The follow-up responsibility

It all started with a stupid movie. I don’t know what other kinds of men watch cheesy Hollywood Rom-coms for life hacks, but our pal Sahel does, a lot. So, his last years’ ‘new year resolution’ was to take care of a pet. It could have been perfectly fine if not for the circumstances. Apparently, the point was, if you can take care of a pet or a plant for a year and after one year it still lives, you are responsible enough to get into a serious relationship. There can be a hundred questions on the credibility of this claim; but Sahel had always wanted a serious relationship and so he got himself a puppy without informing any of his roommates. I have a general disliking for puppies, babies and things like that, but with this one, I sympathized. He had done nothing in his short puppy life to be treated as a dummy for something so unnecessary. Also, that statement hints a low to moderate chance of the pet not surviving a year, in which case I would have gone with a plant. I didn’t like the prospect of a dead puppy in my flat. Nevertheless all four us felt offended for not being consulted and voiced a lot of reasonable worries about the new resident, but the puppy stayed. Honestly, the puppy looked like a better companion than Sahel himself and none of us possessed the patience to win an argument against Sahel anyway. Atleast one of us was always at home so we didn’t think there would be much problem. I guess we gratefully admitted to owe him this much in our mind for all he spent on our monthly boozes; so, we just named the poor dog Stupid to symbolize the protest and generously forgave the intrusion.

Puppy Stupid has become the best part of our living arrangement since then. Sahel passed most of the responsibilities to others soon enough, as expected. He just pays the expenses and takes him out for walks to show off to any cute girl who might pass by. But it has all worked out this far. As a freelance writer I have a lot of time at hand most days. I don’t write books by the way, I write scripts and most of them don’t end up in good hands (although I’m sure I am also part of the reason why). When days and nights pass unnoticed, stupid helps me bring back regularity in my routine. I love Stupid. Sahel works in Marketing, so his busy schedule is understandable. There’s also Vijay, a teacher and Hitesh, a hopeless aristocrat who has dedicated his all to politics. Hitesh’s dad is a quite popular politician back in his hometown Saharanpur. Their whole family has been actively involved in politics for three generations. Hitesh chose to join another party against his family’s expectation, where his family name doesn’t hold much power. He doesn’t have any particular designation or anything, yet, but he treats politics as his profession; which only means he doesn’t have a job, or an income. God knows what he wants, but he talks a lot about his ideas of a better India. We all rented this 2 BHK flat together years ago, as college students. Kailas joined us two years later. He graduated last year from the same college. Now he is preparing for the Civil services. Forget me, I think even the walls of my room have gotten bored of his face, watching him cooped up in a corner day in and day out. Even Stupid can’t get him out of the house. Anyway, apart from Vijay’s time to time fits over untidiness, Stupid has been ruling over this household unopposed.

This whole thing, the introductions, the story, is not about Stupid though. It’s about the follow-up. So, Sahel brought Stupid home to prove to god knows whom that he was ready for a serious relationship. Then he forgot about waiting a year for the end result of this arrangement and started his search for soulmate in dating apps, again. Not a good plan, I admit, but I kind of have faith in his persistence. We heard about almost a dozen of these soulmates over the year. But we still agreed that Stupid is more bearable than his stupid girlfriends. So, we don’t mind if this goes on a few more years. My personal wish is just for his soppy night-long phone calls in my balcony and loud breakups to tone down a bit. As a single guy in his mid-twenties, both seem equally painful to my nerves. One of these days, one of us would break the mold of this bachelor pad. But until then, our peaceful lives are going fine, or rather, it was.

