The Lost Daughter of India

by Sharon Maas

Kamal thrust the little girl at her.

  ‘Take her. She’s scared. Of me and probably all men. I told her I won’t hurt her but she doesn’t believe me – yet. It wasn’t Asha, it was her. Her name is Ragi.’

  ‘Oh darling. My sweet. Come to me, beti.’

  Speaking in Hindi, Janiki held out her arms and immediately the little girl leaned forward and swung into her embrace. Hugging her close, Janiki turned away from Kamal. ‘Leave me alone with her for a while. She’s terrified. You can tell me what happened later. And… oh, I’ll tell you tomorrow.’

  He nodded and, gently, she closed the door in his face.

  Chapter 50

  Janiki

  They breakfasted together, all three, at a restaurant down the road, and Janiki filled Kamal up on yesterday’s events and Caroline’s plight.

  ‘So the good news is that she found Asha, the bad news is that now they’re both captured.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake!’ Kamal spluttered. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that last night when I came? I would have gone round there right away and—’

  ‘Kamal, if you remember, we had other problems last night,’ said Janiki, glancing at the girl. She was, astonishingly, tucking into her breakfast with appetite. She had calmed down almost as soon as Kamal had left last night, and fallen asleep curled up in Janiki’s arms. Though she had refused to speak a word, she had this morning seemed to have recovered from the shock of last night’s events and allowed Janiki to wash and dress her. Her clothes seemed reasonably clean and in good condition. She and Kamal had to decide what to do next; but first Kamal needed to know the news about Asha.

  ‘Why didn’t you send round the police right away? Why—’

  ‘Kamal, you keep forgetting we’re in India, not America. I keep forgetting it too. When Gita came around and told me what had happened that was also my first thought, and she just laughed it off. She’d already thought of everything, called the American embassy, who aren’t being at all helpful. Kamathipura is the problem. The police don’t care, Kamal. They’re completely in the pockets of those pimps, and the fact that Caroline is white isn’t any help. They’d either stroll around there in two or three days’ time and enjoy a cup of coffee with the madam, or not bother at all.’

  ‘Caroline’s American. This time the American embassy has to help.’

  ‘I told you – Gita already tried them. And again, Kamathipura is the problem. Try explaining why they should rescue an American woman who voluntarily went into the worst area of Bombay, into a brothel, and see how eager they are to help.’

  Kamal said: ‘I’m going to call Wayne. He’ll know what to do. Caroline said he has good contacts; he knows the ambassador. We need to pull some strings.’

  Janiki nodded. ‘Yes, do that, call Wayne. But: do you really think Caroline and Asha are in the same room still? Surely they have been removed by now? All we can do is hope that Caroline is astute enough to free them both. I don’t think wild horses could separate her from Asha now, and unless—’

  ‘My God, Janiki, how can you be so sanguine about all this? Caroline can’t deal with being locked up in Kamathipura by a bunch of goons! Caroline can’t deal with India at all, much less handle a situation like this! I have to go…’

  He leapt to his feet as if to rush off to help Caroline.

  ‘Wait, Kamal, wait… listen: you unloaded another problem on us last night and we really, really need to deal with this little girl as well. What do you want me to do with her?’

  They both glanced again at the child, who continued to shovel food into her mouth as if she hadn’t eaten in a year.

  ‘She’s so thin!’ said Janiki. ‘So now tell me – what happened? How did you get her?’

  ‘It’s grim,’ said Kamal, sitting down again. ‘They offered me her as a substitute for the girl I was supposed to get, shoved her in the car. I escaped with her. That’s it, basically. All I know is that her own father sells her. I saw it with my own eyes. Her mother is dead, apparently.’

  ‘Gruesome.’ Janiki shuddered. ‘We should take her to Dr Ganotra, so he can take her into his programme. And she needs to go to hospital, Kamal. She needs to be examined and we need to get social services looking into it. If she’s being trafficked by her own father she can’t go back to him.’

  ‘I agree, absolutely. But, Janiki – can you do that alone? She’s terrified of men, and no wonder. And yesterday I kind of grabbed her and ran – must have been scary for her. Look – I’ll deal with Caroline and Asha, and you take her to Dr Ganotra, OK?’

