Hamidah Hemani November 11, 2001

Tags: Hope , Children

rel="tag" href="/tag/music">music, that vibrate my room's marble floor. Babloo tells me that Papa and his friends don't just listen to music, a woman too sways and wriggles with the music. I can hear the jingle of her ankle bracelet in rhythm to the heavy tabla beats. The weighty strokes reminds me of my tuition teacher swatting flies and then gently sliding them off her wooden dinner table. I look at Babloo, he has changed his position. I slink his thumb out of his mouth. Ammi says it's not good to sleep like that. She says if we sleep like that, then we never grow up. I stand up and walk towards the door and the noise gets louder. I go to Ammi's room to sleep next to her in her spacious warm bed, which smells of Jasmine in spring. I knock on her door but she does not answer. I twist the knob with the hope that it will unlock. I knock at her door three more times. Tonight she sleeps like Babloo or cannot hear me in all this noise.

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

Sadru is late again. Babloo tells me that Sadru is late because he goes to meet his girlfriend, who offers him hot Chai, which he sips with leisure, and that’s why he is never on time to pick us up from school. Babloo says he will complain to Papa. I don't care; his lack of punctuality gives me time to wander around the vendors, who sit outside at the school's footpath with their wide woodern wheel carts. I see small baby chicks, taking tiny steps in circles. I want to buy a yellow and a pink one. Last week I had bought fireworks from another vendor. The loud bang-bang noises were just like the gunshots Papa and his friends made when they were happy. I ran all around the house like a senile fakir, startling everyone with their loud noises. Sadru shouts our names and I tell him to come to the vendors and bargain. I tell him I want the pink and yellow ones. He laughs and says it does not matter; they all are colored by chemicals. I don't believe him. He is a liar and Babloo agrees with me. I empty my school bag while Sadru argues to get a cheap price and after a long wait we get my two chicks. Sadru carries my books and I carry my chicks in my school bag to the car. Babloo is already in the car.

As soon as the car pulls in to the broad driveway the aroma of food gets me all excited. Babloo and I try to guess what is cooked for lunch. Sultana is a good cook, she can cook everything. She can make French fries, Burgers, Butter chicken. Babloo guesses Chicken Fry and I Fish Fry. Today I am right.

"Where is Ammi?" I ask. Sultana does not answer me but I see a woman sitting at the dining table. The woman smiles. I ask Sultana again.

"First eat," she orders. Babloo is already washing his hands and I follow too. I take my two chicks and put them in a cage. The woman that sits at the dining table gives us a toothpaste smile. She is not a new servant. Her clothes are nice. Sultana brings food to the table. The woman puts portions on our plates. Who is this woman, I wonder. I don't ask her anything because Ammi tells me not to ask lots of questions. She smiles at us throughout lunch and Babloo even smiles back. He is so stupid.

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

We both race to Ammi's room; it is locked again. I knock but Babloo starts to bang. Ammi opens the door immediately. Babloo clings to Ammi's legs and waist, but I look at her face, that is because I am taller. Ammi's kohl is smeared and she looks pale. Ammi smiles but I don't. Babloo asks her about the woman downstairs. Ammi does not answer. I think she wants to cry. Babloo asks again. He will not give up till Ammi replies. Babloo is so much like Papa.

"Khairunissa," Ammi replies.

There is a knock on the door and Ammi opens it. It’s Sultana, she tells us that Sadru waits downstairs to drive us to our tuition teacher. Ammi's wet face touches my cheek when she kisses me. She hugs and kisses Babloo and we both leave the room. On the way to the car, Babloo tells me that Khairunissa is the dancing woman. He tells me he has seen her twice. I don't believe him. I ask Sadru, he tells me that she is a randi. I don't understand him. Babloo tells me it’s a bad word for a dancing woman. Babloo is also a liar.

