A LADY FROM THE WILD
When I
switched on my laptop, on the desktop was written: This is a fiction. Any
resemblance to the real life story of any person—dead or alive—is purely
unintentional.
1
MR.
ADAMS carefully double locked his hotel room so that no one would come in. The
timekeeper on the wall showed 3 A.M.
Restlessly,
he walked around the room and switched on the hotel TV set. The old TV roared. He hit the side of the TV
with a hard force (as instructed by the hotel boy the night before) and the TV
tuned in to crystal clear pictures and gentle voices. He sat on the sofa with
the remote control in hand and listened to the splattering sounds of water in
the attached bathroom.
He still
wondered: Where did the lady come from?
Would he report to the hotel manager? Would he be in danger, keeping her?
His mind
was fighting with a thousand and one questions. And then he thought: It would be better to keep her safe in his
room. He would ask her everything. Let him help her in all his capacities. Those
positive thoughts calmed him down a little.
The
bathroom’s door opened slowly. And she came out. Beneath her drenched hairs,
she opened the eyes of an emerald, but drenched in fear and tiredness. Her nape
and arms were fair, oddly blotted by deep thorn-marks, probably inflicted by jungle
bushes. She wrapped around the hotel’s towel and he could see the perfect sleek
legs, sculpted none other than by God. She was still shivering in fear and sat
on the opposite wooden chair. She did not look at Adams, and with an apologetic
act of trying to overcome hysteria, she looked at the walls.
Who will not be sorry to walk into the
hotel room of an unknown man at 3 in the morning?
Destiny
slaved human. And under its constant push, we cannot choose what we want or
don’t. Sometimes destiny makes us weird and funny by putting us on a place where
we would endlessly wander “why”? So was she!
Mr. Adams
asked, “What is your name, lady?”
She
answered with a dry throat, “Rebecca.” She nervously bit her dry lips and
cowardly looked at the eyes of Adams. He passed her a water bottle and she
drank like a child. Adams slowly rose from his seat, pulled out the spare
blanket and gave it to her.
2
MR.
ADAMS was a tall, handsome and a dandy bachelor. He had a smoky brown eyes
stamped to perfection by his pointed nose. His friends used to say, “You have
got that gene of a model.” He was interested in designer’s dresses, and most of
his readings were about fashions. He rented a luxurious apartment in the city,
full with brochures and catalogue of newly designed dresses, ready to get launched
in the market. Parallel to his looks he was successful, too.
He
completed his B. Tech at the age of 25 and had such a demanding credential that
he was invited by many reputed companies. After weighing all the available
options, he chose a job that would involve lots of traveling, to suit his
inborn spirit. By nature, he would become irritated, restless when he confined
in the same place for a week or two. He was
governed by his undying passion of seeing places, eating different foods,
meeting cultures and people of different cities and villages. And that always
governed his choices in life.
He
always carries a small notebook and would jot down his varied experiences. He
believes in the saying, “Writing makes a man perfect.” Every time when he
thinks about his future, he would see himself as an old man, sitting on a rusty
chair, scribbling down his old adventures. He believed the time for perfection
is “old age” and that is the time for writing.
He did
not believe in romance and love no more; he said he was badly built for any of
them. While he was in class X, he had experienced some sort of feelings that
could have been love. He had an untamable feeling for his classmate Lucy. That
year coincides with the study of the poem “Lucy” by William Wordsworth in their
English syllabus.
“SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love…….
The
young Adams memorized the whole poem for Lucy. Whenever he dictated the poem,
Lucy would walk in his mind—her dimpled smiles, her slightly curly innocent
hairs and her moon eyes. But Lucy was never aware of all this. She had her own likes,
dislikes, desires and tastes, and Adams was certainly not in all of those. He
was just not in her world. Just before the end of the final exam, he told her
that he loves her. And the next second, Lucy slapped him, calling him, “You
useless moron! Get lost.” After many years since that incident, what Adams
learnt was that Lucy tied a knot with her childhood love, Mr. John.
