Part 12

“Bijoy...!” Grumpy called and Bijoy got up with a jerk.  He left Dhaatri at the fountain and ran towards Grumpy.  They had a long conversation with Bijoy shaking his head dejected.

“No!” he said.  Grumpy placed his hand on Bijoy’s shoulder and said, “I need some time...!” he barged inside again to have a word with the head.  Bijoy couldn’t stop his tears.  He came and lifted dhaatri hugging her tightly.  “Why?” Dhaatri wiped off his eyes.  “Baghiraa!” she giggled.  “You are as black as my baghiraa! I love Baghiraa.” She started singing.  “Jungle jungle baat chali hain, pata chala hain....!” The lady sitting in the lounge smiled.  Bijoy didn’t understand the reference but knew she called him black.  He was black; as black as a charcoal.  He gave her a broad smile, showing his pink gums and bright white teeth.  She smiled back. 

“Let us go!” Grumpy came out and ordered.  “Let us go!” came a child’s voice with the same arrogant tone.  Grumpy didn’t bother.  He marched out of the building and others followed.  They were heading back to the hotel.  Grumpy and Bijoy were having a heated discussion when Bijoy wiped off his eyes often.  Dhatri was confused.  She looked at the lady who was very serious and was holding Dhatri tightly. 

“Shout! Ok?” Grumpy for the first time talked to Dhatri kneeling down.  Dhatri looked scared when Grumpy held her and stopped her from going to Bijoy.  He held her back, sat on the floor and putting his hands on her shoulder said, “Go inside...and Shout, ok?” she didn’t understand but looked at him opening one eye.  He got up immediately and signalled Bijoy.

“Baby,  Aawaj do.  Agar ...!” he swallowed hard looking away.  Grumpy pushed Dhatri inside and closed the door.  They both pressed their ears to the door trying to hear something... The room was soundproof.

Dhatri went inside and turned into a statue.  She locked her fingers behind her head taking a look around.  The air conditioned room had a huge table and several chairs.  A narrow eyed, snubbed nosed, red cheeked person was looking at her from his half closed eyes.  She paid no attention to him and occupied a swivel chair, turning it to revolve around.  “hi hi..!” she grinned and sat on the chair comfortably revolving. 

“Kid..!” the person called.  She looked at his red face.  She looked back at the closed door and got down from the chair to run away.  “No use! It is locked!” said the man gesturing her to come nearer.  She clutched the chair.  “No!” she shook her head taking steps backward.  The man got up and approached her.  She was scared to the core.  The man bent over.  She opened her mouth and “Awnaw......!” she started crying loudly.  The man placed his hand on her mouth and she chocked.  He held her hand and placed it on his shoulder.  She suddenly stopped crying. She closed her eyes.  “You are not well....!” she said going into some kind of trance.  Her hands twitched.  He held her hand and walked towards his chair.  She was dragged, her eyes closed. 

The door banged open and Grumpy was at the door.  “What are you doing Kiddy?” he yelled leaping forward and grabbed her.  Her eyes were closed.  Her body temperature was rising, her fingers were moving on the snub nosed red man.  Grumpy lifted her up and she opened her eyes.

“He is not well...!” she spoke hypnotized.  “So are you!” grumpy shook her.  “You have fever...!” he said touching her forehead.  “She can’t even cure herself.. how can you..?” he threw a disgust at the red faced person and marched out lifting her.  Bijoy was waiting.  He took her and dashed out of the office, into the lift, down in the lawns outside the building.

“You have to either kill her or I will recruit her!” the red faced man said sternly to the Grumpy man.  “She is just a Kid” said Grumpy weakly.  He knew his defence was weak.  Her time was over! He looked up after a while and said, “I will send her to the camp...!”

“Good!” came a reply and Grumpy came out. 

Bijoy, the lady and Grumpy returned to the hotel and had a very long serious meeting.  Dhatri didn’t understand anything.  The language was alien to her.  She only kept looking at their faces.  Bijoy was frequently wiping off his eyes and the grumpy looked grumpier.  Dhatri sat on Bijoy’s laps and wiped off his eyes.

“Don’t cry, good boy!” she kept saying patting on his back.  Their journey back to camp started.  At night fall they were in the dense forest of bastar and Grumpy stopped the car.  Bijoy nodded and picked up his sack with Dhatri’s clothes in it and lifted sleeping Dhatri.  The lady got down from the car and packed Dhatri on the back of Bijoy with the sheet.  Bijoy disappeared in the jungle and Grumpy sighted heavily.  “I won’t let a kid to be killed like that!” he looked at the lady starting the car engine.

Bijoy knew every cattle route in the jungle.  He walked through the tall lush green trees in the moonlight for a long time.  He was deep into the dense forest.  He had to spend the night in the tribal village. 

He was walking into kengar valley to reach Goriyapal, a tribal village for shelter.  He ran through the jungle carrying drugged Dhatri on his back. 

