Paying Guest

Tara was like a pebble by the river bed, that had turned smooth after continuous hits by the rocks and water currents, yet tough inside.She was in her late thirties and looked younger for her age. She was beautiful but looked saintly rather than gorgeous, owing to the decade long practice of indifference towards everything around her. 

Tara was barren and couldn’t bear a child. The moment this was declared by the doctors, hell broke loose at her home. Her in laws were furious at her. Suresh, her husband if ever sympathized with her, never showed it. She wanted to adopt a child but her in laws were against it. They didn’t want an outsider to be declared as the heir of their family. Her husband paid a deaf ear to her pleadings. It was later proclaimed by her family that since Tara could not provide an heir to the family, she had no rights over Suresh’s money. Since then, Tara became a paying guest at her own house. She had to spend her money for anything and everything she wanted at home. May it be the groceries, furnishings or anything else. Her appearance at any functions or parties was considered inauspicious and she eventually stopped attending them. She thought things would change for good with time and bore everything silently. She was literally shunned by the society.

Tara had first thought that she had strangers in her life and she could befriend them with good conduct and love. But later, she learnt that they were the parasites that fed on her, sucking away hope and joy from her life. Her home was no more a home for her. She started spending more time at office and went home only to sleep. She preferred being alone and happy rather than surrounded by many and yet feel lonely. But she couldn’t part ways with Suresh as that would upset her parents and defame their reputation in the society. Slowly she turned indifferent to everything around her.

She was thankful to her colleague who introduced her to the Shishu Mandir orphanage. Of all places in the world, she had found solace here. The orphanage had around 30 children who were orphans. They didn’t have any relatives but were happy here. Every child here would share and care for the other children. They didn’t have anyone in particular to call as their own but lead a contended and happy life. she often visited the place and brought goodies for the children. She also became a regular donor for the orphanage. She had insisted the children to address her as “Ma” and they happily agreed. She came here on weekends and helped them with their studies. She told them stories. On festivals. When she was not welcome everywhere else, she was most welcome here. She celebrated all the festivals with these orphans. The inmates of Shishu Mandir were grateful to her for taking out time and money for them. Little did they know that Tara had actually found a purpose in life. She had started living because of them. She had fallen in love again. In love with her life. She had rediscovered her usual self, bubbly, naughty, witty and full of mischief. 

Having tasted joy after over a decade, she didn’t want to go back home. The home where her parasites reside. She decided to remain with the orphans as an orphan and approached the management of Sishu Mandir. “We are sorry Madam” said the care taker. “This orphanage is meant only for under privileged and those who have lost their family.”

The reply sent her mind reeling. “Under privileged?” she mused.

“Yes, I have lost my family the day I got married. I have lost the love and care I deserve the day I was declared barren. I have lost hope, joy and purpose in my life until I came to Shishu Mandir.” She thought. “The children at Shishu Mandir had everything that she lacked. Yet they were called under privileged. She had nothing but the crispy currency notes and clanky coins. Her life was hollow. Was she not underprivileged?” She smiled at the irony. She smiled at the care taker of the orphanage and stood up to leave. That was when the chairman called her and spoke. 

“Ma’am. We usually allow only the underprivileged to live here. But since you are one of our regular donors, I would like to put forth a proposal. Since you are like a mother to our inmates and are also loved by all, we will make an exception. You can stay here as a paying guest. You will be charged for your food and stay.”

“Paying guest? Did he say paying guest? Man I have been a paying guest all my life.” she thought. She was happy and agreed. Finally Tara had found a home for herself. She was once treated as a paying guest at her own house, but now, she is being treated as their own at Shishu Mandir and yet is called a paying guest.

Fairy tale

It was her favorite time of the day -  story time before sleep. Chandini handed over the book to her mom. Roshini usually told stories that came to her mind but today her daughter had insisted her to tell stories from this story book. Roshini flipped the pages of the book and the dim light of the lantern showed that it was a story book with fairy tales. “Aha, fairy tales” she muttered to herself.

She loved fairy tales as a child. Mostly the ones where a princess was in danger and a prince charming comes to her rescue and saves her from the monsters or step mother or any other sorts of danger, with the kiss of true love playing an important role. She spent most of her childhood in her dream land of fairy tales until one day when she got lost and was picked up by human traffickers. She was then made a sex worker at the age of 13. She didn’t know a way out and neither could think of any. Memories of those days were hazy and she didn’t want to think of them. She gave birth to her daughter, Chandini at the age of 16. She didn’t want Chandini to share her fate and mustered up the courage to escape from the hell and succeeded after various failed attempts.

She was overwhelmed with emotions thinking of her past and how Chandini was the turning point of her life. Today, she lived in this hut in a slum and worked as a daily wage laborer at the construction sites. She also managed to send her daughter to school. She hardly gets time to spend with her daughter the entire day but makes sure that she spends time to bond with her at bed time with her stories.

 “Ma” Chandini called. “Story pleeeaase. I am waiting.” She said with an enthusiastic smile. 

Roshini kept the book aside and looked at her daughter. 

“Ma! What happened? Won't you tell me today’s story from the book?” 

“I will. I know the stories from this book. I have heard them when I was young.” Saying so Roshini began the story.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. She was loved by everyone in the kingdom for she was kind and humble. One day an evil monster, having heard of the princess’s beauty kidnapped her and held her captive in a cave. The princess was in distress and shouted for help for entire day but no one came to her rescue. Finally the princess was struck with an idea. She took her hair pin and pricked the monster’s eye and stamped his foot with her high heeled shoes. The monster howled in agony. Having diverted the monster’s  attention, the princess fled from the cave and escaped.”

Chandini giggled by the end and said, “Wow ma. That was pretty cool.”

Roshini smiled at her daughter and patted her to sleep. She had altered the climax in her version of the story. She had removed the prince and let the princess save herself. She knew that life is not a fairy tale and didn’t want her daughter to dwell in it. Her stories always conveyed that “when in danger, save yourself. Don’t wait for the nonexistent prince charming. No knight in shining armor will come to your rescue. Life is ruthless."