Now
that he was rather a successful bachelor, he got many proposals from the
“Charming Gender.” He deactivates his “Facebook” account because he was annoyed
after getting many friend requests. It made him engrossed into more adventures.
3
With
the turn of the new Financial Year, his company involved in more investments to
expand its profits and started to invest in petroleum exploration. Mr. Adams
was importantly involved in studying the rock formations beneath the earth’s
crust that could trap oil. Vibrator Trucks and Geo-phones (machines that send
sound waves into the earth’s crust and record its echoes) were stationed in
many remote villages and periodic gathering of these data was required.
Like
any other time, Mr. Adams went on tour to a village more than 150 kilometers
from the city to collect these data. He put up in one remote, but splendid
hotel, much like a citadel, overlooking lakes and ancient monuments on the
southern side and greenish paddy fields on the eastern flanks. He could see low
mountains covered with dark green trees when he opened the windows. Days for
him involved going to where they stationed Vibrator Trucks, collected data and
heading back towards his hotel room. At night he would stay awake, reading or
writing.
On
that eventful night, he lay awake, reading on the bed as usual. The time was as
late as 1:30 in the morning. It was drizzling but steaming hot and he opened
his windows overlooking the paddy fields and gentle breeze flew in softly. The
sky was dark, but reflections from the horizons made it partially dark gray.
The only sound he could hear was the sound of the rainwater that hits the
cemented sill and the humming sound of AC.
Suddenly,
a folded paper flew into his room from the opened window and rolled on the
floor. Adams was terribly awe stricken. But he was not a man that would submit
to fear. He got up from the bed and looked through the window, the opened paddy
fields. He could see none, not a soul. He picked up the folded paper and could
see something written on it. “Please help
me. Please….Please…,” with shaky scroll.
It was
natural: he knew that someone was in trouble. It was not a joking act. Who will
play such a silly joke in that exasperating weather? He looked through his
window again trying to capture any human form, and beneath from a thick bush a
shadowed figure walked out and approached his window. It was a woman; drenched
white by drizzles and mud, shirt and skirts torn by thorns, and her neck was
covered with blood stains. She held the sill of the window, hiding from the
projected light of the room and silently begging Adams to let her entered the
hotel.
It had
happened so surprisingly, so quickly. There was not time to love or hate, or to
say yes or no, or to have any second thought. Adams ran to the door and sped
through the corridor, opened the main door of the lobby of the hotel with the
key that was hung by the door during night time. He silently sneaked by the
side of the building reached the outside of his window where she was sitting, sobbing
and shivering because of her wet dresses. He held her and took her inside.
He
switched off the light of his room and peeked through the window again, beneath
the curtains. He could hear furious shouting sounds of men echoing from the
mountains and paddy fields, though faint enough, as the sound of the rains was
more intense. He closed his window,
switched on one zero bulb so that the light could not be seen from afar. The
lady was in a pitiful condition: she was bloodless white. Her feet were swollen
with injuries and her back and skins were covered with bruises and mud. Adams
took her to the bathroom and gestured her to take a lukewarm shower.
4
ADAMS
slowly rose from his seat and pulled out the spare blanket of the hotel and
gave it to her, to cover herself.
The
hotel clock on the wall struck 3:30 AM. And in less than an hour, dawn was
going to come. What is he going to do? He had not slept a wink, but sleep was
taken away from him. Sleep can be taken as the synonyms of peace and calmness:
there can be no sleep under that appalling clutch of the silent, deprived but
beautiful women. He opened the fridge, poured out some milk in a glass and
asked her to drink. She unhesitatingly pulled out her hand from the blanket and
grabbed the glass and sipped down the milk slowly and intensely. Adams asked
her to lie on the sofa and he receded back to the bed.
She
acted obediently, every instruction was obeyed. Adams enjoyed that even though the
whole situation could turn into something deadly. She slowly lay down and emptily gazed at the TV: she was still occupied by her pasts and wondered how she could
escape alive. She felt much safer now and tried to be positive that Adams would
not do anything stupid to let her back in the open.