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Dr. Salil stopped dead before entering the morgue in Chandrapur District Civil Hospital.  A police kept his hand on his shoulder and he came back to senses.  Dayal chacha had no courage to go in the refrigerated room.  He sat outside losing all his energy.  Dr. Salil entered the moratorium holding his breath.  The wardboy drew the drawer and a body of a small child appeared covered with shabby sheet.   Dr. Salil took a step back not wanting to look at the face of the dead body.  “No!” he turned his face.  “Please..!” the police officer pleaded.  He gathered his courage and looked at the face.  He couldn’t react.  He kept gaping.  “No...! It is not her!” he took a sigh of relief and the next moment his face shadowed with grief thinking about the condition of the real parents of the dead child. 

“Are you sure?” asked the police officer signalling the constable to bring in Dayal Chacha too. 

“Yes..!” Salil looked at the mutilated face again.  “It is not her!” he again said stepping back to allow Dayal Chacha to have a look. 

“No.. She is not our Dhaa!” Dayal chacha broke down in relief.  The police brought both of them out.  This was the third time since Dhatri’s kidnapping, they both had faced his ordeal.   They were offered water.  Dr. Salil sat in front of the police office dumb folded hiding his face in his palms.  Dayal Chacha was sitting on the floor hanging his head. 

“We are doing everything possible..!” The police officer tried to justify.  “I know!” Dr. Salil said curtly raising his head and getting up to leave. 

“Let me know if you find anything...!” he said gesturing at Dayal Chacha to get up.  He was totally frustrated with the approach.  Being a very mild and gentle person himself he couldn’t shout and yell at the police though he wanted to.  His youngest daughter was kidnapped and Police had done literally nothing in the month.  Dr. Salil had lost hopes.

*********    ********

Dr. Salil and Dayal Chacha were on their journey back, both lost in their own thoughts. Dr. Salil went back to his peaceful days in IIT Delhi where he loved teaching and staying in that peaceful environment with his wife and two daughters.  When they decided to take a third chance, Nilima was sceptical and scared.  She was already thirty three at that time.  “Will I be able to manage the third child?” she kept asking Dr. Salil.  But Salil was optimistic.  Though family planning propaganda was on its peak, Dr. Salil didn’t mind having the third child.  He hoped for a boy, this time.  His aunty Maasi Maa had promised to come for the help during that time.  Everything went on well.

To Dr. Salil’s disappointment, Nilima delivered a girl child for the third time, despite all the vrats and pooja’s for a boy child.  Maasi maa was so out of her mind hearing the girl’s arrival, that she left for Chandrapur the next day without even bothering about the small kids, her nephew and daughter in law, who had just delivered a baby.  Disha grew up by ten years within one day.  She took care of her younger sister Dharini and Dr. Salil managed somehow. 

Nilima developed a small blister on her right breast and within a span of four days it grew into abscess.  Doctors advised her to avoid breast feed with her right breast.  She was in pain.  The baby was crying.  She didn’t know what to do.  The baby was frantically sucking her left breast in vain.  The worries and tension affected her milk secretion. 

Dhatri was sucking the breast trying to suck in the milk in vain.  There was no milk.  Nilima was trying to stop her tears from rolling down her cheeks.  Suddenly Dhatri stopped crying holding Nilima’s other breast with her hand.  Nilima felt warmth in her right breast.  Dhatri’s tiny hand had rested on her abscess.  The hand moved as Dhatri’s temperature grew.  Nilima looked on speechless.  She forgot to scream or take out Dhatri’s hand from the abscess.  She felt warmth entering her body and her abscess became a hot boil.  Dhatri jerked and started crying loudly.  Disha and Salil came in running.  Nilima was shocked.

“Salil...She has fever!” she somehow managed to utter.  She had kept Dhatri on the bed clutching her breast.  Her abscess which had turned into a hot boil had burst and the puss was oozing out.  Dr. Salil ran to call the doctor.

“Oh! It is clearing without a medicine!” Doctor seemed to be happy.  “The abscess is clearing out.  This is great! We couldn’t give strong medicines as she was breast feeding...!” Her abscess had cleared miraculously and Nilima was feeling much better.

Dhatri was kept in an incubator for her recovery.  She had a fever and was recovering.  Doctors just wanted to keep her under observation. 

That was the first time Nilima had a hint of Dhatri’s power.  “Dhatri cleared the abscess... “ she kept saying.  No one paid any attention to it.

But that was not the only time Dhatri displayed her ability.  Dharini had found out about it soon, as she was the closest to the baby.  She always used to be around the baby. When Dhatri was around six months, she had cured a wound of Dharini.  

“Mamma,  why are you putting that cream? Go to Dhaa, she will cure it!” said Dharini once, when boiling splashed on Nilima’s hand. 

“What?” exclaimed Nilima in disbelief. “Yeah! She does that!” said Dharini showing her healed wound on her elbow.  “See?”