Bhavana, my sister and I studied in the same school and she was in sixth and I was in tenth class. Ever since I bought a used bicycle from my senior for scrap price, we went to school together in my cycle. Arrival of a cycle was a boon to us as the government buses plied less frequently and we used to have long waits before. On occasions they would never turn up, when we had to walk back three kilometers to home.
Twice a week, Bhavana went to a teacher who stayed close to our school for music lessons. Charu teacher who taught music was very proficient, took students only selectively, and strict. During those days, my father, who worked as a fitter in a factory in the nearby town, would pick up Bhavana while he returned home from work. But every alternate Mondays he had to work overtime and bringing Bhavana from her music classes was my responsibility on those days.
That day, her music teacher was in more than her usual enthusiastic moods and was spending more time with Bhavana who was equally matching her teacher’s enthusiasm. The class went on for long and I was waiting for her. When finally the classes got over both Charu teacher and Bhavana spent some more time appreciating each other and that day’s lessons and it was really late and getting dark.
When she was finished, Bhavana got on the carrier of my cycle. I took the small by pass road that connected my village to our school and that meant we would commute one kilometer less. A cycle ride through this by pass would normally be very exciting and enjoyable with very cool breeze blowing over across a wide ridge between two nearby mountain hills all through the year.
On either side of the by-pass, there were mango groves, thick trees, bushes, and some patches of green fields. A cool water canal with gurgling water running down was another exquisite site on the way.
The panoramic view used to be picturesque and Bhavana, as the nature lover in our house, enjoyed the ride back.
I cautioned Bhavana that we ought to rush as there would be very little lighting and the road could become dark. Besides, today was a New Moon day. She said, ‘So what! Even better…. I could watch birds and bats returning back home.” She was the fearless and I was her opposite. I feared darkness. A host of other things too scared me.
Midway it became pitch dark and my stomach churned. Only some street lights were shimmering here and there and I pedaled faster. Lots of fire-flies were illuminating the dark sky.
“Arun, stop for a minute,” shouted Bhavna from behind. I hesitated, but she had already jumped down. “I hear a child crying,” said she.
“What? A child crying in this wilderness! Why do you worry? Some villager should be taking care of it. Let us not waste any more time. Come on.”
“No, I had been hearing the cry for some time now. Let us find out whether there is any problem,” insisted Bhavana. She had already started running in the direction where I too heard the cry of a child. I ran behind her.
Behold! There under a tree, in a cloth cradle, from where the cry came, was a small child, hardly a year old. Bhavana looked around to find out whether there was anyone, but there was none. She rushed back to the cradle and lifted the screaming child. My attempts to stop her were in vain. The baby was already in her arm and she was cuddling the child. The girl baby had no dress on her and she was completely wet. She had a running nose and her hair was sticky. Her body was covered with black dirty mud and she appeared ugly, but nothing bothered Bhavana. I detested the very sight.
“Bhavana, this is too much. We have to go back home. Our mother will be anxious and worrying about us. We are very late. Leave the child where she was. I am sure her mother or father will come back soon and take her away. Be assured.” I told her.
“What Arun? Leave this hapless child here? How can you be so cruel and inhuman?”
I was becoming restless and angry with Bhavana. But I could also understand her compassion and felt she had a point. The place was dark and scary and I was afraid. Poor Baby! I was ambivalent. More time passed. Still no one was in sight.
“Let us take her home. Mother will advise us on what we can do with her.” She already started walking back to our cycle carrying the child on her shoulders. The baby was quieter by now, though still crying on and off, and Bhavana was comforting her.
I pedaled faster and Bhavana held the baby tightly even as she adeptly tried to balance herself on the cycle. Our mother was anxiously waiting, and on seeing us bringing a baby with us she was shocked and alarmed. Panting heavily, we explained how we found the child.
“We can’t keep the child with us. We need to report to police. We would run into problem.” She said worried. Some neighbors too had assembled by that time and raised sharp questions. Our father too reached home.
