Castle In The Air

By Karan Handa

Amid the dense, piercing cold fog, a dusky little girl went hopping like a frog, talking to her invisible friends, dispersing her laughter all around a bushy, unattended plot of land in a densely populated city.

Her mother, Sheila, sat folding her knees as one does in a squat, washing clothes near a hand-pump, which had been put up on the orders of the owner of a huge mansion under construction across the road.

Sheila was a dusky-slim woman, too tall for the people of her ethnicity and too beautiful for her poverty. She wore a saree that had been lent to her by one of the rich ladies for whom she worked as a help. The saree was too heavy for the slim woman, heavy with the weight of all the intricate embroidery and haughty righteousness of the givers.

A short, heavy-built man of dark complexion stood under the shadow of the royal edifice. He was the contractor in charge of the construction of the rich structure.

“I am Bali," he cried from across the road, ogling Sheila. She gave him a vague stare back, unsure whether the words were addressed to her.

"You look beautiful all drenched in sweat; I am not sure though if working around the bushes under this scorching sun makes you feel any good,huh?”

Sheila covered her bare belly with her saree as she turned around in an attempt to deprive Bali of any chance of a conversation. She was rinsing the dishes harder than ever when she realized that her little girl's giggling had grown fainter.

Leila, the little girl, had walked across the road and now stood in front of Bali. Bali went on his knees, "Here, Leila, you like to play with these, huh, Leila?" uttered Bali in a soft voice, almost mimicking compassion, extending out in his hand a miniature soft toy, the sort of which are usually lent for free by toothpaste companies. Little Leila looked at her mother, who was staring at her from across the road.

Bali took Leila’s hand and put the toy in it, “take it, your mother won’t mind," he said. The girl clenched the toy in her hands and whisked away.

Leila didn’t stop until she had moved away from both Bali and Sheila's gaze. She went behind a wall where Moitra lived with her family; Moitra and Leila had known each other since they had known anything and everything. Moitra looked much weaker than Leila. she looked malnourished and an inch taller; her father looked drunk at anytime of the day or night one caught a sight of him.

“So beautiful!” gasped Moitra as Leila opened her fist and displayed the miniature doll with golden hair and yellow skin.

“Oh, yes it is, and no one else has anything like this”

Shh! Papa might hear. He’ll sell her if he finds her out," whispered Moitra as she circumspect. She slid the tarpaulin behind which they both sat along the wall. Moitra saw her father who sat drinking near the clay oven where her mother was cooking Chappatis”.

“He always says he'll sell me when I grow older and fairer. Your doll is fair and she has golden hair”, mumbled Moitra looking at the doll.

“Let’s hide it then. Only we two will play with it,” Leila whispered back, and they hid the doll under a brick along the wall.

Leila and Moitra walked out back to where Sheila was doing her chores.

“Leila ! Come to me, come here now!" cried Shiela, and she advanced towards the girls, leaving the dishes behind.

Leila and Moitra giggled and bounced like frogs, crossing the road over to a heap of sand. The shadow of bulbous domes covered the heap of sand on which both the girls sat.

“Catch me mommy”, Leila teased Sheila, sticking out her tongue. Sheila’s frown melted into a smile, and she went back to washing dishes.

A rubbernecking silhouette walked out into the sun from inside the building and gained a dark, sturdy form. Bali crossed by the heap of sand where both Leila and Moitra were building their castle in the sand. He gave them a passive look and waddled over to Sheila, who sat facing the other side of the world.

“Why work in this heat?" he uttered as he laid his heavy hand on her sweaty shoulder. Sheila was startled and threw herself away from Bali's hand.

”She is a sweet kid, come work at my place, I can pay you well, so you can give her a good life", continued Bali, his breath falling on Sheila's nape as he folded his knees and sat behind her.

Sheila got up with a jerk and started to leave, and Bali gripped her hand and shouted to the little girl across the road, "Hey, little Leila, why don't you ask your mom to work at Uncle's place?"

She gave her hand such a strong pull that a current traveled from her hand through Bali's hand to the bottom of his deformed spine. She looked Bali straight in the eye; her lips twitched, a tear rolled from her eye, and she slapped the swarthy man hard in his face.

"Bastard! Son of a bitch, go ask your mother to work for someone as you ask me. Bali sat there stunned as Sheila walked away hurling abuses at her.

Leila and Moitra looked at Bali who was sitting there stunned. Both the girls burst into laughter. Rage overtook Bali. He got up and started waddling to the girls, his gait slower as he staggered more than ever.

Bali approached the girls "Run! You slum dog... ruined the whole sand... go!", Bali cried at the top of his lungs. He slapped Leila, and Moitra ran away.

Bali held Leila's braid, and as she let out a loud scream, Bali pushed her onto the ground. The princess ran away leaving behind her castle—the castle in the air!

By Karan Handa