THE FULL CIRCLE: PART 5
Fate had plunged Radha into the midst of the largest cattle fair of Asia – Sonepur Mela; an ancient event celebrated every year on the banks of the pious confluence of Gandak and the Ganges river, on the back drop of Harihar Nath Temple, the month-long fair attracted traders of all breeds of dogs, camels, buffaloes, donkeys, Persian horses, sheep, birds, poultry & fishes. She found herself lost among the numerous stalls vending a wide variety of goods ranging from garments to weapons and furniture to toys, utensils & agricultural implements to jewelry & handicrafts reminding her of the days in Sonbarsa when she would visit the local fair as a child.
By evening, the crowds had swelled and with stalls coming alive to lights and music, her role as an ‘entertainment artist’ was becoming partly clear to her. Employed by the Tamanna Theater Company after testing her competence in dance, her pseudo-name was coined as ‘Kareena’ and along with a group of other similar aged girls; she was to entertain the guests who came into the theater for a fee. The theater would open its doors every evening to the hundreds of traders who came in from villages far & wide entertaining them after a hard day’s trading. The entry fee of Rs. 50/- per person was a big filter though and the mass of public would gather outside the grilled gates prior to the commencement to get a glimpse of the inviting girls on-stage at a distance promoting their act for the day. With each girl named after a famous Bollywood heroine, scantily attired in tight fitting costumes, the show was a hit with men seeking the tantalizing feel at the end of the day – the shrieks & whistles from the crowd gathered bearing testimony to the dance movements of the girls on-stage.
Initially shocked by the culture-change, the small town bred and brought up Radha had required coming to terms with the fact that there was no respite considering the circumstances and with the theater’s assurance of no malpractices, she had stuck on to make the Rs. 100/- per day that mattered to her most for sustenance – the same being the story of every alternate girl on the Theater Company rolls.
Whilst the theater kept her busy in the evenings, Radha would venture out in the mornings to get her mind off the recent happenings in her life. The stalls of awla dipped in sugar syrup, tilkut & gajak, namkeen roti with sheera cooked on a flame, jalebis of all hues of orange to red with bees hovering around, chana papad mixed with freshly cut lime & onions, ghevar freshly prepared in molten oil pans, petha prepared from fresh fruit dripping in syrup were all very inviting, but Radha had lost a taste for everything there was to enjoy & indulge. Sustaining herself on the mere basic essentials she would fill herself on the sober options available and head back to her shelter. She would be especially pained by the sight of young girls negotiating prices of bangles, adjusting their sizes over the heat of the coal to fit perfectly – the sindoor stalls shouting out authenticity claims being abhorred similarly for their non-use furthermore.
With the fair almost drawing to a close, the fateful morning had dawned as that of any other day… it was the inebriated merry-making of the crowd gathered that evening which had made it markedly distinct – apparently a local politician with his group of flunkeys had made his way into the theater and occupied all seats for an exclusive show. The theater manager had indicated all girls to give their best at the show to satisfy the guests, for otherwise it could imply closure. The theater that evening had continued well into the night and early morning hours of the next day with the group not relenting on special requests of performances – it was well past dawn that the manager was bribed into getting more than an individual performance from the girls in private quarters.
Most girls clamoring hurriedly into their stingy quarters on the news being spread, Radha had shut herself in her room when the door was flung open… with the mouth smelling of a blend of alcohols and the shirt buttons opened to reveal the bare chest, the thin brat had come directly at Radha tugging at her top. Noticing the bulge on her stomach and the shriek of a mother for her child expressing helplessness, he had rushed out to find a substitute to fulfill his erotic desires.
Radha had simply fled the place running out of the fair grounds and into the village… with tears forming large sockets in her eyes and the nerves on the forehead showing through the skin, she had continued to run without looking back… life had been extremely tough on her recently.. it had all started with Kailash’s demise.. the inopportune floods causing inconsequential damage.. the gnawing absence of her family all at once.. weeks in the relief camp supporting the foetus in her belly.. the theater company and now this.. as she crossed the narrow lanes of the village, oblivious to the time of the year, she noticed the small heaps of ‘abeer’ & ‘gulal’ set up outside shops – further pained by the memories of Holi during her childhood in Sonbarsa.. of Kailash.. of her house & farmland.. of the scarecrow.. of Laxmi.. of Raja.. of their companionship.. of Raja’s sudden disappearance.. of Laxmi’s uneasiness with the situation.. of their being united again on the day of Holi.. she let out a loud shriek of hope as she ran – some kids by the wayside pelted stones thinking her to be a lunatic; one of the stones hit at the center of her head, bringing out a stream of blood that came rolling down the parting of her hair.. she wondered of the time when the intoxicated boys had rubbed gulal on the mark between Laxmi’s brows and Raja’s return thereafter.. the unborn future in her stomach had just protected her & probably the re-born past was somewhere on the horizon waiting for her..