Sundar uncle in our neighborhood brought his scooter. We all squeezed ourselves in the backseat, our mother holding the baby in her arms. He drove to the nearby police station and father followed us in his cycle. There, we met with a policeman, who was bulky and looked threatening. He questioned us in a menacing tone, but soon became very understanding. Bhavana answered most of the questions boldly and I was half hiding behind her. The Sub-inspector of Police (SIP) too arrived soon. We tried to explain once again as best as we could how and where we found the child. He was very appreciative of our gesture even while he expressed concern that being a rural place, it was possible that the baby’s mother or father ought to have been working in the nearby field and possibly would now be searching for the baby. Realizing that he could not keep the baby in the police station, he was in a fix. Sundar uncle came to his rescue and saved him from embarrassment by suggesting that the baby could be left with our parents overnight, if that was okay with the SIP. He also suggested that the SIP could identify some suitable place for the care of the baby later during the day. Bhavana was quite happy about the turn of events.
Not immediately finding any other solution, SIP agreed and ordered another policeman to keep a watch our house for our safety. However, he wanted to visit the spot and make sure that the baby’s parents were not looking for the child. So, he took me with him in his motorbike while others returned home. However, the place where we found the baby looked darker and deserted and no one was sighted there. I noticed that my fear for policemen became subdued.
Our parents were very appreciative of our compassion for the child. It was almost midnight by the time the baby was given a bath, wrapped up in a towel, fed with milk and put to sleep. I noticed Bhavana taking keen interest in everything about the baby. I slept away. I heard the baby crying from time to time during the night. Bhavana tried to be awake, but she was also overtaken by sleep. Our mother seemed to have been awake for the whole night. The policeman sent by SIP was with us for sometime in the night and he too retired back to his house with a promise to come back in the early morning.
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Next morning the SIP arrived in a jeep borrowed from a nearby station and arranged for sending the child to a children home run by a Sai devotee, we have heard of, not very far from our place. Overnight, he had also arranged for publishing the news in the local newspapers. He also took Bhavana and me to the spot where we found the empty cloth cradle still hanging loosely from a tree branch. They made enquiries in the nearby localities and there was no clue.
News spread slowly and it reached our school headmaster too. He too arrived at the spot. We became instant heroes in our school.
Bhavana was not to allow the matter to rest. She suggested that we go back to the place again that evening and make more enquiries. I was apprehensive, but conceded. I noticed that her enthusiasm was spreading to me too. We met a number of local villagers. We also went back to the children home to enquire about the baby. Bhavana had already christened the baby as ‘Muthu’ and she was very happy in the company of Muthu, who was all smiles now, not even remembering that her mother was not there to look after her.
*******
The routine continued for a week. In between, we also visited the police station and only once we got to meet anyone who could give us any information about the baby’s parents.
One day Bhavana looked so sad and miserable. Someone in the class had told her that probably the parents of the baby could have deserted the child and ran away as she had seen in some movies.
“How can a mother do it?” Bhavana questioned me angrily. I had no answer.
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Thanks to Bhavana’s inquisitiveness, on the eighth day there was some break. One of the villagers reported having seen a nomadic gypsy group roaming and camping near the area where we had found the child and that there were a few babies too in that group though he could not be sure how many. We dashed to the police station and luckily, the SIP was available that time. We reported what we learnt. He lauded our efforts and enthusiasm and promised to look around all gypsy camps nearby.
The very next day, there was some unconnected news. A woman’s dead body was found floating in the nearby pond. However no connection could be made with the child. The body was sent to mortuary in the government hospital in the nearby town.
In another town, the police arrested someone on suspicion and in his detention, he had blurted the truth. Two gypsy groups had had a quarrel about money while camping. He was part of one of the groups. When the group parted ways after bitter quarrel, he picked up another private nasty duel with one of the woman who was putting her baby to sleep placed in a cloth cradle. In a fit of fury, he had severely beaten that woman who swooned and fell to the ground and he left the scene to join other people in the group. Presumably, the woman was not dead and was only unconscious. She ought to have regained consciousness and managed to reach the pond looking out for water. She probably lost her balance or consciosuness and that answered for her body having been found in the nearby pond.
Alas! The poor baby lost her mother, but gained a place where she would grow securely and would have some education, decent food, clothes and lots of love. Bhavana and I visited the children home once in a week to see “Muthu”. Even my parents visited the child and gradually took interest in the homeless children and decided to spend the weekends in their company. It was a nice feeling we all had.