The girl at the park

It was a tuesday morning that day. Since tasks at office were a little less, I decided to take the day off from work. I greeted my daughter with a good morning hug , ate our breakfast together and decided to go to the park.

Nishka broke herself free the moment she saw the play area and ran towards the swing. But unfortunately there was an older girl , about 10 years or age, already sitting on the swing.

It was a swing meant for below 5 year olds - so I was surprised to see the girl sitting on it.

I looked at the girl a little closely, and I noticed that I had never seen her in the park before. The girl must have recently moved into the apartment I thought. I did not want to be rude to the girl, so I told Nishka, "Its ok dear. Akka wants to play on the swing. Why don't you play on the slide?

But Nishka wouldn't pay heed. And insisted on playing on the swing.

I turned to look at the girl again. She was tall for her age and thin. She had a dark complexion and her oily hair was cut short. She was wearing black coloured tights and a faded shining orange short kurta. She had clipped her hair and was wearing a cheap glass necklace on her neck. From the way she dressed, it seemed to me, that she must be one of the caretakers of the little children who came down. Most of the residents in the apartment, who had small babies, had a live-in caretaker for their children.

I was about to pacify my daughter again, when the girl got up from the swing, smiled at me, turned to look at a cute little two year old playing nearby and said  "Keerthu.. Illi baa.. "( Keerthu, come here ) in kannada. I smiled back .

I put Nishka on the swing and had started swinging her, when I heard someone from the back asking , "What is the time aunty? "

I turned back and to my surprise it was the girl from the swing. I was surprised because she had asked that question in very clear and polished english. Maybe the hosts had put her in a good school, I thought.

"9.30 " I said to her and got back to swinging.

"What is her name aunty?" I heard the voice again.

"Nishka ", I said.

But I couldn't hold my curiosity any longer and I asked the girl, "Do you go to an english medium school?"

She nodded with a smile, confirming what I thought. I couldn't help noticing her pretty smile. Though dark and not dressed very well, she looked sharp. She carried herself with surety and poise. I continued to watch her for sometime.


Another girl about her age came to her and said,  "Baaa Bhakti… Slide hogans…"( Come Bhakti…Lets go to the slide.. ) It was obvious the two girls knew each other very well.  This girl was slightly plump, had a wheat-ish complexion, and wore a well fitting cotton dress. Her long hair was neatly plaited into two plaits. Maybe Bhakti stayed in her house, I thought.


"Beda… Ivaga baralla…."( No… I don't feel like it right now… ) Bhakti replied back.

There was a silent confidence about the way she spoke and the girl turned back to find some other friends.

I was taken aback by the authority in Bhakti's voice and I asked her, "Are you new here?"

"Yes aunty, We are from Bijapur, a town about 500 KMs from Bangalore.. "

"The girl who just left and the two year old girl, Keerthu are my cousins," she replied back with the pretty smile.

Read more...

A day at the registration office

"Nishka, come back here," I called to my daughter who was running in all the directions at the property registration office. 

A while later, Nishka began to play peek a boo with a middle aged lady( she seemed to me in her early 40s) sitting next to me. I looked at the lady and both of us instinctively smiled each other. The lady was wearing a faded green chiffon saree, the pallu of which hung loosely on her shoulders. She wore a long bindi on her forehead, her long dishevelled hair was plaited loosely and the plait thinned as it ended. She looked as if she had not slept through the night and her face looked tired. 

Next to her sat her aged mother grimly. 

"We came to sell our land in BTM layout" she said with a smile that betrayed the painful emotions that she was going through. It was obvious that she and her mother were parting with something very dear to them. Also BTM layout was a prime locality in Bangalore and I was a little surprised when I heard that.

"Are you getting a good price?" I asked her. "No, madam, price is just ok. Recession has hit the company where my brother worked and he has lost his job. He needs the money to pay off a few loans," the lady said. 

"My husband used to work as an engineer in BESCOM and in one of the Govt sponsored schemes got this land for a very good rate 25 years back. We would have never sold it - but times have changed, " spoke the mother with her eyes filling up. 

"Who is the buyer?" I asked.

"Some muslim family . They plan to build a multi-storied house here," the lady said. 

I nodded.

Even though I did not show it, I was unhappy that a multi-storied house was being constructed on the land. BTM for me held memories of a residential layout. It was in such a peaceful layout that we had stayed as newly weds about 10 years back. Even though I had noticed that BTM had metamorphed into a buzzing commercial area, I would be frustrated everytime I saw or heard of construction of a multi-storied building.

That day, as I sat in the registration office, I picturised a rich muslim businessman supervising the construction of a multi-storied apartment that would eventually be rented out to IT professionals at high rents. 

I shrugged the thought aside and smiled understandingly at the ladies.

A few minutes later, the ladies were called inside. A group of muslim men and the lady's father discussed last minute terms and signed a few papers. The proceedings were all over in a few minutes and the ladies bid my daughter good bye as they left.

I got a book out of my bag and started reading it. I was engrossed in my book when I heard my daughter's voice, " Anna(brother,) I would like to see too … " Nishka was trying to befriend a 10 year old boy who was completely engrossed in to the video game in his hand. I tried to distract my daughter, but she would not pay heed. 

"Its ok" said a voice from the side. I turned to see the boy's mother - a young pretty burqa clad lady smiling back at me. I smiled back instinctively. The lady looked kind and friendly. Her eyes looked sharp and it looked as if she was well educated. We started talking.

"We have come here to buy land," she said with a smile and a hint of excitement in her voice. "We have a big family and our current house in the old city is small for all of us. My husband and his brothers are very close to each other and we were looking for a good land where we all can stay together." 

It was nice to hear that people liked staying in joint families. I smiled back affectionately.  She was very graceful and the manner in which she spoke was polished and respectful. I was instantly drawn to her.

"Where is the land you are taking?" I asked her curiously with a smile. 

"In BTM," she smiled back. She paused for a while and then said.

 "You remember the ladies you were speaking to about an hour back."

"We are taking their land," she said. 

Read more...