towards the left….

One returned … not in this lane ..

No…

Mamma was crying regularly.

Everyone else was worried.

Almost half an hour passed and then we saw the big uncle coming from one corner of the road. With him clasped to the chest was Pinky. And there was someone else. Yes, he was holding the hand of an old lady and pulling her along.

He handed her to Mamma.

“Where had you gone” She asked weeping and clasping Pinky to her chest.

“She told me she would give me Toffee but she just took me away…”

“I told you so… I told you not to go out of this gate”

“Mamma ab nahin jaungi” is all she could speak.

Where is the Budhiya- “the old lady”. Someone asked

We looked around.

She had managed to creep into one of the lanes and run away.

We entered the house realizing why Mama told us so.

Aditya Sinha

01.02.2015.

(An instance almost 40 yrs from now …. When kids were stolen like this in small cities)