The
first glare of the morning light penetrated the parting of the curtains, but
Adams and Rebecca were still wide awake, listening to the outside sounds and
thinking about the strangeness of the situation. They were gripped by a cruel
jaw of the expectation of something bad.
After
some time, Adams took his first-aid box from his traveling bag (the company
always provided the touring staff with this kit) and handed it to her. Rebecca
applied the Betadine ointment on her cut wounds and slowly retired back to lie
down. Adams thought that those were minor cut wounds and would get healed in no
time. He could take her to the nearest clinic during the day and got her
treated with the best medicines available. He swore in his heart. He was
enthusiastic like a child and was anxiously eager to see her fair skins in the daylight.
He would take her to the market and grabbed those clothes and trousers of her
choice. His whole thought accumulated around her.
Human
beings are generally good, although the world is cursed by the
bigotries and atrocities of ideologies and beliefs. We fight wars for the sake
of the nation, kinship or peace, but deep down we find ourselves demeaned by
brutalities beneath the veneer of the proclaimed “good cause.” In the end, we
always sighed saying, “Why can’t we live in peace, like brothers.” Is it the
general goodness that creates hatred? Is it the inhuman hatred that circumcised
the general goodness in us? But, no matter how the general goodness be
trampled, it is always there and echoed eternity. And it easily reached its highest point when one is the only last authority to extend a charity, love and kindness
to someone deprived….to someone clad in beauty. And Adams is the last refuge,
the last authority on the life or death of that angel, and he automatically
bowed to his instinctive goodness.
“Where
are you from, Rebecca?”
“Very
far… deep in the jungle beyond those trees,” she replied in a sad voice. “I am
very scared….don’t let them catch me again”
“I
will not let them harm you…I promise,” Adams said.
“Lomas tribe, they kidnapped me, and they sold me to these people. Oh! I
miss my town. I want to go back home”
“Now, Rebecca, tell me everything. Don’t keep
me in the dark. I need information so that I can help you”
“It is
a long story. Three years ago in our town the LOMAS and the RUALS, they are two
different tribes in my hometown, were at war, butchering each other with long knives because
of petty reasons. After a year into the war, the reason behind the war, all the
killings, was more unclear—it turned into a revenge-war, revenge killings. They
killed to avenge their dead parents, sons and daughters. They would abduct,
kidnap their prey and then disappeared, leaving no trace. I was in my class XII
and even schools were suspended most of the times because of the mutiny. The
armies intervened, but there was more killing. After three years of tension,
peace was partially restored. The leaders of LOMAS and RUALS held peace talks,
signed accords and within a month massive killing subsided. But hatred
prevailed within individuals, communities and everyone were intrigued to wage
revenge in any way possible, in secrets. But as peace was restored in writing,
we breathed a sigh of relief, and schools and colleges were opened again. One
day on my way back from school in the afternoon, I was dragged into a van by five strong men. The car sped along the road and I was screaming for help. The last
thing I remember was a stuffing of smelly chemical on my nostrils. When I regained my consciousness, I saw myself with
other girls, of my age, in a small dingy room, all sobbing, eyes red and
swollen. All of us were sulking, expecting the worst with every sound and footsteps
of the outside. We were kept there like that, fed, loved and cared and made us
their play-toys according to their moods. We were trained to be a kind of
machine that could induce satisfaction to men. After a month or two, we were
sold to rich people in the city. An order would be placed by these rich people
to these pimps and then accordingly we were escorted to hotels or remote houses
and we were forced to spend time with them. And then, after a day or two we
would be escorted to our secret hideout. It was a week earlier that I planned for this escape. And thank God, you are in this hotel at the right time.”
5
Adams
was listening closely, and Rebecca was narrating slowly with teary eyes. The
story was so strange to believe it. But true stories are stranger than fictions
and Rebecca was there, wounded and crying, bitten by the razor-sharp cruelty of
life and men, never to be the same again.
The hotel timekeeper struck 6 AM and the whole outside was in full daylight. Adams peeped
through the window curtain, he saw three big men approaching the manager’s
room. He warned Rebecca not to make a sound or move.