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

The tuition teacher hits me twice with a ruler. I just can't remember the tables. I cannot concentrate on anything today. It’s almost evening and the tuition teacher is tired. I want to go home and feed my chicks. I want to play peek-a-boo with my chicks. The tuition teacher swats a fly and lets us go home. Sadru is waiting for us. He has bought chocolates as a bribe. Now Babloo won't complain to Papa about him. I give my chocolate to Babloo. He takes it without a thank you. I don't care. We enter the driveway and the food's aroma makes Babloo guess again. I don't guess. I just don’t want to see Khairunissa. I hope she is not still sitting at the dining table. Papa is home too. I see his big car. We enter the house and Babloo asks Sultana what she is cooking. I go and check on the chicks. I change the water in their bowl and put a clean newspaper in their cage. I want to see Ammi so I leave Babloo in the kitchen and go to her room. I knock but she does not open the door. Then I bang like Babloo and she still does not open. I turn the knob, the door is unlocked. I enter the room but there is no one inside. I check the bathroom. She isn't there either. I see small drops of blood on my way out. I think it’s red ink. They seem like eyes on the pink tiles. I go down to the kitchen. Sultana is standing near the oven and Babloo is eating. Sultana looks at me and turns away. I walk up to her and ask.

"Where is Ammi?"

She refuses to look at me. Then she does, with droplets falling from her eyes.

"She is gone,"

"Where?"

"I don't know."

I want to cry too but I don't. I don't want Babloo to cry. He is playing with his food. I go to my bird cage and take out my two chicks. I like to stroke their down between my fingers. I walk out to the backyard and put them on the patio. With my feet I stamp the floor, jump up and down making thumping noises. I shout to the chicks.

"Fly. . . fly."

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

It is such a hot day; every time I step out I sweat in Ganges of perspiration. Poor Babloo has gotten heat stroke so he is in bed drinking red sherbet every half an hour. Sultana makes sure he drinks until his tall glass is empty. If he stays in bed for a long time then he will get behind in his class lessons and he will have to repeat a year again. If only he had not played with Adnan for hours yesterday, I would not be going to the tuition teacher alone. Sadru parks the Pajero in the tuition teacher’s driveway and I hop off the car.

"Now remember I am just going down the street for tea, I will be back in fifteen minutes so don't cry if I am not here, Okay?"

I don't reply nor do I nod. I don't care if he never comes back, after all I am ten years old and I don't cry. I turn around and walk towards the back entrance, which our tuition teacher always keeps open for her students. Sadru screeches the car while reversing and its noise makes me lose my balance for a moment but I spread my hands straight like Superman and adjust my posture. The tuition teacher has a big garden but she has no flowers. Just tall grass growing endlessly reaching up to my waist. Syed tells me he once spotted a snake sleeping in the corner where all the trees lined up like a wall. As I reach the back door I see Syed sitting on the dirty doorstep with his head down on his lap. Just like when Mrs. Islamiat teacher punishes us.

"Syed, why are you sitting outside?"

"The door is locked."

"Did you ring the bell?"

"Array are you mad? that wretched thing lets out current, if you want to die then go ahead."

I hesitantly reached up to the doorbell and stopped, remembering the story about Sultana's sister who once in rain pressed a doorbell and then turned blue and stayed that way for days.

"What should we do?" The heat from the sun makes my face hot and I take out a hankie from my bag to wipe my forehead. "Do you want to bang?"

Syed shakes his head and points to a tree "Lets climb that for shade."

I want to tell him that I can't, I have a geography test to study for, but the red ripe almond fruits hanging on the branches are an offer too alluring to miss and we run towards the trees. He chooses a big tree with low branches and I follow his trail. I climb like a monkey, hanging on the branches taking a few swings before I jump on to another one. After stretching on to five branches I stand on the hollow trunk and lean on a thick branch. Syed pulls the almond fruits from branches and tastes them. The sweet ones went in his pocket and those, which were not up to his standards, went on the ground. Soon his blue jeans whose fly is loose and keeps getting undone bulges irregularly. I put ten fruits in my backpack for Sultana, who likes to eat them and then break it's hard crust with a pestle to get the almond, which she shares with me and Babloo. I spot a red big fruit and pull it immediately before Syed can whisk it away and throw it half eaten on the ground. Its sweet juice dribbles down on my checkered dress as I take a big bite.

