Kartikeya Ghimire
It was morning; the time was extremely tranquil. It was pleasing too. Since the examinations had been over, my mind was at ease. Yes, it was then that I saw Uncle Arun – driver to my father – sobbing in a corner of the foreyard. I went near him; he smiled to see me approach. But gloom still clouded over his face. I asked, “Uncle, why are you in tears today?”
Hearing me speak so, he gawked vacantly at the ground without a word. A asked again, “Why don’t you speak out uncle? What’s wrong with you today? I saw you in tears.”
Before he had uttered a word, we heard daddy yell, “Come on, Ram! Get the car ready at once. We are driving towards Dhulikhel today.”
With a purr, the vehicle moved out of our compound. I stood still, staring at the driver, only to be startled when daddy bade me, “Bye, honey!”
After they had left, I was left in a graver tension. I was quite anxious to know why the driver had wept. I ran to the rooftop. There, I found mom busy on the cordless phone, talking to someone. She didn’t get over with talking even after fifteen minutes of my waiting. Bored, I moved down to the living room. There was power-cut; I could not watch the television. I started peeping out of the window.
From our living room, one could see a hamlet of a few adobe houses, a little away. For quite a long time, I watched the houses that stood on a straight line on the river bank. God knew why, I wanted to go to those houses that day. I contemplated for a while, unable to decide who I should take for my company. Then I suddenly remember what daddy had said recently, “My darling is now nine years old; she ought to accomplish small works on her own.”
I at once endorsed daddy’s thought. I decided that I should be walking to the village alone. Suddenly then, it occurred to me that it was there where uncle the driver had his home. I decided, ‘I will go, asking for his home.’ I made up the plans in my mind, and quickly sneaked out of home. I was afraid lest mom should spot me and force me back. But thank God, none saw me move out. Running quickly, I came in front of a broken bridge. The filth in the Bagmati River was reeking abominably. Covering my nose, I ran like a flash and reached where the huts stood.
I took a narrow lane, and walked on. It was rather a dark lane. Most of the homes had red and white pigs in the sty. In a corner, I could see four boys playing with marbles. They were clad in dirty clothes. When I had reached very near, they abandoned their game and ran home. I was taken aback. Nearby, I could see an elderly woman sleeping. Her home has a plastic roof, and had no bar around. I greeted her, ‘Namaste!’ She didn’t respond. In a louder voice I asked her if she knew the home of Ramhari, the uncle who drove daddy’s car. She pointed to a house beyond four houses in between. It was a tin-roofed, mud-built house. I rushed towards it.
Reaching in front, I observed the house minutely. It was a real old house. The walls had cracked on all sides, and could crumble any moment. The wall to the north was almost aground. The roof covered just half; the other half being canopied by a thin plastic. I knocked on the door, and pushed it a little. To my dismay, it crumbled. Terror besieged me, and I shook. ‘Who there?’ yelled a woman and walked out. Seeing me, she stopped and stared gawking at me in amazement. I asked her whether she knew me.
She nodded her head. She rushed in, and quickly brought a mat out and spread. She asked me to sit on it, but I could not. In fact, I wanted to explore the reasons why the driver has wept that morning. In an attempt to fetch some hints, I asked, “Is it that just two of you live here?” Hearing me ask so, a girl of my sister’s age walked out and said, “I too stay here.” I looked at the face of the girl. She has marks of dried tears all over her cheeks. I asked her to sit by side, and asked lovingly, “Did you cry, darling? Why is my blonde sister crying?”
I had hardly finished when she turned to me with eyes brimming with tears. She held my hands tightly and fell into sobbing. Amid an apparent fear, she pointed towards her mother and said, “Sister, my mom…” I looked at the woman – the wife of the driver. She looked quite worked up. I turned to the girl again. She was, right now, on my lap, and was trying to say something. She started looking at me and at her mother in turns. Tears however kept a uniform flow out of her eyes. Stroking her head gently, I asked, “Come on tell me; what’s wrong here, sister?”
Hearing me, she once again tightened her hold around my hands. She stood up abruptly and went to my back. Amid frantic sobs, she said, “Sister, I want to attend a school. I can…”
She had hardly finished her sentence when her mother ran up to her, and charged two slaps on her face. The girl clung to my feet and cried, “Sister, save me!” I was a scene intolerable to me. I also started weeping, spelling daddy’s name out. Hearing me cry, the woman was a little deterred, and she stopped beating. I took up the child, and pressed on my chest. She was still sobbing in hiccups.
It was right then that I remembered of my piggy bag. I also remember the money that filled it. I took up the courage and said, “Come on sister. From tomorrow, you shall go to school with me.”
Hearing my words, she slowly bloomed up, and smiled. I kissed her tender, rosy cheeks and said, “Today, you will go to our home with me. Come on, let’s be going.”
Time in the afternoon had slipped quite away. The sun was almost setting. I hurried to home with the girl walking with me. At home, mom cuddled me and I told her everything. When I boasted of the money in the piggy bag, she approved of my plans.
It was seven o’clock in the evening. Daddy’s car drove in, and stropped at the foreyard. With the girl, I walked out to the foreyard hastily. Daddy gawked at the girl in amazement. A little boiled up, he asked, “Who is this? Why do you pick up and bring home anyone you like?”
Why would I be deterred that easily? I said without any daunt, “Daddy, she is Khusi, the daughter of Uncle Arun, our driver. What if you would not allow money for her schooling? I have saved enough in my piggy bag?”
Uncle Arun, who had been wiping the vehicle, stopped the chore and came running to me. The girl ran and cuddled in his bosoms. Daddy looked at me, and turned to the driver who had smiles spilled all over his face. Then, he called everyone at home to the foreyard and said, “Listen one and listen all! From today onward, my daughter will bear all expense of this girl’s schooling! God, what a joke!”
I didn’t like the way daddy mocked at me. With red eyes filled with tears, I said, “Yes, I will bear. Out the fifty daddy gives me daily, I will give twenty rupees to this sister. The money in my saving shall be used for her admission and dress.”
Having said so, I walked to mom’s bosoms, and started crying.
I knew my daddy’s heart, after all! He was as soft within as butter. He picked up Khusi and came near to me. He placed the girl near to me and said, “It’s OK, darling. I liked your will power. From tomorrow, both of you shall be attending the same school together.”
When daddy had finished, I looked at the driver. He had smiles on his face. Yet, tears were rolling down his eyes. Mom opened her arms and invited both of us. Both of us ran to the abode of love. I saw my mom happier than ever, because for the first time at ours, something said by me, and not by daddy had been approved of.
Thank you daddy, thank you mummy! Thank you Uncle Arun – our driver, and thank you aunty! Sister, thank you too. You all have understood the voice of my heart. Now onward, my sister will be walking to school together with me. Thank God, what a rare turn of luck!”