  ‘You’ll be needed, though, Kamal. You’ll have to make a police statement at some point, describe what happened.’

  ‘I thought the police didn’t care?’

  ‘They don’t. But with a child as young as this – well, they can’t send her back to her dad and there must be some system set up and they’ll have to investigate. Dr Ganotra will want to know.’

  ‘Right. Well, when they need me, I’ll come. Right now, I need to go and look for Asha and Caroline. Are you finished? I am. Why don’t you stay here while I run off. What’s the address again?’

  Janiki handed Kamal a slip of paper with the address of Asha’s tentative whereabouts on it. ‘But she won’t be there any longer. I guarantee it.’

  ‘I’m going to the embassy and then I’ll call Wayne. He’ll pull some strings if they aren’t helpful. Caroline told me Wayne’s uncle is a senator. That’ll do the trick.’

  Kamal paid the cashier next to the door and loped out into the morning sunshine. Janiki shook her head. His eagerness and sense of urgency was understandable, but going back to that house was nothing less than futile. Janiki had plans of her own. She’d deliver the child to Dr Ganotra and then return to the computer at Tulasa House. Talk to The Vituperator – who had been unavailable yesterday afternoon – and somehow bargain with him. Maybe he was the key to rescuing Caroline and Asha. She had an idea how to do that. But first things first. The child.

  * * *

  ‘They tried to sell her to Kamal,’ said Janiki to Dr Ganotra. ‘He managed to rescue her.’

  ‘Well done,’ said Dr Ganotra, squatting down to the girl’s level, holding out a hand. ‘Namaste, little one. What is your name?’

  But the girl recoiled, hid behind Janiki’s back, covered her face with the hem of Janiki’s kameez.

  ‘She’s like that with Kamal too,’ said Janiki. ‘She’s scared of all men. Her name is Ragi.’

  Dr Ganotra stood up. ‘Right. We see that a lot with children this young. Can you come with her to hospital? Stay with her while she’s being examined? She seems to trust you.’

  Janiki thought of the computer, but only for a second.

  ‘Of course I’ll come. She does seem to like me. Come on, beti. Come with Janiki Aunty.’

  She held out her hand and the little girl took it and walked with her out of the house. Dr Ganotra flagged down a taxi and they all three entered. Janiki laid an arm around Ragi and pulled her close. The girl stuck a thumb in her mouth and nuzzled into Janiki’s side. Janiki pulled her even closer, and stroked her hair.

  * * *

  Janiki was sitting at Ragi’s bedside – she had now been transferred to a ward – when a nurse approached and said, ‘There’s someone outside to see you, ma’am. Are you able to come?’

  Janiki glanced at the girl. She was asleep. She could go. She rose from her chair and walked out of the ward. Kamal was waiting for her.

  ‘So?’ she asked. ‘How did it go? Did you go to the embassy? Talk to Wayne?’

  Kamal looked drained, haggard. ‘I went to the police station first and it was like talking to the Great Wall of China. Then I went to the American embassy, and just as I was going in Gita came out and we had lunch together. They’re not too interested: seems they think Caroline put herself deliberately into harm’s way and it’s a high-crime area. They said the American embassy isn’t a nanny. And you know Bombay. Sluggish, indifferent. So…’ He shrugged. ‘But I managed to get hold of Wa
yne on the phone and spoke to him. He’s going to ask this senator uncle to intervene, and he’s getting the next plane out. He’s frantic. We’ve not only not found Asha, we’ve lost Caroline as well.’

  ‘I told her not to go,’ said Janiki. ‘If she’d only waited I could somehow have sent you or some other man instead and you could have officially bought Asha the next day. It was all perfectly arranged; she had to go and mess it all up. So now we have to wait for the Americans to act? But you know, they could both just disappear into a black hole now. You know that, right?’

  ‘I know. So what now?’

  ‘What now? Nothing. It’s all a waiting game. It seems that all we ever do in Bombay is wait.’

  Chapter 51

  Caroline

  Up until this point Caroline had successfully kept her fear at bay. It was as if she had worn an armour of invulnerability. She tried to speak, but the words would not come. Devaki, on

  the other hand, was still talking away, her back to Caroline, while sorting the clothing from one of the drawers into two piles.