"Syed do you know where is Africa?"

"Yes, behind my bathroom door."

"He he he, very funny," I say sarcasm.

"Very funny, there's a bunny in your tummy, eating honey, taking money costing only one penny."

I ignore him this time, until he comes back to his senses.

"Razia, I was just joking," he says immediately.

"A mean joke Syed, by the way, your post office is open,"

Syed immediately looks down at his fly and zips it up and I laugh.

"Neebhaghi!"

He says stupid to me in Sindhi and I retaliate back in my mother tongue.

"Neebhaghaa!"

Syed starts to raise his voice and I tell him to keep it down, otherwise tuition teacher will come out and take us inside but he does not listen and I see the rusty door open. The tuition teacher looks at us raising her hand on to her forehead to block the sun and shouts out our names. I carefully climb down the branches feeling a tornado in my stomach. Syed follows behind me and we both run and stand in front of her with our heads down.

"What were you doing up on the tree, hain?

We both do not reply just hang our heads low, waiting for the storm to pass.

"Look up you both? And where is that rascal Babloo? Is he hiding?"

"He is sick at home . . . has heat stroke," I mumble looking at the pink rollers in her hair matching with her long pink nightie. Lines of sweat flow from her cheeks and her white complexion gets a flush of pink.

"Now come inside you kaam-chaurs and what is that?" She points at Syed's pockets.

"Take out, take out all of it." She makes him empty both his pockets and throw the fruits in her garden.

I hope that Syed will not tattletale on me and he does not. We both enter the tuition teacher's house, which always smells of over brewed stale tea, and sit in our designated chairs at the dining table. The tuition teacher swats a fly on my side of the table and asks me for my homework diary. I bend down to take it out from my bag. I muffle my scream with my hands as I see a big black lizard scamper past my legs, pass by the tuition teacher’s legs and then climb the cream coloured wall as fast as a rocket. I do not disguise my scream well and the tuition teacher flicks her head to where my eyes focus, just in time to see the lizard slither behind a picture frame. Syed shrieks in delight, when he sees the tuition teacher swiftly remove the picture frame and smack the lizard’s body with the fly swatter. I stand on the chair as she drags the lifeless lizard with her swatter out the door. I notice the lizard's disjointed tail wriggle and jump on the floor but only blink. The tuition teacher calmly sits down on her chair and takes out my geography book. Flipping fast through the book she stops at a marked page, then looks at me standing awkwardly on the chair, asks in her high-pitched voice.

"Africa?"

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

At home the only thing that bothers me is Khairunissa, ever since Ammi is gone, she thinks she is the mistress of the house. Sultana do this, do that she shouts all day and night. And then Sultana does not get any time to rest or tell me stories. Tonight, thank God she is not home, so I switch off the TV and take Babloo with me to Sultana's quarter.

Her room is not big like mine and the paint from the wall peels off to ground like small jigsaw puzzle pieces.

"Sultana, tell us a story,"

"Yes Sultana, a ghost one." Babloo screams.

I slap Babloo on his arm, for it is him who wakes up to cry at night, when scared. Babloo gets up from my side and sits on Sultana's lap.

"Sultanaa, please a ghost story."

Sultana has abundance of ghost stories. Sometimes I feel she carries an invisible bag of stories on her head. She claims that all her stories are true and real.

"No, no, no, you children go to sleep now, tomorrow is school."

"No... Please." I plead and then see her eyes roll up as if searching for her story in the bag and clears her throat to speak.

"This is a story of a long time ago, before my father and his father but his father.

"So this is a story about your great grandfather?" I count on my fingers and proudly blurt.

Sultana frowns her thick eyebrow into two parallel lines and then continues.

"A long time ago my par grandfather lived in a village in India. It was before the partition and when all lived in peace. He had a farm, with lots of hens, cockerels, and ducks.”

"Even small baby chicks?" I ask her interrupting the story.

