Azoriya

AZORIYA

                                                                      Preface

                        

We celebrated our 66th Republic Day, on January 26th 2015, still I do not find the condition of people living in Indian villages very good.             

“Azoriya” is one such tale, inspired from a real life incident from my village.        

Some of my friends have been asking, why am I writing only tragic stories?

The answer is that, I want to bring forth you people the reality behind the concept “India Shining!”

I know that, no state, no country, no human being, nothing can be perfect but something needs to change in our country!

I would also like to give special thanks to my Senior Colleague and friend, Mr.Sudeep Singh, who provided me valuable guidance in completing the story.

It was the month of August. The monsoon season was at its peak. It was raining heavily outside.

In one corner of his hut, Gulaab was sitting on the floor and thinking something. The roof of the hut had several leakages and water was falling from there in the hut. The drops fell, touched the floor and scattered into several pieces. In other corner of the hut, Azoriya, his daughter was sleeping.

There was some rice in the bowl which was lying in front of him.

Gulaab was a very poor man, who used to work as a daily laborer, in the fields of rich farmers. He used to get work some days and when the luck didn’t favor him, he had no work.

As it was raining heavily since morning, he could not get any work to do. Nobody called him. Now it was night. Azoriya had prepared some rice and potato curry. She was not feeling well, so had slept without eating.

But instead of having food, Gulaab was thinking something, “How good was the time when, 17 years before, he was married to Gulabo. They both used to work in the fields and get money. Gulabo was very fair and beautiful as compared to him. People in the village used to tease him. Then after one year of their marriage, Azoriya was born. Gulabo was not happy as she wanted a baby boy. God listened to her prayers, and she delivered a baby boy, next year. He was named, ‘Raamdhani.’ Now they were very happy.

They both used to work, the whole day in fields and the money was sufficient to provide them two square meals a day. Sometimes they also got food grains and clothes from some generous farmers.

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But the happiness did not last for long. Four years after their marriage, Gulabo’s body was found in a field on the outskirts of the village. She was murdered. She had been raped and then murdered.

It was a shocking incidence for the whole village. There were rumors that, it was the deed of one of the rich farmer’s spoilt son. Many people in the village knew it. But there was nobody who could open his mouth in front of the police, there was nobody who could get justice to the poor man, and there was nobody who could take any action against the culprits. The case became a topic of discussion and gossips, among village folks near tea stalls and chaupals, as it usually happens in Indian villages. On the other hand Gulaab was left poor and helpless in this world, with 3 year old Azoriya and 2 year old Raamdhani.

His struggle for survival had started. Going on fields with two small children and then sweating there in the scorching sun, with little care of the children. The three also faced the wrath of the chilling cold and heavy monsoon together. Some days due to one or the other reasons he could not go for work, and they had to sleep without food.”

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The rice bowl still lay in front of him. The rain was not going to stop. The frogs in the nearby pond had started croaking. They were happy with the Rain God.

Gulaab was lost in his thoughts again, “How over a petty issue, Raamdhani got angry with him and left his home a year before and built his own hut. He did not even think a little of the hardships, which his father had taken to bring them up. Now he was working and earning and had no contacts with Gulaab.”

But the tension in his mind was, How to get his daughter, Azoriya, married. She was sixteen years old now. In Indian villages 16 years is too much for a girl to stay unmarried.

He ate the rice kept in the bowl and the potato curry and washed his hands with the water kept in a pot in one corner of the hut. After that he went and unfolded his bed. (It was not a bed but two or three pieces of sack and some old clothes)

He was trying to sleep but couldn’t. He thought, “I will sell the small piece of land which I have but then how would I live? At least I grow some vegetables on that land and by selling it, earn some money. If that will not be there, then it would become very difficult for me to survive. Shall I borrow some money from some moneylender? But then my life would be screwed in paying the heavy interest he would charge.”

Another thought struck his mind, “I shall ask Raamdhani to help me. He is her brother. He might understand my situation and could help me. But the chance is less. He has never spoken to me since a year. Never asked about the well being of his sister. Why will he help?
”

He was not able to decide what to do. Lost in his thoughts, he fell asleep.

He woke up very early the next morning. The rain had stopped.  After coming from the fields, he went near the place where his daughter was sleeping. He called her by her name. She did not respond. He went closer by and called again. Still no response. He shook her feet and shouted, “Azoriya, wake up.”

Seeing no movement and no response, he bent a little to see what the matter was. Froth was coming out from the mouth of Azoriya. Her body had turned blue and she was dead.