The
main guy (as it appeared) was formidably built with a clear scar on his left
cheek. He pulled out his goggles and asked the hotel manager who had just
freshen up and switched on the computer, “Hi! Manager Sir, Good morning”. The
manager without looking much at them, thinking them to be the usual customers
asked, “Same to you, guys. What can I do for you? An early bird catches the
worm. Need reservations? You are liable to get the best rooms”. The manager was
use of quoting proverbs when he attended customers. The main guy politely bent
on the counter desk and said, “We don’t come for reservations exactly. You
see…there is a missing lady. Yesterday, in the middle of the night and
darkness, she ran away from home and her husband. She is a little bit of a
psycho…you know”.
The
manager remarked, “Missing lady? Strange enough to happen in this part of the
county. I see…it’s a sad tale! Having problems with the husband? Or anything of
that sort? Why are you not filing a missing complain at police chowkey?”.
The
three men felt the extrovert manager talked too much: the main guy was already
dreaming of cutting his throat. But they had to keep their cool: politeness was
the qualities required to survive their business. They needed to be smooth on
the outside.
The
main guy, slightly grinding his fingers and jaw gave a painful smile and
continued, “Manager Sir, We come here to inquire if there was anything
suspicious happening in the night. You see…people saw her running this way.”
Now,
the well-learned manager was struck in the groin. He shouted at them, “People
saw running this way? Do you think this reputed hotel is such a damned that a
depressed lady would just walk-in in the night? Do you think this is a brothel?
Now listen and listen clear. Not a soul came this way last night. Don’t try to
spoil the reputation of the hotel, and of course…mine with the story of those
gossip dealing villagers. My customers are all eminent and reputed people.
You leave before I call the police”
The
manager was scared a bit, but methodical in his approach. If rumours spread that a lady from the village
walked into the hotel during the night, he was damned. Only words, spreading rumours would be enough to keep his job on the
line. Lately newspapers were filled with the plaguing of hotels by call-girls,
but his hotel should be an exception. At least not during his
tenure. He was expecting a promotion and reputation counts.
“Sorry
to bother you. Manager Sir…it is just a search. We don’t want her dead. She is
very dear to her husband. If you have any information, please give us a call”
The main guy scrolled his mobile number and wrote his name as Pyarelal. The
manager thought such a scared face and a lovely name. He almost smiled, but hid it.
He
repeated, “I get no information…Mr. Pyar. And that’s it. Satisfied?”
The
three men left completely shattered. They looked around as they boarded the
car. They could smell something, but they were totally helpless to prove the
smell. Pyarelal thumped the car and whispered, “Rebecca…I will kill you. I will
cut your throat.” They left.
6
His
hotel phone rang and he picked it up. From the other side of the phone the
manager spoke, “Very good morning, Sir. Everything all right? Breakfast is
ready? Would you like me to bring to the room or come down yourself in the
dinning room?”
“Please
send Raju to bring up the breakfast. I am pretty hungry, so double the amount”
“With
pleasure, Sir”
After
15 minutes, Raju, the hotel-boy pressed the doorbell. Adams carefully peeped through
the door hole and slightly opened the door. The whole room inside was still
dark because of the hanging curtains and switched-off lights.
Adams
said to Raju, “I got it” and he grabbed the breakfast tray. Raju was surprised.
It was his routine to lay the breakfast on the table for customers.
Raju
said, “But…Sir…”
“Don’t
bother it. Let me serve myself today. And I am not keeping well. Unless I call
you or anyone I don’t want any doorbell sounds. Understand?”
Raju
bowed, “Yes, sir! Yes Sir! As you wish”. Adams pulled out a 500 rupee note and
sealed into his palm. And a prompt “Thank You” followed. Everything went good. In this hotel, the customer is always right as long as you tip
them. You always get the best of services. Adams double locked the door again,
and set the breakfast items—toasted bread, soup, fried eggs, milk and coffee—on
the table and both retired to eating the breakfast. Rebecca was easier now: she
knew that the three criminals had left and they would continue to search her in
the vicinity. But that did not bother her much. She felt she was safe inside the
walls of this hotel room with Adams. All that she needed was to regain her
strength. She needed to stay alive, energizes herself and went home. Her misery
had taught her things, and she wanted to help victims of that war in all her capacities.
