The Parched City

“Country Road take me home to the place I belong....” this evergreen song may be is often hummed by those who left their homes to earn livelihood in the big “City”. The dream place with the skyscrapers, flashy cars, attractive Malls and of course the money is actually a trap to catch all those greedy innocent rats running after an easy piece of cheese. Both jungles and Cities look romantic on a silver screen or on the cover page of a glossy magazine. But in reality especially for our Kaveri ( named after a famous river of South India), was the innocent bride who had come to this big city three decades ago is the protagonist of this story.

 “ Dulhan , O Dulhan ! Wake up , wake up . Its already three ‘o’clock. Time to fill water”, knocking hard on the door, Kaveri was trying to wake her daughter-in-law, who was month old bride married to her only son Gangu.

Kaveri could hear the sound of the bangles, the creaking of the wooden bed and whispers followed by the sound of the silver anklets like water lapping softly on the bank, moving towards the door. Kaveri stood on a corner as she didn’t want her daughter-in-law to see the face of a widow early in the morning. The moment the door opened, Kaveri took the two empty brass pots along with her and moved towards the narrow street to the public tap and could hear the tinkling anklets of the new bride, following her like a cow , walking after the cowherd.

To her dismay , Kaveri saw a serpentine line of women  in front of the only public tap. She was apprehensive that by the time their turn would come, the water supply might stop. She muttered to herself “ Dulhan could have woken up bit early but who likes to leave the warmth of the bed and loving arms of the husband?”. She didn’t dare to complain, fearing Gangu may not like it .

She often heard her mother-in-law say, “These young women are like vamps in damsels garb. They have the tactics to mould their husbands and these fool of sons not only melt to their charm but also lose the sense of right and wrong.” Kaveri never understood why her mother- in- law was so venomous but now she could understand the import of her words.

Patience was the only virtue all these women who were standing in the line. Young and old. Sarees draped in a hurry , crumpled and and when these pieces of clothes caught the first rays of dawn, appeared like garland of flowers which might have adorned some temple deity and now ready to be thrown in the dustbin. Some yawning, some trying to keep their drooping eyes open and some just sat down waiting for their turn. The only things which appeared shining and beautiful were the brass pots in their hands.

 Kaveri had come to this city as a young bride about three decades ago. All the people in the village considered her very lucky to get married to Mukund ,a tall handsome man, working in the big city where one had to travel by train. Her mother was proud as if her daughter was getting married to a rich man and father was happy that his daughter need not work in the fields anymore. Kaveri too floated in her dream cloud as she imagined the beautiful and happy life that she would enjoy with her husband in the big city.

Long back , she had seen a movie in her village where the hero belonged to the city. He had a palatial house, servants, a flashy car and brass taps in the house and in the garden . She particularly liked the scene where the hero picks up the garden hose pipe and sprays water playfully on his beloved. The only person who was unhappy was the old grandmother who didn’t like the city. She believed that city was a witch who tempted innocent people away the loved ones who in turn are lost in the whirlpool of money and easy life.

On the day of her wedding, Kaveri had a luxurious bath. Bucket after bucket water was drawn from the the stone well in their backyard by her sisters and she felt like a water nymph. The groom and his friends also enjoyed taking bath under the gurgling water drawn with an electric motor pump located in their field.

The next morning the groom’s party along with the bride left for the city. All the ladies were crying including the bride since it a was a part of the ritual but in heart of hearts Kaveri was happy for moving to her romantic dream world. Travelling by train was also a novel experience for her. The green fields, the tall coconut trees competing with the speed of the train, and the sound of the metallic wheels and of course the loving glances of her husband made her feel so happy that she wished the journey would never end.

The moment the train entered the station , she was surprised to see a sea of people fearing she would be lost, she held her husband’s hand and felt safe. Walking a little distance, the new couple had to catch a bus. Kaveri felt thirsty on seeing a man filling glasses of sparkling water on a push cart. She looked at her husband and he immediately bought a glass of water and in return paid a rupee to the vendor. Kaveri felt bit odd. “A glass of water for a rupee!” Water is bought like any other commodity, she was always told that water is a gift from the God for all his beings . This was her first tryst with water crisis in the city.

After all the traditional welcome for the new bride, she was ushered in her husband’s room and before the couple could discover each other, there was loud banging sound on the door. The shrill voice of her mother-in -law ,like a bunch of empty tin cans was calling her. Kaveri couldn’t comprehend the time in the dark room but quickly got up from the bed , draped her saree clumsily and opened the door. She was immediately handed over two brass pots and asked to follow her mother- in- law to this public tap. All these years nothing changed except the tap head which was replaced from time to time by the Municipal Corporation.

Kaveri’s reverie was broken by the sudden fight between the two women as to who would fill her water pot first? Both claimed of coming to fill the water way before the other. There was anyway no third umpire to judge. Everyday these fights were very common. So none intervened nor supported either of the party.

 Kaveri watched her daughter in law and for a moment felt pity for the new bride. Well! Even once upon a time even she was new and no one had any empathy with her. Summer, rains or winter there was no respite for her. She sometimes wondered whom did she marry? The man or the Tap. Only once or twice she was off from this duty. Once when she visited her parents and another time was day she had delivered her son Gangu.

Now that her son got married,Kaveri decided that she would train her daughter-in-law and retire from this duty of carrying water during odd hours. She was not educated but understood environmental concerns. Huge population, exploitation of land , misuse of rivers and growing urbanisation was responsible for this man made drought.

 After her husband’s death, she wanted to go back to her village, but had big dreams for her son’s education and career and she didn’t dare to leave the desert city. Dreams of happiness are like a mirage, a person runs after them but fails to catch.

Suddenly her daughter-in-law called her “Ma , Ma! It our turn now”, she hurriedly placed the brass pot underneath the tap. A little stream of water fell into the pot and than a drop ,one more drop and the sound of air indicating water was over. Both could barely collect a glass of water. The young woman in her childishness hit the tap as if she could force water to come. Kaveri caught her hand and both of them stoically walked back to their home. This had happened at least the tenth time after the new bride came in her life ! But whom to blame?

Gangu was still sleeping and both the women tiptoed in the house. Kaveri for a moment envied her son, for sleeping with least care to the problems that the women were facing. She felt, one more man made problem was this gender inequality. She wondered how they would survive the entire day without water.

That night, Kaveri  slept restlessly, looking at the clock frequently so has not to miss the time and decided to wake up by 2 am to fetch the water. She didn’t have the heart to wake up her daughter in-law but there was no option. She was no more young to carry two brass pots all alone.

Hesitantly , she knocked the bedroom door and waited. No response! once again her knuckle reached the tin door but suddenly with force the door opened and Gangu  was standing , with a look of disgust and unexplained hatred. Kaveri felt very small and before she could say something, the door slammed on her face. She felt as if someone had slapped her.

Wiping her tears and with parched throat she moved towards the narrow street with her two brass pots. Luckily she could get water , and was happy that her son would get plenty of water to drink. Tears flowed freely mixing in the water but the gentle heart could take neither the insult nor the burden of the heavy pots. Her thin body collapsed, the brass pots rolled down spreading the water on the mud road , and the poor soul struggled to leave the body and the wretched city forever.