This is the second story from my book: SHORT STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS - BOOK 1
Brave Hearts
It was getting dark and I was getting worried.
Bhavana, my sister and I studied in the same school and she was in the
sixth and I was in the tenth class. Ever since I bought a used bicycle from my
senior, for a scrap price, we went to the school together in my cycle. The
government buses plied less frequently in our route and we were used to have
long waits for a transport. On occasions, they would never turn up and we would
have to walk three kilometers each way. So, the arrival of a cycle was a boon
to us.
Twice a week, Bhavana went to a teacher who stayed close to our school,
for music lessons. Charu teacher who taught music was very dedicated and
strict. She took students only selectively. My father, who worked as a fitter
in a factory in the nearby town, would pick up Bhavana, while returning home from
work. Every alternate Monday, he had to work overtime and bringing Bhavana from
her music classes was my responsibility during those days.
That day, Charu teacher was in more than her usual enthusiastic moods
and spent more time with Bhavana, who equally matched her teacher’s enthusiasm.
The class went on for a long time and I waited for her. When finally the
classes got over, both Charu teacher and Bhavana spent some more time
appreciating each other and that day’s lesson. It was really late and getting
dark.
When she finished, Bhavana got on the carrier of my cycle. I took the
small bypass road that connected my village to our school and that reduced our commuting
considerably. A cycle ride through this bypass was very exciting and enjoyable.
A cool breeze blew over, across a wide ridge between two nearby mountain hills,
all through the year.
The bypass was lined with thick banyan trees on both sides.
Mango
groves and coconut gardens interspaced between lush green fields added beauty.
A winding canal and its cool gurgling water were exquisite sights
on the way. One got a panoramic view of the fields, with the hills in the
background and the picturesque view thrilled Bhavna. She, as a nature lover in
our house, enjoyed the bike ride every time.
As I pedaled back home, I cautioned Bhavana that we must rush, as the
lighting was poor and it was becoming dark. Besides, that day was a New Moon
day. She said, ‘So what! Even better…. I could watch birds and bats returning
back home.” She was the fearless one and I was her opposite. I feared the darkness.
A host of other things too, scared me.
Midway, it became pitch dark and my stomach churned. Only some street
lights were shimmering here and there and I pedaled faster. Lots of fireflies
were illuminating the dark sky.
“Arun, stop for a minute,” Bhavna shouted from behind, suddenly. I
hesitated, but she had already jumped down.
“I hear a child crying,” said she.
“What? A child crying in this wilderness! Why do you worry? Some
villager should be taking care of it. Let us not waste any more time. Come on.”
“No……… I know for sure, the child is crying. Let us find out whether
there is any problem,” insisted Bhavana. She had already started running in the
direction from where I too heard the cry of a child. I ran behind her.
Behold! There under a tree, in a cloth cradle, from where the cry
came, was a small child, hardly a year old. Bhavana looked around to find out
whether there was anyone, but there were none. She rushed back to the cradle
and lifted the screaming child. My attempts to stop her were in vain. The baby
was already in her arm and she was cuddling the child. The girl baby had nothing
on her as cover and she was completely wet. She had a running nose and her hair
was sticky. Her body was painted with black dirty mud and she appeared ugly to
me, but nothing bothered Bhavana. I detested the very sight.
“Bhavana, this is too much. We have to go back home. Our mother will
be anxious and worrying about us. We are very late. Leave the child where she
was. I am sure her mother or father will come back soon and take her away. Be
assured.” I told her.
“What Arun? Leave this hapless child here? How can you be so cruel and
inhuman?”
I was becoming restless and angry with Bhavana. But I could also
understand her compassion and felt she had a point. The place was dark and
scary and I was afraid. Poor Baby! I was ambivalent. More time passed. Still,
no one was in sight.
“Let us take her home. Our mother will advise us on what we can do
with her.”
Bhavna already started walking back to our cycle, carrying the child
on her shoulders. The baby was quiet by now, though still crying on and off,
and Bhavana was comforting her.
I pedaled faster and Bhavana held the baby tightly, even as she
adeptly tried to balance herself on the cycle. Our mother was anxiously waiting
and on seeing us bringing a baby with us, she was shocked and alarmed. Panting
heavily, we explained how we found the child.
“We can’t keep the child with us. We need to report to the police. We
would run into a problem.” She said, worried. Some neighbors too, had assembled
by that time and raised sharp questions. Our father too, reached home.