This morning someone died in this neighborhood. I was busy working all day. Nobody at home mentioned anything when I got back either. It was when I was returning from my evening walk with Stupid when I heard the news. There’s a small Krishna temple near our apartment. A crazy homeless beggar used to live around that temple. People who visited the temple would offer fruits and sweets to the lord and they often gave her something to eat. She couldn’t speak. Everybody pitied her. She slept by the road, or in the sheds of the closed shops. But she never dared to enter the temple, not even in pouring rain. I have heard rumors that she had been raped multiple times. Sahel tried to talk to her once or twice. I don’t know why. He says he once saw her telling a crowd through signs that she had been raped. I can guess the reaction of the crowd. Most of them would feel sorry for her, some would even get enraged by the violation, but they will avoid acknowledging anything in public at all cost. Because it’s uncomfortable, because they know they won’t do anything about it. Some would cringe up or some would think it shouldn’t matter to hapless beggars. Not all people have the ability to be sensible or sensitive. Sahel asked Hitesh if he or his party could do something for her through any of their social service programs. But like others, we don’t know what we can do for her. We can call the police, but we know police would stay out of it. There’s no evidence, no witness, there isn’t one single separate crime. There are likely to be multiple incidences, multiple culprits and if by any chance they could be identified, they would easily deny the accusations. They can’t protect her when it happens again, after a week, or a month. We could contact an NGO, but there are hundreds like her. I have often feel like asking Hitesh, what would change for the likes of her in the better India, but then again, I would rather just wait and hope for the change. I couldn’t guess what her age was. But, she died last night.

I was upset. I was feeling guilty. It’s not like I mistreated her, or caused her death, but as a comparatively privileged (way more privileged, I think) neighbor it’s hard to shake off the uncomfortable sense of responsibility, the guilt of it. I can’t really put a finger on it, but there must have been something I could have provided other than occasional five rupee coins. She had a three year old son, or maybe a 2 year old daughter, I don’t know. She had a baby. Nobody saw a dad. The child was named Felna, which literally translates to ‘something not worth keeping’. Nobody knew what was going to happen to that child after the death. I do now, but I still don’t know how I feel about it. I knew my guilt and discomfort would go away eventually, in a week, or a day depending on how busy my schedule is for the next few days. I felt guilty about that too. But that’s just the ways of the life. Suddenly all my feelings were cut short. I came back from the walk, already preoccupied by my philosophical grief, and I went straight to my room, to process. I called Stupid for comfort. Kailas wasn’t home. I wondered if he knew, or if he cared. Then suddenly Stupid rushed out of the room, so I followed. Sahel came out of the bathroom with a baby in his arms. Felna! I didn’t really need to cure my guilt. But I guess Sahel did. And, I couldn’t be more pissed.

So, here we are. My initial anger has passed. Now I am just frustrated. Kailas wasn’t home because Sahel sent him to get food and cloths and stuff for the baby. It isn’t looking as ugly or malnourished as usual after the bath. She is quite a regular, pretty baby actually. I have learned that she is a girl and two year and five months old. It looks like Vijay has already done his part. He was mad at first like me for bringing a baby home. Apparently he yelled for a bit, then the baby started crying and he left. I am guessing he feels uncomfortable making a call either way and has left it to us. I bet he won’t be coming home until we agree on something and it all settles. Sahel has already visited the police station and the hospital with the baby today. Hitesh has just returned from the municipality office (I guess he didn’t have the face to say no to Sahel after all his ‘responsibility to better India’ talk). I still don’t understand how I missed all this after being under the same roof. The baby was crying. We have fed and cleaned her already. We aren’t going to attend to her right now, not until we argue and yell at each other for a bit. I am relieved, but also uncomfortable. I am genuinely happy that the child was sound and secured, but I can’t take care of her. What was Sahel thinking? Raising a child is not raising a puppy. Just keeping her alive and healthy won’t be enough this time. Sahel seems resolved and determined now, but maybe he doesn’t understand yet that he is basically agreeing to be a parent. Can we really be her family just to be good? Would she even be happy?

We have been going through the same points and the same conclusions again and again. Even Vijay has returned now. It must have been over an hour then. My heart just skipped a bit. The baby isn’t crying anymore. We must have realized it at the same time, when Vijay entered; because, we hurried out of the room simultaneously. The baby isn’t where we left her, she is sleeping in Stupid’s bed, all cuddled up with him. They both look happy now. Our alpha has spoken for us. There can’t be any more discussion. We don’t know what the future holds. But for now, we can be the best family for her. So the best thing we can do right now is to gather around and decide a new name for Felna.