What would Adams think of her? A whore, a dirty bitch running into his hotel
room and shattering his world? He seemed to be a respectable person, and taking
her in would bring contamination to his reputation. But those thoughts were
nonsense. She needed to embrace any situation where she could get help. She
should not have a mind to think for others except herself. All people in this
world are in a situation way better than her’s. She did not have time to show
respect, or to plead for forgiveness. She would tell all the truth Adams
intended to know, and eat as much to regain her lost strength.
Adams
ate a single toasted bread and drank two glasses of coffee, while she kept on
munching the fried eggs, soup and tea purposefully.
“So…how
do you feel now? Better?”
“Safe!
For the first time in my life I feel safe”, she refreshingly smiled.
“How
are your wounds now?”
“I
think they will be all right in no time. These are minor cuts. And the ointment
has really eased them up”, she replied.
The
whole conversation was like that between two unknown strangers, abridged by strange
coincidence and then attractions.
7
But then
wanting to “help and support” the miserable rather than love come easy under
coincidence and attractions. At least for Mr. Adams. All that he knew was that
he had to rescue her from those crazy pimps. But at the peak of his mind, he wondered:
Was that love shown in different forms? Or, was that love already, altogether?
It was
7:30 AM after they finished breakfast. His mind was full with plans. He called
up Raju again and instructed him to check around the neighborhood. After 15
minutes he came back with the information that some differently looking men are
standing outside the main gate. The spying work was rewarded with another 1000
note, as before.
Now,
the heart beats faster. He must take her to safety. That was the responsibility
given to him by circumstances. After dressing up they sneaked silently towards
the hotel garage.
After
2 minutes, a car came out of the garage. The hotel manager wondered, “Why is
Mr. Adams setting out so early? It’s a strange world!”
The
car slowly moved out of the main gate, and as expected stopped by the pitiless
men. Adams stopped the car. Pyarelal asked him politely, “Where’re you going
friend?”
He
said, “For work, as usual!”
He
asked, “And who is this lady?” Rebecca was largely unrecognizable. She was
wearing a pair of black goggles, with white Kameez and a respectable necktie.
Mr.
Adams replied with confidence, “She’s my wife.” Beneath the black goggles,
tears rolled out with the word. And then it poured out unstoppable. She then
pulled up the goggles to wipe them with a skirt. The whole scene, then suddenly
turned action packed.
Pyarelal
shouted, “That’s Rebecca!” He called out to his men, “She is in the car. Don’t
let them escape.”
Adams
suddenly sped. Through the rear mirror, he could see three bikes chasing him
with the same speed. The road was still empty as it was early. And speed
competition was at its peak. The bikers were closing up and one man pulled out
a revolver, aiming to shoot at the rear tire. Mr. Adams kicked the brake
suddenly and the bike came crashing against the car and rolled down the slope.
Pyarelal
stopped his bike. The other biker stopped too. He furiously looked at the
“speeding away” car, with one of his most costly assets within it.
8
It was
9:30 AM when Adams and Rebecca reached his rented room. But reaching home could
not wipe out the thought of the dreadful encounters they met with on the road.
A feeling of maximum insecurity was lingering. Even the luxurious rented room
looks gloomy and meaningless. The confusing future course of action urgently
needed to be taken saddens it all.
They
then went to a market. He purchased a pairs of trousers, shirts, shoes and more
for her. It was one of the most memorable times for Rebecca. To come across a
stranger who was kind enough as much as he was a stranger seemed like a fairy
tale. But it was actually happening.
They
then went to an air ticket counter and booked a ticket for the town. At last, she thought, after countless days of miseries, she is
going home. The thought of her town came up in her mind as she remembered as
a teenager: The peaceful airs that blew and then the sudden air of destruction that separated people: the wars and the killings. Everything appeared clear but
sad.
