THE JOY OF COLOURS: #MYFRIENDALEXA

 INDIGO

                                                                       Unsplash

The riverbank looked like a patchwork of colours with clothes of various hues drying on the rocks, vivid in places, and faded at others. Gopal, the dhobi, was busy with his latest bundle. His back ached as he bent over, slapping each garment against the smooth rock that he had created as his special niche. As he squeezed the soap water out, he heaved a sigh, looking up at the clear sky. The sun shone down fiercely, and he was grateful for the warmth that drank up the moisture from the clothes he had already washed. Another ten minutes and he would be ready to fold them in a neat bundle so that he could place them in a white sheet to be distributed to various houses.

The whites were the problem. They needed to be scrubbed till they were squeaky clean and then immersed in a solution of indigo blue which would enhance their pristine whiteness. Gopal had pitched a clothesline only for the whites and as they flapped, hands and legs moving in the breeze, he could almost imagine them as real persons.

“Hey, Gopal, have you finished?”

Kaveri’s dulcet voice penetrated his thoughts and he stood up with a start. His beautiful Kaveri, as vibrant as the river she had been named after! She stood before him, her kohl-lined eyes sparkling, as she smiled at him. She was like the sun, he thought, as bright and as warm. One day, when he had earned enough, he would marry her and live happily ever after.

“Gopal, stop daydreaming! Is my bundle ready?” Kaveri’s voice broke through his meandering.

“Almost done!” He folded the clothes that belonged to the landlord, Ram Charan, and tied them into a neat bundle.

“Make sure you get paid,” he said to her. “He hates parting with his money.”

Ram Charan was the wealthiest man in the village, but also the biggest miser. He squeezed his tenants dry, compelling them to pay for all repairs, sometimes twice over. Since he owned most of the houses in the village, they had no other choice but to pay up. Most were labourers and daily wage earners who could not afford to build a home for themselves.

Kaveri sashayed off with the bundle, aware that Gopal was looking at her. She was not coquettish by nature, but she was in love with Gopal, and she waited for the day when she would be married to him, and they would live in a little house of which she would be the mistress.

Ram Charan was sitting outside on the porch of his house.

“Kaveri, do you grow more beautiful every day or are my eyes deceiving me?” he chortled. He enjoyed flirting with the village damsels as long as his wife was not within earshot.

Kaveri tossed her head.

“Maybe you should call your wife and repeat that question, “she said in a loud voice, glancing towards the inner room of the house.

“Hey, no need of that! I was only joking!” Ram Charan said softly, casting a worried glance behind him. His face darkened as he watched her leave.

Having received the payment for the clothes, Kaveri made her way back to her tiny house where she lived with her mother and younger sister, Rachna.

Her mother had made rotis and potato, and she placed a plate of it before her elder daughter, with an onion on the side.

“Kaveri, Mohan had come earlier asking for his payment. He was apologetic but said that we had to pay him for three months of groceries. He wondered if we could pay him at least a token amount.”

Mohan, the grocer, was in love with Kaveri. He had made overtures to her, hinting that he hoped to marry her. However, Kaveri kept rebuffing him. His fascination for her ensured, however, that they got their groceries on credit. She was surprised that he had raised the issue of payment now. Maybe, it was because he had heard about her and Gopal.

Gopal had just finished soaking his whites in indigo. They sparkled like a washing advertisement on television. He smiled, as he hummed, “Washing powder Nirma…” under his breath. No one could make the clothes look as clean as he could. Was it in the strokes he applied, or was it because he enjoyed the whole process of pounding the dirt out and making every garment pristine? Maybe it also had to do with his upbringing, when his grandmother, God bless her soul, had regaled him with stories of good winning over evil – the tales of Krishna and Rama, the avatars of Lord Vishnu. With sound good sense she had added, “It is like washing clothes – removing the dirt on them.”

From that time onwards, he felt that what he did was a metaphor for turning evil into good. No little spot escaped him, and he would spend hours washing it out, stopping only when it had disappeared. No wonder then, that he was the most sought-after dhobi, and he took great pride in the fact.

Then, one evening, all pandemonium broke out.

Kaveri and Rachna had been walking home one evening when a couple of assailants pounced on them. There were three men, and since it was twilight, it was difficult to distinguish them. They had covered their faces and the leader had disguised his voice as he barked orders to the others.

“Grab them and tie their hands up,” he said in a guttural voice. As the girls attempted to scream, they were gagged and dragged along to a deserted barn. Kaveri tried to signal to her sister, but Rachna was too terrified to respond. Eyes closed, she kept whimpering.

