Pretty Vile Girl

by Rickie Khosla

  And thus, several months went by.

  ‘Ujjwal!’ yelled Deepika when she saw her younger brother with a trickle of blood running from his nose, his shirt dishevelled and torn, and his hair filled with sand. It was past 3 PM and the girls and boys had just returned to the orphanage from their separate schools.

  The boy wordlessly walked past her to his dorm. Deepika turned to the other boys in the group looking for answers. She was livid and ready to bash them up unmindful of the consequences, but the expressions on their faces made her stop in her tracks. They were staring after the figure walking away. They seemed to be in awe. One by one, they fell in line and followed Ujjwal to their dorm. No one said a word.

  Later that afternoon, after the wounds on the boy’s face had been washed with water and Dettol, and a more silent than usual lunch finished, Sumi walked up to Deepika and sat by her.

  ‘What are you reading?’ Sumi asked, as if the two were sisters who chatted all the time.

  ‘What is it to you? Can you just go away?’ said Deepika quietly.

  ‘No, I really want to know what you are reading,’ Sumi tried again.

  ‘Bhoogol Vigyan Bhaag - 2,’ Deepika replied, momentarily flashing her geography textbook’s cover at her adversary.

  ‘Do you need any help with that? That Hindi is tough.’

  Deepika couldn’t believe what she had just heard. ‘Why is this monster trying to be polite to me?’ It made her seethe with fury. Her face became red and she involuntarily trembled.

  ‘You want to help me with Bhoogol, you bitch?’ she finally exploded after a few moments. She could sense her eyes welling up, not with tears but with lava.

  ‘Yes, if you want me to…’ came the reply. It was kind and remorseful.

  ‘No, I don’t want you to! If you really want to help me, why don’t you go and die?’

  Sumi seemed to have steeled herself to take that kind of verbal infliction, so she just sat there quietly. Deepika was still too angry to be surprised by the older girl’s passivity.

  ‘You have been the cause of so much trouble to my brother and me since the day we got here. You have bullied us, called us names, taken things from us! Not once have you been kind to us. Not once!’

  ‘I am sorry…’

  ‘Sorry? What does that word even mean, do you know? And why are you sorry anyway? You being sorry means shit to me! If anyone, it should be God who should be sorry to have flung us into this hell with mean and ugly people like you!’

  Sumi continued to stare at nothing in particular on the old and stained bed sheet they were sitting on as the verbal lashing continued.

  ‘But, why does even God need to be sorry? It has to be my own fault, right? Like people say, it must be penance for something terrible I did in my previous life. Or perhaps not even the previous one, but THIS life. It must be like what YOU keep saying all the time. “She killed her parents!” Yes, it must be all my doing! So it really should be me who should be sorry! For whatever evil I have ever done in my life—this one and in all the past ones—I am sorry! I am sorry that I have lost everything I used to have—my life, my home, my possessions, my hobbies, even my friends from my colony and my old school. I am sorry for deserving this shitty school and surrounded by losers like you!’

  She paused for a deep breath. When those tears started pouring, there was a deluge.

  ‘I am sorry that no one thought us worthy enough to take into their homes instead of tossing us into an orphanage like some useless piece of garbage. I am sorry that Ujjwal hasn’t spoken to me ever since the day we went for the picnic. I am sorry that we went for that picnic that day!’

  There was no stopping now.

  ‘And I wasn’t even so crazy about boating that day anyway. Not as much as Ujjwal! But it was my fault that I pestered Papa to talk to that boatwala again and again and again! Showing him how desperately we wanted to go boating, so desperately that my Mummy-Papa had to…’

  And with that, Deepika collapsed into a piteous heap, like a doll so broken that it looked impossible that it could ever be fixed again. Sumi lifted the sobbing girl from the bed and held her head on her shoulder while stroking her back. In a second, she started crying herself, remembering the reasons why she had made the orphanage her home. Their life stories may have been dissimilar, but the denouements were the same. The two girls held each other for a long time, long enough for all their angst and animosity to get washed away by their tears.

