Sunshine

On a cold winter’s night, in the lobby of a multi-story building in East Delhi, two men looked on from behind a third, who was seated in front with his hand on the screen of the mobile phone, as the booming baritone of Amitabh Bachchan’s voice rang through the Sony screen of KBC…“This question is the fifteenth question and the right answer will fetch you fifty lac rupees. So Tej Bahadur ji, are you ready?”

“Ji Sir.”

“So here it is on your screen.. Mangal Pandey belonged to which regiment when the revolt of 1857 broke out? And the options are A, B, C and D”…. as he read them out once in Hindi and again in English.  “You do not have any lifelines left, so do not take any chances. Lock the answer only if you are sure, otherwise your reward will fall from twenty-five lacs to three lacs twenty thousand only.” The young lad sat at the KBC set in Mumbai staring at the options carefully, trying to eliminate the incorrect options as the audience looked on with pin drop silence.

At Delhi, the person sitting on the chair was being egged on by the other two people, “Give the answer, Ramesh.” And Ramesh confidently replied, “The answer is D- 34^th Bengal Native Infantry.”

Hello, I am Ramesh and belong to Azamgarh in Uttar Pradesh where I did my schooling and then did my graduation from the Open University. From the beginning itself, I used to read a lot of books and magazines on history and sports. I even started preparing for the competitive examinations for a job in the state government but, as luck would have it, I had to move to Delhi with my maternal uncle who enamored us with stories about the beautiful city and job opportunities for young men. Soon I realized that getting a good job with a graduation degree was near to impossible and so, to make ends meet, I joined Mamiji in ASS or Alert Security Services. While my job is boring and poorly paid, it has not stopped me from reading and keeping my love for quizzing alive. People in the building pose questions at me randomly and the right answers often get me anything from a ten to fifty rupee note as bakshish. I got married to Lata a year ago and she stays with my parents at Azamgarh. She is a nice and simple girl who sings beautifully. We’ve hardly lived together but I quite like talking to her and do video calls daily.

My job has a standard routine and all days are almost alike. With eight of us on duty at any given time, I don’t think any thief will ever dare to rob this place. We just run errands like checking the water levels and switching on the lights and making calls on the intercom. But like all jobs, we have had our bright spots.

Roshni worked as a cook in a couple of flats in the building. She would come during the afternoons and then leave by evening. She was a young, tall girl with real big and beautiful eyes. She always kept her long, black hair oiled and neatly tied up. Unlike other maids, Roshni would always be dressed in colourful sarees and that made her look attractive. For the other guards she was just another servant, who would come and go during the day, whose identity card had to be checked and the register signed every day. But to me she always stood out different and special. I made it a point never to miss being at the front desk at her usual arrival and departure times. Initially, she never took notice of me and but slowly some telepathic signals from me, possibly, reached her and the ignoring stance gave way to a knowing smile. As days passed, the smile improved to monosyllables like haan…na…theek hai. My universe started rotating round her and one look from her made my day shine.

And then she suddenly went missing. Roshni did not come to work for a couple of days and I felt sad and restless. I did not have her telephone number and was ashamed to ask the other maids. I even checked the office register but could not find it there as well. When she returned, she had a bandage on her wrist and she refused to look at me while showing her identity card and signing the register. I asked her, “What happened…how did you get hurt?” She kept quiet and went off to work. But I was determined to know her story so, by the time she finished her work and came down from the lift, I too was done with my shift and was waiting for her outside the building. I followed her to the bus stop and got onto the bus along with her. Before she could put her hand into her tiny purse, I pulled out money from my pocket and paid for the tickets…”Do ticket Seeelampuri ke liye dena.” She did not protest. The bus moved on from one stop to another and we stood silently next to each other.

We got off the bus one stop before her destination and started walking. It was then that she spoke up.

“Ramesh, you are making a mistake by following me. You don’t know anything about me.”

“So tell me.”

“My name is not Roshni, it is Rubina Sheikh. I am from Bangladesh and I am married. My husband has a meat shop and there are many from my native place living here. It is easy to get the Aadhar and the ration cards made with our new identities. All you need is to grease some palms and it is done in no time. If people knew my true identity and religion, all the Agarwals, Jains and Guptas in the building will never let me enter their houses. My husband often comes home drunk and abuses me both verbally and physically. This is quite common in these parts and so you should not get so upset about my injury. I have gone through this many times.”

