Stolen Innocence

Stolen Innocence

August.2010. Mumbai.Oshiwara @tarabiswal

Entering into Ajala Residency I heard Gopal, the apartment caretaker, crying in dismay. “The verandah pots are stolen” he gave the verdict, “I am telling you Sirji this place is swarming with thieves”. I made a face of despair while going inside the lift. Indeed the plants give you a good head start everyday by refreshing you which made me thinking while the lift moved on to the tenth floor to room no 1014. This Flat was at present “Casa de Tara” has an amazing view of the Mumbai skyline.

Sikander our cook got me my evening coffee after I refreshed. I was by the balcony when I heard him yelling at someone “Get lost”, he shouted “And never again I want to see your face”.  I went to the front room and saw his outburst was at a girl, hardly 10 yrs old and a boy perhaps her younger brother. The bare-foot children wore dirty clothes and carried a lot of dust in their hair. Sikander was now in the intercom and I understood he was about to call the caretaker or the front guard room to yell at them because they allowed the kids to enter. However I stopped him and instructed to bring the kids inside. I checked for some of my old clothes and called Rana my flat mate if he could spare any. I had Canvas shoes which I hardly ever wear as I had bought in the last days of my Masters and now don’t get much time to enjoy them. So I decided to give it to the kids.

All this time Sikander was giving me advice as how the kids are all thieves and now I have allowed them inside the house. I said “They are small children who yet don’t have the insight of treachery. Now don’t be stupid go see if you can make some snacks for them”. It’s like the final blow on Sikander and he looked me in disgust but nevertheless went as ordered. I got few T-shirts and the canvass and put them inside a polybag and gave them to the kids, by the time Sikander made them few toasts. The kids introduced me their name, the girl’s name was Shilpa and her brother’s name was Samir. After finishing their snacks they left. Sikander again started ‘these kids are like informers to the thieves who get information from them’.

After Rana came from office we went outside to enjoy the night life of the blessed metro. It was almost 11 PM when we returned we found the doors opened and Sikander standing outside and beside them were the two kids. I suddenly thought ‘it was a mistake to allow them inside’.

Sikander, “There father had beaten them thinking they stole the shoes, he had beaten them with the shoe you gave them”. I could not help admiring their father for being so strongly against stealing but I did not understand why he failed to trust his own child.

They were still crying and Rana told me “So charity backfired huh!!” and we all went along with the kids to their home which was in the nearby slum. Met with the father and convinced him. He offered us chai and we took it standing outside their small tin cabin as home. The kids were still sobbing in the corner. Their father was rickshaw driver by profession and he went on with his aspirations and his desires for his kids and then started cursing the government, the society and nearly everything.

We returned back and went to sleep. Late at night while I was twitching and twisting in the bed because unknown restlessness I had so many questions.

Who stole their childhood? I wondered. Was it because of people like Gopal? Was it Sikander? Was it their father? Then I remembered a quote I read somewhere, “We human beings, as individuals, are totally responsible for the state of the world.”

Oh my God! Was it I?

“You said it right, Gopal,” I confessed, “this place is swarming with thieves.”