The men were muttering amongst themselves. Kaveri thought she heard Ram Charan’s name being mentioned. Before she could react, one of the men grabbed her. As he tried to kiss her, she butted him with her head as hard as she could. He slapped her hard and she lost her balance, hitting her head against the wall.

When Kaveri regained consciousness, it was dark in the room. Her head was aching, but she tried to look around her. When her eyes got used to the darkness, she could see a figure lying against the wall in front of her. She tried to get up, but a bout of dizziness overcame her.

When she finally crawled towards the prone figure, she was horrified to see that it was Rachna. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be hardly breathing.

“Rachna, Rachna, wake up!” she whispered, shaking the girl frantically. Rachna’s eyes remained closed. Kaveri got to her feet with difficulty and hobbled to the tiny window. It was dark outside. There was a breeze blowing and she could see the village lights at a distance. She shook her head, trying to keep her chaotic thoughts in order. There was a deep dread within her mind.

What had the men done to Rachna and to her?

There was a groan behind her. She rushed over to Rachna, whose eyes had fluttered open.

“Rachna, my dear, I am here!”

Rachna stared at her for a moment and then her expression cleared.

“Kaveri…,” she whispered.

“We need to get out of here at once. Can you walk?”

Slowly, she helped the other girl to her feet. There was blood on her white kurta, blood that seemed to have seeped out during the struggle. May it not be anything more, Kaveri prayed silently.

The local doctor examined them in silence.

“Dr. Sajan…?” Kaveri’s voice was apprehensive.

He shook his head. “No harm done!” He smiled at her relieved face.

It was as if a huge weight had rolled off her chest. Rachna was untouched, and so was she.

Gopal was irate. “Kaveri, how dare these men abduct you both? Who are they anyway?”

“I think I heard one of them mention Ram Charan,” she replied.

Gopal wanted to go over and interrogate Ram Charan right away. However, Kaveri shook her head. “Let it go, Gopal. Luckily they did not harm us.”

“We must make sure they do not do it again,” he retorted. “These men feel that the village girls are their personal property.”

However, the matter was dropped. Gopal was like a shadow. He went everywhere with Kaveri, and soon, he proposed to her, not only because he loved her but so that he could be a protector to the entire family.

Kaveri sat by the window looking at the railway track that shone silver in the moonlight. She turned to Rachna, her eyes filled with concern.

“Are you feeling fine, child?” she asked.

Rachna nodded, her hands curled over her stomach, as though trying to protect the little life within, a consequence of the attack on them. She had been unconscious at the time.

It had only been weeks later when they sensed the cover-up. Kaveri had immediately guessed the identity of one of the perpetrators.

 “You and your accomplices need to confess your crime. It was an act of cowardice to rape her while she lay unconscious.”

He had protested. “I have no idea what you are talking about. How dare you accuse me and my friends of the crime? For all we know, your sister must have had a secret lover!”

Finally, she broke through his defences when she threatened to talk to his family.

“Do whatever you have to do,” he said in desperation. “They will not believe you anyway. You have no proof. There were two others with me after all!”

The moment he spoke, he realized he had made a grave error. Kaveri pounced on it immediately.

“I am going to the police right away. I have your name. They will get the other two names out of you as well.”

He succumbed to her pressure and promised her that he would do the right thing. He wanted a couple of days to set his affairs in order and Kaveri agreed. Much to her chagrin, he reneged on his promise.

 The body lay by the side of the railway track. It had been crushed by an approaching train and was almost unrecognizable. The police had already cordoned off the area and covered the corpse with a while sheet. Was it suicide? Or an accident? The villagers huddled around in shock. This was an unfortunate death. The man had been highly respected in the village.

As the ambulance made its way towards the clearing, the family of the man sat around, wailing as they beat their breasts.

“How could he have fallen on the track?” sobbed his distraught mother as her husband tried to comfort her. The man’s two siblings stood around, two monuments of despair. The whole village was cast in gloom at the death.

“How will we live without you, dearest Sajan?” the mother continued to cry loudly as the hospital attendants lifted the body of their doctor, their eyes filled with sorrow.

Gopal was busy washing clothes when Kaveri handed him a small bundle. Amongst other clothes, there was a white kurta – the one that Rachna had worn when she had been accosted. The police had already examined it and added the details to their evidence file. The new bloodstains would not be noticed, especially not after Gopal washed them away and soaked the garment in indigo.

 I am taking my blog to the next level with Blogchatter's #MyFriendAlexa. You can read all posts at BlogChatter. 

https://www.theblogchatter.com/

#MyFriendAlexa 2021 #AlexaRanking #shortstory #writing community #blogchatter #BlogchatterTea