I stood still as I heard Roshni and then turned brave and softly but confidently…. “Roshni, I dream of you every night and wait for you during the day for a glimpse of you. What you said about yourself maybe important to others but not to me. For me it is you that matters and not your religion, not your name and not you being married. I, too, am a married man but cannot think of anyone but you!”

She looked at me in the eye and smiled.

“Ramesh, we are now getting close to my house, so you must go back. If anyone were to see me with you, my husband will make my life hell and may also come after you as well.”

Saying this, she walked away briskly without looking back. I saw her disappear into the dark alley and I turned around to go back to my quarters. I did not know how she would react after I had opened my heart to her but then things turned out good for me. She would now find a couple of minutes to talk to me and for me those few minutes were the best moments of my days. Was I falling in love with her? Maybe yes, and yet I would religiously talk to my wife and parents back home daily but that call now seemed like routine duty more than any sense of longing, something I felt here while waiting for Roshni. She had by now shared her mobile number with me and we would often talk…we would share jokes and whenever I found her sad and low, I would try and lift up her spirits and get her back to normal. It seemed her husband’s behavior was going from bad to worse by the day and my leaning towards her stronger. I would insist on her sending me a picture of her every morning and she would oblige. I, initially, called it her attendance marking and then later named it as my sunshine picture of the day, something that would brighten up my day. She would at times pack some home cooked food for me. We connected discreetly lest others in the building were to come to know about us. This hide and seek of ours was fun.

Each month I would send home one half of my salary. I worked an extra shift in a nearby nursing home and the money I earned from there I would to keep it separately hidden in a trunk in my room. When I had a good sum saved, I bought a pair of small gold earrings to give to my wife as a surprise gift on our first anniversary. I showed it to Roshni one day and asked… How does this look?

You bought it for me? She asked with a sparkle in her eyes.

I could not say no and she smiled and kept the gift in her bag thanking me profusely. I felt like holding her tight in my arms right there and am sure she would not have resisted but I held myself back.

On the evening of my anniversary, Roshni was near me but stood away from the mobile screen as I talked to Lata. I had also put up a picture of our shaadi on my WhatsApp display picture to mark the occasion.

Don’t cry Lata. I will come home soon during Diwali. I have bought sarees for you and Ma and kurta-pyjama for Babuji. I long to have food made by you. When I am home, we will go to the mela together and watch movies…we will have Pepsi and popcorn….achcha gol gappas as well. Ek gaana suna de…

Mere piya gaye Rangoon

Wahan se kiya hai telefoon

Tumhari yaad satati hai

After the call, I went for my daily walk followed by the daily bus ride with Roshni. She seemed very tense and sad that day. She did not utter a single word.

Next morning she did not post her sunshine picture. I kept looking at the WhatsApp after every few minutes but she did not come online. In the afternoon she came and handed me the small box containing the earrings that I had given her.

No Ramesh. It is wrong on my part to take our relationship forward anymore. Ours is a hopeless relationship which cannot go on beyond a point. You have a happy family and a loving wife who trusts you. My family life is completely ruined and I cannot spoil yours. You are a good man and I know it will be difficult for me to stay away from you but I never would like to be called someone who wrecked another woman’s life.”

I saw her eyes moistening as she walked away pulling out her handkerchief from her small purse.

I was shattered and I fell down in the KBC of life from twenty-five lacs of prize money to zero. I could not sleep that night and many nights after that. Tried calling her and texting her but she did not respond. She was firm in her decision. I understood what Roshni had said and am now trying to accept my fate. I have changed my regular afternoon shift to night shift so that I do not encounter her. I have now adopted a kitten, who was born in the basement of the building, and feed her milk and food. She sits near me as I keep awake, sitting before the burning twigs as the chilly Delhi winds freeze us to the bones, and sing with my fellow guards, in our own dialect, songs of love and longing. And then, of course, there is KBC at night where I suddenly become the hero.

I have booked the train ticket for going home on Diwali and bought the gifts I promised Lata, plus of course the ring, of which she knows not . I still have some pictures of Sunshine saved on my mobile and do see them to brighten up my days. Wondering if I should keep them or delete them…..I think I will keep them.

SS