  Later, Sumi told Deepika all about the heroism of Ujjwal protecting ‘our brothers’ from three 12th standard boys at their school. The three, goondas practically, lived around the locality and even Deepika had seen them loiter around the orphanage on occasion. ‘The other day,’ Sumi explained, ‘when I was on my way to the tailor shop, those fuckers were on a motorcycle. They blocked my way and when I glared at them, they gave me a filthy gaali. I managed to run away and they mustn’t have been happy about that. Since then, they have been venting their anger at our boys at school—abusing and hitting them, and using all kinds of gutterwali language about us girls too. The other day they were shouting their usual filthy insults and Ujjwal walked up to one of them and hit him. When the others tried to attack, Ujjwal pounded them and kept on pounding and pounding till some other boys pulled them apart. You should have seen the condition of those three animals. Two of them are missing several front teeth!’ she said animatedly.

  ‘And the third boy? Did he escape OK?’

  ‘His left arm is broken!’ Sumi laughed. ‘All their heropanti in tatters! The teachers couldn’t believe that our Ujjwal, such a thin and quiet boy that he is, could have done all that. They blamed the bullies for their own plight.’

  ‘But didn’t any of the other boys at school put the blame on Ujjwal?’ Deepika asked, quite concerned.

  ‘Oh no, our Ujjwal is their new Superman! Who snitches on Superman?’ asked the older girl with pride in her voice.

  ‘Our Ujjwal!’ Deepika smiled at the girl’s description of her brother. There was something even mightier than mere pride in Sumi’s narration. It was awe. Ujjwal had managed to not only win over their adversaries with his brazen act, he had succeeded in commanding awe. And he hadn’t even needed to speak a word in order to do it!

  ‘I am just thankful that my brother is all right!’ Deepika said to Sumi. She spoke her words not simply out of relief that Ujjwal had come out on top in a silly fistfight at school, Deepika was thankful because she felt an immense burden lifting from her shoulders. She had realised, for the first time since their parents’ death, that her brother was indeed all right.

  Ujjwal’s heroic act was transformational in the lives of the Ahluwalia kids. There was a new kind of stability and camaraderie at Innocent Dreams, now that Deepika and Sumi and all the children had started getting along. Good behaviour in front of Jasmine Didi ensured that there was peace and quiet for all. For noisy and boisterous behaviour there was always school! That was one place where they could unabashedly be what they really were. Children.

  Ujjwal had kept up his stubborn silence, but he was now admired rather than jeered at. Predictably, Sumi and Deepika, with just three years between them, became friends, close friends. Deepika showed her her one lipstick and they went through the old issue of Cosmopolitan together.

  Sumi was a plain girl who had never been exposed to anything more exotic than colourful plastic hairclips from Sarojini Nagar. But she loved clothes and makeup the moment Deepika showed them to her. Deepika had found a perfect partner to rejuvenate her own sputtering enthusiasm for fashion. Money was in tight supply so the question of spending any on new magazines about films and high society didn’t arise. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t source old and damaged issues from the local kabaadiwala bhaiyya. Plus, there was always TV. Now that her guard was down, Sumi even allowed an additional hour or two of television watching. Of course, ensuring that Jasmine Didi were to never find out otherwise there would be hell to pay!

  Sumi was the first person
whose hair Deepika cut. It wasn’t a drastic change of style for that would have been noticed by Jasmine Didi. But it did employ a fringe on the top and some stylish trim on the sides.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘Do I like it! Meri jaan, I look like Karisma in Raja Hindustani!’ Sumi yelled and planted a massive kiss on Deepika’s left cheek.

  Deepika was delighted. This was high praise indeed. The older girl had just compared her new look to that of her most favourite heroine from the only film she had ever seen at a movie theatre.

  Sumi’s real name was Suman Bishnoi. She had been abandoned by her mother when she was just an infant. Years later, when her father died from heroin addiction, Sumi was taken in by her maternal uncle and his wife who already had two teenaged daughters of their own. There, concealed from all eyes, her uncle repeatedly raped her. When Sumi got pregnant, she was thrown out of the house, saddled with a cricket-ball-sized unborn baby and a monster-sized stigma of a loose character. Luckily, if you can call it that, Sumi was picked up by an NGO and passed on to Innocent Dreams. There, Jasmine Bhatia helped her abort the baby because the terrified girl had been expressly warned by her new guardian that she ‘couldn’t possibly have a future’ if she kept it.

