Where it all began

 Anya Mithra

“Anya! Anya! Your brother is calling you. On the little hill outside the basti (slums).” 

12-year-old Anya was washing utensils outside her tiny shanty in one of the biggest slums of Mumbai. Dharavi. 

The one-roomed tin shed with an asbestos sheet for a roof was their only possession left behind by their parents. Her brother, Dada, as she called him, was 8 years older and she loved him to the moon and back.

She didn’t remember much about her parents. They had died in a fire at the mills compound where they worked. 

Anya was only 6 at the time. Her Dada had brought her up. He had managed to do odd jobs and bring in money. Enough to keep their shanty and to bring in food at least once a day. 

There were some days when they would go without meals. Those were few and far between and even at that time, her brother managed to get a deep-fried bhajji (fritters)  or a cheap bar of candied fruit for her to eat and sleep. She did not have to sleep on an empty stomach.

Life was hard but Dada had insisted that she should continue her education. The little public school sitting at the edge of their slum pocket, right next to the mountain of garbage provided free education. It was run by a Missionary trust and was partially funded by the government. 

She even managed to get donated books, shoes and clothes from the trust. The clothes were sometimes too big for her but they would help cover her tiny frame.

She loved her books. They helped her forget the difficulties of life. 

He never called her anywhere when he was out for work and he never took a break from his work. That’s why he consistently found work. Then why was he calling her in the middle of the day?

“What Sana,” she shouted back at her friend. “What's he calling me for?”

“Don’t know. Tatya (names of one of the boys) said Dada had a surprise for you", the girl shouted at the top of her voice, "I need to go now, or else my Dad will kill me. Bye.” She pranced off.

Many people in the vicinity heard her. No one said a word. It was very common for men in their community to beat their women up. And kids were only collateral damage. 

Anya left the utensils, wiped her hands to her frock and strutted towards the hill in her worn-out flip flops. She was excited. What was the surprise that couldn’t wait until evening?

*****

Palash Mithra (Dada)

He was a hard-working boy. At 20 he had already managed to find a job as a car mechanic. It gave him a meagre but steady income. When he had lost his parents 6 years back, he was heartbroken. 

He did not allow himself to grieve. He had a lovely little sister who had to be taken care of. He came from a family where women were respected and treated as equals. The family where women were worshipped as Durga (a female goddess), the eternal power. 

He had seen better days in his childhood but their family misfortune had landed them in this hell-hole called Dharavi. At that age, he didn’t understand the dealings of the grown-ups, but he had heard his mum and dad speak about getting cheated by their business partner. 

He had no idea of their business, no inkling of what the matter was and he didn’t care. Thinking about it would neither bring food nor money to him, so it was a mere waste of time.

He wanted to work hard and take his sister out of this shitty place. He knew about the sickly web of crime around him. 

Stolen goods, narcotics, human trafficking and everything else that supported the city’s underbelly of crime would find it’s roost inside the dark alleys of Dharavi. He kept to himself and stayed away from it. 

There was money in there but he wanted a clean and decent life for himself and his sister. “I would never touch haraam ka paisa (easy money).” he would tell Anya.

“Dada? What are you doing here?” Anya’s friend Sana pulled him out of his reverie. The little motor garage was on her way home and Palash was cleaning out an autorickshaw’s gearbox, sitting on one of its tyres, just outside the garage.

“Working. Why?” He scowled. He hated anyone disturbing him in his work. It meant lesser money.

“Didn’t you call Anya at the hill?”

“Why would I? Who will do my work then?”

“But Tatya said that you had planned a surprise for her?”

He swore. 

Tatya was one of the guys he hung out with. Palash didn’t have any friends. Most boys in the slums were either junkies or addicted to rough sex. Tatya could have fucked everyone if he got a chance. 

Palash dropped his work and ran as fast as he could go. He didn’t even bother to let anyone at the garage know. Anxious and scared for his sister’s life, he ran. She was his baby sister. He could not afford to lose her.

*****

Anya

Carefree Anya reached the hill. She couldn’t see or hear anyone. There was only silence. “Dada! Dada! Where are you?”

She walked carefully through the overgrown bushes around her. Anya knew no fear. She had heard of snakes and scorpions here but she had already seen and slept with bugs of various sizes inside her tiny shanty. 

She walked towards the top of the hill. It had the dilapidated remains of an old stone house from a bygone era. It was said that a very rich family once lived there, but hundreds of years back they had moved to a different part of the town. The land was now owned by some Trust.

She continued walking, calling out for her brother from time to time. Her tiny feet were cramping up now and she desperately needed water. She had reached the ruins at the top of the hill and was moving from one run-down wall to the other when she heard laughter. 

It seemed like boys. More than one. She called out hesitating a little. “Dada?”

Anya looked around the crumbling wall.

4 young boys sat in a circle with cheap snacks and alcohol with them. She did not know anyone personally but she had seen her brother hang out with them sometimes.

She saw Tatya. “Did you see Dada? Sana told me that he was here.”

Tatya laughed. “He isn’t here but he asked us to take care of you. He wanted you to have some fun.”

Anya did not like the malice in his tone. She had heard about bad things happening to young girls. She and Sana had spoken about it many times.

When her periods had started her brother had explained important things about her body. She took a step back. “I am not interested. I have work to do.” She turned around and tried to leave.

Tatya was by her side in seconds. He lifted her up and put her on his shoulder. He was a grown-up in his early twenties while she was just a child. It was easy. 

She kicked her dangling legs against him trying to free herself. Luckily for her, one of the legs met a spot that made him drop her and cover his crotch.

She got up and shot off, away from the place. The other 3 boys started following her, shouting, “get hold of her, quick. Don’t let the bitch escape.”

She ran through the stones and the overgrown shrubs. The grown-up boys were fast catching up while her tiny legs were trying to get her as far away from that dreaded place. 

She tripped and fell down. Pain shot through her knees as they rubbed against the sharp stones. The boys had reached. They laughed. 

“Caught you!” one said.

The other one held her arm and pulled her up, “Thought you could outrun us? How dare you hit Tatya. You will be punished for it,” he spat menacingly on the ground. 

His breath reeked of alcohol. Pushing the rising wave of nausea down, Anya stood shivering. She tried to think about ways to save herself.

The third one said, “don’t worry bitch. You will have as much fun as us. In fact, we will make sure that you come back for more.” His cruel laughter showed his teeth stained by tobacco chewing.

“Get your filthy hands off her!” She heard her brother’s shout and felt relieved. He was here, her dada was here now. She would be safe.

“Palash! You will need to fight us to free her!” the one holding her hand said. Alcohol giving him a false sense of power.

Palash closed the distance between them and punched the S*O*B. They were drunk and sluggish. It was effortless. 

He pushed the other 2 down and holding Anya’s arm started walking away. Anya was still shivering. She felt her brother jerk. He let out an ear-splitting scream and left her arm. Both his hands went to the back of his head. 

There was blood, lots of blood oozing out of his head. He fell down. Anya was screaming and crying. Hugging her brother, trying to wake his lifeless body up. 

Tatya stood with an iron rod in his hands looking stunned at the amount of blood that pooled around Palash’s head. 

Through the haze of tears in her eyes, she saw Sana arrive with her dad and some cops. Tatya was arrested.

*****