"Yes, yes," Sultana speaks again. I want to ask about my baby chicks. They had disappeared from the cage a week ago.

"Okay Razia baby, don't stop me again otherwise, I will send you to bed.”

Babloo pulls my finger and I understand what he means.

"So it was a farm, but one morning, when my par grandfather woke up to say his prayers he found the farm in a mess. It was as if a hurricane had come, cages broken, pond dirtied, fences all around the house were flat on the ground. It took my par grandfather and par grandnani a whole day to clean up the feathers on the ground and loose hinges on the cages. Their children helped too, but it was a lot of hard work. The next morning when he woke up again it was the same; things broken and chaos in the farm. He was very worried and upset with the damage. Who in this village of peace loving people could cause him so much loss? The third day, he and his son sat together at night to look out for who caused the destruction. So at three o'clock at night, with sleep penetrating their eyes, they heard loud noises, as if someone was beating twenty pots and pans all at once. What they saw was a goblin in a ponytail wearing waistcoat and dhoti, throwing things everywhere. Running towards the goblin, the par grandfather pleaded ‘Oh please Jhinn-bhoot sahib go away, do not cause so much damage to us. I am a poor man, how will I live, please don't.’ But the Jhinn-bhooth kept laughing in his arrogant voice and did not stop . Par grandfather stayed upset the next day, but while praying his evening prayers, he got an idea. So that night, he sat out again for a look out. Around 3 O'clock again, he heard the loud noises. He spied at the Jhinn bhoot from his hiding place. When moment was right he sprang from behind and caught his ponytail tight. The Jhinn started to sob in pain. He said let me go, let me go-"

"How big was his pony tail?'

"Longer, than my arms, hands and legs, Babloo baba."

"Was the Jhinn strong?"

"Oh very strong, stronger than your Papa".

"So then the Jhinn started to scream and whine. So my par grandfather set a condition for him that the he would let go of him only if he would not cause any further destruction on the farm and also help clean the farm for a month."

"So did he agree?" Babloo asks.

"Of course, he did. He was in so much pain that he had no other option. He cleaned the farm for a month before disappearing to never appear again."

"Can I do the same to Khairunissa?" I ask. Sultana does not reply to my question.

"Okay the story is finished, now go to bed."

"Where is Ammi?" I ask her again.

"I don't know."

"Syed told me she has died," Babloo says.

Sultana's eyes open wide and bulge like frogs in the garden, in monsoon.

"He is lying."

"So why doesn't she come back?"

Sultana stands and picks up Babloo to lead us out of her room to our room. As she tucks us into my big bed, Babloo puts his thumb in his mouth. We both look at it but I close my eyes and she walks out of the room. I count on my fingers, to realize it has been two months since Ammi has left. I want to wake Babloo to ask what else Syed told him, but I let him sleep.

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

"Sultana . . .Sultana . . . Why isn't there any water in the tap?" I shout to Sultana. Not a single drop is tip toeing from the showerhead either. Sultana does not hear me, she is in the kitchen. I have to go to the tuition teacher, and since I had P.E. period right before school ended, my clothes and my skin smell of stale bananas. I go to Ammi's room to check in her shower. The room is unlocked and dark. The musty smell of cigarettes lingers in the atmosphere. I turn the knob of the showerhead and water splashes down on me. I move backward in a jerk. My foot slips on a loose tile and I fall. My ankle pains me but I am worried about the tile and try to fix it. I put the tile back in the mosaic, and align it the way it was before, but every time I put it back, another moves. I realize all of them are loose. A stench of slaughtered animals surrounds the bathroom. I pull the tiles off the shower floor; I see dried blood on the rough underside of the ceramic. The stench gets stronger and I feel nauseous. I see slices of flesh. I scream and run out of the door. I go outside to the backyard, sit on the grass. I try to breath but I feel I don't have lungs anymore. I try to cry, but eyes don't blink. The stench comes from my clothes and I see blood on my sleeves. I look at the empty birdcage that Sultana has hooked on the wall. It is empty and clean. The small baby chicks have flown.