Sundar uncle in our neighborhood brought his scooter. We all squeezed
ourselves in the back seat, our mother holding the baby in her arms. He drove
to the nearby police station and our father followed us in his cycle. There, we
met with a policeman, who looked bulky and threatening. He questioned us in a
menacing tone, but soon became very understanding. Bhavana answered most of the
questions boldly and I was half hiding behind her. The Sub-inspector of Police
(SIP) too arrived soon. We tried to explain once again as best as we could, how
and where we found the child. He was very appreciative of our gesture, even
while he expressed concern that being a rural place, it was possible that the
baby’s mother or father must have been working in the nearby field and possibly,
would now be searching for the baby. Realizing that he could not keep the baby
in the police station, he was in a fix. Sundar uncle came to his rescue and
saved him from the embarrassment, by suggesting that the baby could be left
with our parents overnight, if that was okay with the SIP. He also suggested
that the SIP could identify some suitable place for the care of the baby, later
during the next day. Bhavana was quite happy about the turn of the events.
Not immediately finding any other solution, SIP agreed and ordered
another policeman to keep a watch over our house, for our safety. However, he also
wanted to visit the spot and make sure that the baby’s parents were not looking
for the child. So, he took me with him on his motorbike, while others returned
back home. However, the place where we found the baby, looked dark and deserted
and no one was sighted there. I didn’t seem to fear the policemen now, as much
as I used to be.
Our parents were very appreciative of our compassion for the child. It
was almost midnight by the time the baby was given a bath, wrapped up in a
towel, fed with milk and put to sleep. Bhavana was taking keen interest in
everything about the baby. I slept away. I heard the baby crying from time to
time during the night. Bhavana tried to be awake, but she was also overtaken by
sleep. Our mother had been awake for the whole night. The policeman sent by SIP
was with us for sometime in the night and he too retired back to his house,
with a promise to come back in the early morning.
*****
Next morning, the SIP arrived in a jeep borrowed from a nearby police station
and arranged for sending the child to a Children Home run by a Sai devotee we
have heard of, not very far from our place. Overnight, he had also arranged for
publishing the news in the local newspapers. He also took Bhavana and me to the
spot, where we found the empty cloth cradle still hanging loosely from the branch
of the tree. He made inquiries in the nearby localities and there was no clue.
The news spread quickly and it reached our school headmaster too. He,
too, arrived at the spot. We became instant heroes in our school.
Bhavana was not to allow the matter to rest. She suggested that we go
back to the place again that evening and make more inquiries. I was
apprehensive, but conceded. Her enthusiasm was contagious and spreading to me
too. We met a number of local villagers. We also went back to the children home
to inquire about the baby. Bhavana had already christened the baby as ‘Muthu’
and she was very happy in the company of Muthu, who was all smiles now, not
even knowing that her mother was not there to look after her.
*****
The routine continued for a week. In between, we also visited the police
station and couldn’t get any further information about the baby’s parents.
One day, Bhavana looked so sad and miserable. Someone in the class had
told her that probably, the baby’s parents could have deserted the child and
ran away, like they had seen in some movies.
“How can a mother do it?” Bhavana questioned me angrily. I had no
answer.
*****
Thanks to Bhavana’s inquisitiveness, on the eighth day, there was some
break. One of the villagers reported having seen a nomadic gypsy group roaming
and camping near the area where we had found the child and that there were a
few babies too, in that group, though he could not be sure how many. We dashed
to the police station and luckily, the SIP was available that time. We reported
what we learnt. He lauded our efforts and enthusiasm and promised to look
around all the gypsy camps nearby.
The very next day, there was some unconnected news. A woman’s dead
body was found floating in the nearby pond. However, no connection could be
made with the child. The body was sent to the mortuary in the government
hospital in the nearby town.
In another town, the police arrested someone on suspicion and during his
detention, he had blurted the truth. Two gypsy groups had had a quarrel about
money while camping. He was part of one of the groups. When the group parted
ways after a bitter quarrel, he picked up another private, nasty duel with one
of the women in the group, while she was putting her baby to sleep in a cloth
cradle. In a fit of fury, he had severely beaten that woman who swooned and
fell to the ground and he left the scene to join other people in the group. She
must have regained consciousness and managed to reach the pond, looking out for
some water. She, probably, lost her balance and consciousness while she reached
the pond and that answered for her body found floating in the nearby pond.
Alas! The poor baby lost her mother, but gained a place where she
would grow securely and would have some education, decent food, clothes and
lots of love. Bhavana and I visited the children home once in a week to meet
“Muthu”. Even our parents visited the child. Gradually they took more interest
in the homeless children and decided to spend the weekends in their company. It
was a nice feeling we all had.
*****
Should you like the story, you may read the entire book: SHORT STORIES FOR YOUNG READERS - BOOK 1 by downloading the book from www.amazon.com
OR
You may order for the print copy of the same from me, by e-mail to: neelkant16@yahoo.com
Price for Print copy: Rs.100 plus postages (by V.P.P)
Discounts will be available for bulk orders.