  All this had already transpired before Sumi turned thirteen. The next five years at Innocent Dreams had been relatively stable. Though not the best place for a child, at least she had found a safe haven to grow into a young adult. Over time, she had taken ownership and accountability as the ‘elder sister’ at the orphanage. Her friendship with Deepika was another highlight. But the coming year would not be so kind. Sumi wouldn’t live to see her nineteenth birthday.

  One day, there came news that Jasmine Didi had taken ill with jaundice, and needed time to rest and recuperate. In her place, her husband became a regular visitor to Innocent Dreams. Joginder Singh Bhatia, alias Jolly, was a tall and thin man with a pot belly which rested on top of the narrow waistline of his pants. He had sparse facial hair and some of it had started to turn grey, prompting the children to address him as Uncle despite the fact that he looked somewhat younger than his wife.

  Jolly had his own catering and restaurant business to run, but someone had to keep an eye on his wife’s store during her unanticipated absence, and, unfortunately for Jolly, that un-jolly task had fallen on him. So, along with the maroon turban that always looked too big for his lean face, Jolly also wore a constantly dour expression.

  His first encounter with Deepika had not gone off well.

  ‘But Didi had promised to get two shirts and new pants for Shadab this Dussehra. Even Diwali has come and gone now!’ she said, raising the issue of new clothes for a 14-year-old fellow brother who had just had a growth surge, shooting up a whole foot in a matter of months. ‘He is the tallest one around and nobody else’s clothes fit him!’

  ‘Why are you so concerned? Why can’t he come and ask me himself?’

  ‘Because he is shy. And also scared of you. You are new here!’

  ‘And you are what, the old grandmother that everyone rushes to for help? Why aren’t you scared of me?’ the man mocked.

  ‘I’m not scared of anyone.’

  Jolly dismissed her brusquely.

  ‘Who knew that the husband was going to be a bigger asshole than the wife?’ she thought, as she angrily turned around and walked away.

  Later, when she was alone with Sumi, Deepika complained about the obnoxious man.

  ‘Let me try to speak to him as well. Maybe he will see sense if two people raise this issue,’ Sumi said.

  Shadab received two brand new ‘L’ shirts and a pair of ‘L’ jeans the next day. Apparently, Sumi’s request to the man had been more effective.

  A few days later, it was confirmed to the children that Jasmine was going to be out of town for several weeks to recuperate. She’d been staying with a college friend in the fresh air of Darjeeling.

  ‘Good riddance!’ Deepika said to Sumi.

  Sumi agreed wholeheartedly. ‘But do you think they are hiding something from us? Who goes away for that long to “recuperate” from something as silly as jaundice? Maybe she doesn’t intend to come back…’

  ‘Arre, what-goes-of-our-father?’ joked Deepika.

  The fatherless girls snorted with laughter.

  ‘But seriously, what to make of this bastard that she has installed in her absence?’ Deepika asked.

  ‘Oh, he’ll be fine.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘He is easier to control,’ Sumi said mysteriously amid giggles. There was something in her tone Deepika didn’t like one bit.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Nothing, baba! All I am saying is that he’s a man. That’s all!’

  That cryptic explanation, but with its very clear connotations, did not reassure Deepika at all. She decided that she needed to keep an eye on Sumi to prevent her from doing something foolish.

  Three months later and Jasmine had still not returned from Darjeeling. Deepika was frantic but certainly not out of any love for the nasty witch. She was worried about what Sumi was doing in her absence.

  ‘Eww! But he is so old!’ Deepika complained when Sumi showed her a pair of silver bangles Jolly had bought her, even though the shiny accessories embellished the rather plain-looking girl quite a bit.

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Are you mad? What does he want you to do in return for this bloody hundred rupees worth of trinkets?’