She
secretly looked at Adams and wondered at why there was such an unexpected
kindness in her cruel world. A kind man with a handsome face is what girls
want. And he was! It is every girl’s dream to be in safe hands. She wished he
could be with her everywhere, till the end of time. She wished that he, too went to
the town with her.
But
soon she realized that more wishing only made things more far. Adams silently
drove the car, and were already heading
towards the airport. When they reached the airport, he parked the car and looked across her
and said, “Rebecca, so? Are you okay?”
She
said, with a kind of sobbing voice, “Y-Yea! I’m f-f-fine!”
He
said, “And this is it. You’re going home. In 30 minutes from now, you will be
in your hometown. That’s something…no?”
She
cleaned up and said, “That is going to be great. And thank you!” And she really
meant the words. The words meant for the happiness she would get in her town.
They meant for the sadness she would go through without him.
He
took out one of his debit cards from the purse and handed it to her. He said,
“The pin number is 8XX0. Money is in here. So you withdraw as much amount you
want, whenever you need it. Every month my salary will be credited. Don’t you
worry a thing with this card.”
The
parting with someone who was so close yet so far was aching. She kissed him on
his right cheek. Tears were shed mutually, but were hidden. Two different
worlds could not mingle together physically, and that fact would often drive
one to control emotions.
9
When
Rebecca reached her town, she at once knew that it was much worse than the
worst of her expectations. It was
completely ransacked by the constant war of the tribes. The building walls were
destroyed by fires and bullet holes. Markets which were once crowded in peace
looked deserted. Many houses were left vacant as the owners had been chased
away or killed. She would come across billboards on which were written, “Peace
is the lasting solution” “Stop the war” “Where have all the tribes gone” “Wars
is exterminating us” “Land valued us, but we don’t,” etc. and etc.
She
went down to her old house. It was half burnt and all the household items were
stolen. Her father and mother were no more. She then went to the old market. It
was gone too. On its spot was a big refugee camp, guarded by armies with big
guns. All his acquaintances were enrolled in the camp. She went inside looking
for familiar faces. But all her teenage friends ignored her. They whispered,
“You remembered Rebecca? The girl who left the town for prostitution?” They did
not want to talk to her, or neared her. Some said, “She is having as dreadful
disease. Chase her away before she spreads it.”
She
went out of the camp towards the closest church. Inside, she saw a group of
acquaintances praying. When they see her, all ran out of the church. They said,
“Prostitute! She’s dirtying God’s house.” One man approached her and asked,
“Are you that Rebecca!?” She said, “Yes! And I’m back!”
He
said, “It’s good to see you back. But don’t you ever walk in here again. You
know? Your kind of people should not be walking into a religious place.”
She
asked, “Then where should I go? This is my home!”
The
man was silent and walked away.
10
Exactly
one month after Rebecca left him, Adams received a message. “Thank you for
using your Debit Card 654XX9800 for withdrawing Rs 10000 from ATM
MNC5558886542”
He
smiled and said to himself, “Thank God! You are still alive. How I miss you!” And then a month passed and there were no more withdrawals of money. And then a year passed.
And then another year. All the buzzing sounds of his mobile message were about
something else. Not about the lady from the wild. Not about that beautiful
face. Not about that lady of mercy. Not about the girl she missed the most. Not
about the girl who might love him the most.
Office
works kept piling up. He did more touring. But for the first time in his life,
he lost interest in his adventures. Instead, he felt that life was meaningless
without the buzzing message sounds of Rebecca, and that silence made him knew
how much she loves her. Silence had made the horizons empty, and the whole view
had changed.
Two
months later, he went to a city for his office project. The hectic daily
schedule of the project stressed him out. One night, he hired a taxi and roamed
around the city. He viewed from the windows of the taxi the theatres, the
restaurants, and then the "round the clock" night clubs.
On the
roadside of one night club, he could see one tall, beautiful lady, dressed in
scanted clothes, inviting the passengers of the taxis with her familiar smiles
and face.
Adams quickly told his driver to take a U-turn. He said to himself in his utmost
sadness, “It’s more pleasant turning around than going forward. Even though
they both leads to the same destination.” (To be continued....)