  ‘These are some of the best shalwars you can find in Bombay. I still call this place Bombay; old people like me can’t suddenly change like that. I think you would look good in a rich emerald green. Kamini would look beautiful in any colour, any style. Look, I have found something suitable for you. I want you both to wash your hair now. Afterwards I will put some ointment on it to get rid of the lice. The best thing is shaving off all the hair but that is too extreme in this case. The bathroom is through that door. Here’s a nice red shalwar for her, but don’t get dressed properly until after the lice treatment.’

  ‘Devaki, listen.’ Caroline found her voice, and though it seemed, to her, to be little more than a croak, it was determined. ‘I told you – I’m not for sale. If those men sold me it was a mistake. I stayed with this girl voluntarily in order to look after her. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m glad you speak English and maybe you can explain to me—’

  ‘I have no time for explanations! It’s quite simple. I work for Mr Rajgopal and this girl had been selected by Mr Chaudhuri who is his customer. That’s all there is to it. You are an older white woman. Mr Rajgopal will decide what to do with you. He might not have any use for you if you say you are unwilling. I don’t know. You were cheap so I don’t care. Mr Rajgopal will make the decision. There are several options but I would strongly suggest that you behave and look your best for him because then you will have a good life in a very good house.’

  ‘You can’t keep me. I am an American citizen. My husband has important contacts. They will come after me as soon as they know and there will be big trouble for you. You should let us both go, now!’

  But Devaki only shrugged. ‘How will they find you? People don’t talk here. This is a huge city. Just behave yourself and you will be fine.’

  ‘You can’t honestly expect me to suddenly become a – a prostitute? I’m an American! I have rights! Important contacts! My husband will raise hell when he finds out. You will get into big trouble.’

  Devaki chuckled. ‘Oh, so high and mighty! You think you are better than ladies of the night because you never had to sell yourself? Better than me? You privileged white people think you are gods or something. You think you have rights? Who gave you those rights? You think anyone here cares about your rights? Well let me tell you this, there are people out there who would pay a good price to bring down a white god like you with all your rights. You are valuable even though you are too old really. Willing or not. Unwilling is even better, but easier for you if you are willing. And—’

  ‘They will find you! My husband will find you! I’ll make sure that you go to prison for life! I—’

  ‘And how will he find me? You don’t even know where you are. This is a city of almost twenty million. Nobody knows where you are. They cannot find you. And you’d better explain to Kamini that she needs to be talking. I expect you to encourage her, then she can return to Mr Chaudhuri soon. She will have an excellent career. As for you, you’re not bad-looking but you don’t have her class – I know of a good place for you but you can’t expect luxury. I’ll have to separate you, of course. Now look… No, don’t interrupt me. I haven’t much time. I have to see to some other girls upstairs. You get her bathed and put on your nighties again for delousing. I am sending a maid with the bottle. You just massage it into the hair and leave it there for ten minutes. It’s a special ointment we import from Germany, very efficient; all the lice and nits are gone afterwards, I call it Devil Juice. When you have done that you are to wash it out properly again, then dry your hair and hers and get dressed. I’ll be back in an hour to see how things are. I want you looking lovely for Mr Rajgopal, it’s all to your advantage. If I were you I would persuade her to speak now. He has a bad temper sometimes and if he thinks she is still being stubborn he might just send her into one of the cheap houses back in Kamathipura. You don’t want that. You’ve been there, you know what the houses are like. Both of you could have a better life but you have to behave sensibly. Then all will be well. So I have to go now. Do what I said and get yourselves cleaned up. You’ll have to wake her, she can’t sleep all day. I’ll be back in an hour.’

  When Devaki had left the room Caroline walked to the window and looked out; she was trying to assess their chances of escape. Her heart sank as she saw that the house was in the middle of a garden, and that garden was surrounded by a high fence of wire netting. There was an iron gate, obviously very securely locked, and two sentries in khaki uniforms sitting on metal folding chairs just inside it, to the side of the gravel driveway, smoking and chatting. Though they weren’t very alert at the moment, Caroline knew that they would be armed, and that they would be vigilant should she ever manage to leave the house. From this window, at least, there was no escape. It was firmly barred.