  ‘Nothing, yaar! Don’t get so melodramatic! And if you must know, he is only thirty five years old. Not eighty!’

  ‘He wants to, you know, do… that thing… with you, you stupid moron! That is all that the old bastard wants from you!’

  ‘He is a nice man. He only gave me this because he likes me.’

  ‘Well, now that he has made you happy, you just wait and watch what he is going to ask for in return!’

  ‘Ok, shut up about that! First tell me, don’t you think these are pretty?’ Sumi said, jangling her new bangles happily.

  Four weeks after that conversation, Deepika was certain that Sumi had a deeper relationship with her suitor than she let on. She hadn’t said anything but the gifts that were now being showered on the girl had suddenly become much more substantial.

  The dangerous liaison was going to have widespread ramifications for everyone. In fact, it was going to cause the decimation of Innocent Dreams itself.

  By the third month of her pregnancy, Sumi was in no mental or physical position to hide her condition from her best friend. She felt extremely relieved when she finally offloaded her secret.

  ‘Bloody hell, Sumi!’ Deepika screamed, as her worst nightmare about her friend came true.

  ‘He wants to marry me!’ Sumi said.

  ‘Oh, you stupid girl! How will he marry you? What will he do about his existing wife? Gift that bitch to Salman Khan on his birthday?’

  ‘He has asked Jasmine to return from Darjeeling. When she comes back, he will tell her the truth and get a divorce.’

  ‘And then he will marry you.’

  Sumi nodded.

  Deepika had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  Jasmine Bhatia did actually return to Faridabad the very next day. None of the children were especially pleased to see her, especially not Deepika, who was eaten up with anxiety she couldn’t articulate. After a few gruff pleasantries with the children, Jasmine called out to Sumi and the two women went upstairs to be alone for a bit. The other children assumed it was Jasmine’s way to take stock of the goings-on at the orphanage these past months. But Deepika knew what it had to be all about. Every minute the two were cooped up in the secluded bedroom on the top floor felt like an eternity to her.

  Deepika waited with bated breath for Jasmine to leave the premises. When she finally had Sumi all to herself, she pounced on the girl for more information. Sumi looked sombre but resolute.

  ‘What the fuck did the chudail say?’ Deepika demanded in a frantic whisper even though they
were alone.

  ‘She… she was very kind and understanding.’

  ‘Kind and understanding?’ Deepika repeated. ‘Does she know about you and Jolly… about the baby…?’

  Sumi nodded.

  Deepika stared at her friend with mounting bewilderment. ‘Then?’ she asked.

  ‘I am going for an abortion tomorrow.’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But why? Shouldn’t you discuss this with Jolly first?’ Deepika asked, her voice rising.

  ‘It’s for the best. Jasmine Didi said that if I want to start a new life with a man, I can’t base it on a… a mistake,’ Sumi said, faltering.

  ‘Is that what she called your getting pregnant? A mistake?’

  ‘But think about it, Deepika, about Jolly’s reputation. He is an important man. A baby before he and I are even married! What will everyone say?’

  ‘Was this Jasmine talking or does Jolly feel the same way?’ Deepika demanded.

  ‘I don’t know…,’ Sumi said doubtfully.

  ‘You must speak with him first. You must!’

  Sumi looked at Deepika with a look that bordered between conflict and anxiety.

  ‘I am just waiting for his call. But I am sure of what I want to do,’ she said. ‘There will be another time when he and I can start a family. Once we are married and settled. Maybe even next year…’

  Deepika slowly shook her head.

  ‘I feel like I have nothing else to give him, Deepika. This is the least I can do for him,’ Sumi added, her eyes now numb, and the tremble of doubt still lingering on her lips.

  The two girls sat alone for a long time, saying nothing. After all, there really was nothing to be said.

  Two days later, Suman Bishnoi left Innocent Dreams for the second abortion of her life. Halfway through the procedure, she developed internal complications. Despite the frantic efforts of the medical staff at the clinic, she passed away due to excessive bleeding, causing a catastrophic failure of her vital organs.