Life sure had come a Full Circle for her. The flute tunes were ringing in her ears.
By evening, the crowds had swelled and with stalls coming alive to lights and music, her role as an ‘entertainment artist’ was becoming partly clear to her. Employed by the Tamanna Theater Company after testing her competence in dance, her pseudo-name was coined as ‘Kareena’ and along with a group of other similar aged girls; she was to entertain the guests who came into the theater for a fee. The theater would open its doors every evening to the hundreds of traders who came in from villages far & wide entertaining them after a hard day’s trading. The entry fee of Rs. 50/- per person was a big filter though and the mass of public would gather outside the grilled gates prior to the commencement to get a glimpse of the inviting girls on-stage at a distance promoting their act for the day. With each girl named after a famous Bollywood heroine, scantily attired in tight fitting costumes, the show was a hit with men seeking the tantalizing feel at the end of the day – the shrieks & whistles from the crowd gathered bearing testimony to the dance movements of the girls on-stage.
Initially shocked by the culture-change, the small town bred and brought up Radha had required coming to terms with the fact that there was no respite considering the circumstances and with the theater’s assurance of no malpractices, she had stuck on to make the Rs. 100/- per day that mattered to her most for sustenance – the same being the story of every alternate girl on the Theater Company rolls.
Whilst the theater kept her busy in the evenings, Radha would venture out in the mornings to get her mind off the recent happenings in her life. The stalls of awla dipped in sugar syrup, tilkut & gajak, namkeen roti with sheera cooked on a flame, jalebis of all hues of orange to red with bees hovering around, chana papad mixed with freshly cut lime & onions, ghevar freshly prepared in molten oil pans, petha prepared from fresh fruit dripping in syrup were all very inviting, but Radha had lost a taste for everything there was to enjoy & indulge. Sustaining herself on the mere basic essentials she would fill herself on the sober options available and head back to her shelter. She would be especially pained by the sight of young girls negotiating prices of bangles, adjusting their sizes over the heat of the coal to fit perfectly – the sindoor stalls shouting out authenticity claims being abhorred similarly for their non-use furthermore.
With the fair almost drawing to a close, the fateful morning had dawned as that of any other day… it was the inebriated merry-making of the crowd gathered that evening which had made it markedly distinct – apparently a local politician with his group of flunkeys had made his way into the theater and occupied all seats for an exclusive show. The theater manager had indicated all girls to give their best at the show to satisfy the guests, for otherwise it could imply closure. The theater that evening had continued well into the night and early morning hours of the next day with the group not relenting on special requests of performances – it was well past dawn that the manager was bribed into getting more than an individual performance from the girls in private quarters.
Most girls clamoring hurriedly into their stingy quarters on the news being spread, Radha had shut herself in her room when the door was flung open… with the mouth smelling of a blend of alcohols and the shirt buttons opened to reveal the bare chest, the thin brat had come directly at Radha tugging at her top. Noticing the bulge on her stomach and the shriek of a mother for her child expressing helplessness, he had rushed out to find a substitute to fulfill his erotic desires.
Radha had simply fled the place running out of the fair grounds and into the village… with tears forming large sockets in her eyes and the nerves on the forehead showing through the skin, she had continued to run without looking back… life had been extremely tough on her recently.. it had all started with Kailash’s demise.. the inopportune floods causing inconsequential damage.. the gnawing absence of her family all at once.. weeks in the relief camp supporting the foetus in her belly.. the theater company and now this.. as she crossed the narrow lanes of the village, oblivious to the time of the year, she noticed the small heaps of ‘abeer’ & ‘gulal’ set up outside shops – further pained by the memories of Holi during her childhood in Sonbarsa.. of Kailash.. of her house & farmland.. of the scarecrow.. of Laxmi.. of Raja.. of their companionship.. of Raja’s sudden disappearance.. of Laxmi’s uneasiness with the situation.. of their being united again on the day of Holi.. she let out a loud shriek of hope as she ran – some kids by the wayside pelted stones thinking her to be a lunatic; one of the stones hit at the center of her head, bringing out a stream of blood that came rolling down the parting of her hair.. she wondered of the time when the intoxicated boys had rubbed gulal on the mark between Laxmi’s brows and Raja’s return thereafter.. the unborn future in her stomach had just protected her & probably the re-born past was somewhere on the horizon waiting for her..
Life sure had come a Full Circle for her. The flute tunes were ringing in her ears.
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