  Her panic on realising that she had, in Devaki’s eyes at least, been sold into prostitution had settled into a quiet dread and stimulated a wary, high frequency of thought. She had plunged into this predicament without thinking, following only her instinct. The moment Asha had clung to her in fear she had known she could not leave her, never again. There had been no premeditation. It was that maternal instinct, the one she thought she had lacked, springing up in full force.

  Since there could be no escape for the moment, it seemed to Caroline prudent to do as Devaki said. It did not seem as if she and Asha were expected to begin ‘work’ immediately; in that case going along with Devaki was a play for time. Sooner or later a situation would turn up that would make flight possible; until then it would be best to keep Devaki’s guard down. And as far as flight was concerned, she would play it by ear. She would wait for the right moment, trusting that at that moment the right means of escape would present itself. More than that she could not do. And anyway, she was dying for a shower.

  Her mind firmly made up, she walked over to the bed, gently placed her hand on Asha’s shoulder and shook it.

  ‘Asha,’ she said softly. ‘Wake up.’

  * * *

  Her head was still tingling from the delousing liquid. The instructions on the bottle had been in German, but she had done what Devaki said and doused first Asha’s, then her own hair generously, left the liquid to soak in and then washed it out. In Asha’s rinse water there had been several dead lice, in her own none, but it had felt good to know that if any had been hiding there, they were now well and truly wiped out. And she had to admit it – the emerald shalwar kameez suited her well. Asha looked simply stunning – if one did not look at her eyes. She wore crimson silk, the kameez embroidered all the way up a front seam, with a pattern of tiny sequins sewn into the neckline. She looked like a princess.

  Asha had submitted willingly to Caroline’s handling of her. On awakening, she had followed the bathing, shampooing and delousing routine without a word. Afterwards she had allowed herself to be fed, and had drunk from the cup held to her lips. She had stepped into the shalwar Caroline had held out for her, right foo
t, left foot, holding onto Caroline’s shoulders for balance, and allowed the drawstring to be tied; she had raised her arms and let Caroline pull the kameez over her head and fasten the hooks and eyes at the shoulder. Her hair had been blow-dried and brushed, so that it fell in a thick black curtain halfway down her back. Now she sat in the chair with her hands in her lap and stared at the wall, and her eyes, large almond eyes that should have been like brilliant amber sequins shining with spirit, were dead.

  All this time, Caroline talked to her. Told her again and again she was sorry, so sorry, for leaving her behind as a small child. Sorry, so sorry, for not coming to visit more often. So very sorry for not coming to get her, taking her to live with her in America, being her mother. So sorry for not knowing that Sundari and Viram had died and Asha had no one to care for her, for not protecting her against Paruthy Uncle, for not writing or calling each and every day to tell her how much she loved her.

  ‘But now I’m here, Asha. Now I’m with you and I’ll never, ever again let you go until you are ready to go, all grown up and not needing me any more. I will protect you. I will keep you safe. I promise.’

  Asha seemed not to listen, not to hear. But Caroline knew that deep inside, Asha was hearing every word and absorbing every promise, and that deep inside Asha also knew that this time she, Caroline, was here for keeps. And though all of Caroline’s efforts to catch those eyes and fan a little spark into them simply failed, like flies hitting a pane of glass and falling stunned, somewhere, she knew, somewhere deep inside her daughter’s heart a tiny spark was still alight; and it was that spark she spoke to, believed in. It would grow. She knew it.

  Caroline now tried to keep up a lively, cheerful banter.

  ‘Asha, I think it’s going to be all right. We’re much better off here, and if I keep my wits about me I’m sure we’ll be able to get out soon. Don’t worry. And look how clean it is here, and we get fed properly. I think your luck has turned, Asha. But I don’t know how long it will take. We have to meet the owner of this place in a while, and somehow impress him. I don’t want to push you, you can take your own time, but it would be much better if you would speak a word or two – just to keep him from shunting us back into Kamathipura. I’m sure you can do that. Say good morning, and try to smile. Just to let him know you speak English; it’s a play for time because I don’t know when and I don’t know how I’m going to get us out, but I will. That’s a promise!’