This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31; the thirty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night'
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| The quite voices in her head screams louder than a child staying with her like a stranger in the night... |
Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wond'ring in the night what were the chances We'd be sharing love before the night was through.......
Voice of Frank Sinatra filled the room, and so does the soft light of moon, the blue moon it is. She stands in her balcony with a cup of coffee. A gush of cool air ruffles her hair and she pulls her robe closer relishing the wind , the moon and the song, and of course her latte. The street is deserted except the neon light. She takes in the view oh it's beautiful. Her eyes get stuck at the base of the pole holding the neon light. There is someone. She can see a small petite frame trying to hide in the darkest corner, but its too much of light tonight. She can't see it properly, it is bundled, or so it seems.
Security, there is someone under the lamp post at the opposite of the gate. Can you go and check?
She pulls her robe tightly and walks down. A little later security comes tugging a little, very little boy with him. His big chestnut brown eyes wide and wild, filled with fear and anxiety. His hairs rough and tousled, dirty clothes and tear streamed face.
Tumhara naam kya hai
His eyes get dilated and wilder. But he says nothing
Kahan rehta hai? yahan kya kar raha tha itni raat mein
silence again
Kuch khaayega?
He nods his head enthusiastically. Some answer finally. She takes his hand, he recoils.
main kuch nahi karungi. bhookh lagi hai na. chal fir khud hi aaja.
He hesitates for a minute and follows her.
Tere kapde to bahut gande hain. Kab se nahi nahaya. Ja ja ke naha le pehle.
She begins to unbutton his torn shirt. He recoils and run off in a corner hiding his face in his hands. She opens the door of the bathroom, runs warm water in the tub and hands him some discarded clothes of a boy with a fluffy towel to him and goes to the kitchen to fetch him something to eat.
A little later she hears a faint squeal of delight. She peeps from her kitchen to see the boy splashing water all around her bathroom with an expression of awe.
Cute
She walks out silently to get a better view of him and gasps. Her eyes wide with horror. At the sound the boy turns his attention to her and stands still.
No
A strangled sound escapes her throat. The boy was all bones, his skin marked with familiar scars.
Cigarette burns and belt scars
All too familiar. With a sob she runs and throws her arm around the boy. Crying.
Oh baby, poor baby.
His expression baffled but he likes it nonetheless. Ever so slowly he moves his little arms around her neck and buries his face in her hair. She carries him wrapped in the towel, dresses him, feeds him and slowly rocks him to sleep in her arms.
Later in her room she stands in front of her full size mirror. Slowly dropping her gown to the floor. Her exquisite bronze skin glows in the light except for the familiar marks on her back, her shoulders, her stomach and her shapely thighs. A lone tear escapes from the corner of her eyes as the painful memories flood her.
Memories of her being a happy 2 year toddler Squealing and shouting while her mother chases her al over the house with a mug of milk in her hands.
Some happy days were they.
And then everything changed, Her mother was draped in a white saree and cried all the time. Her grandparents were always shouting at her mother. And one day a strange horrible looking man took them both away. And she never got to see her mother, Only the were nights full of screams of her mother. Late in the night of he would stagger out of the room half walking half falling, smelling fowl. he would drag her with her hair blabbering something and then a wave of pain wold hit her as he would mark her with half burned cigarettes and lashed her with his belt. If she made a sound he would throw her to other men, like him and they would then play with her for hours. And she learned to keep quite in time. And one day he threw her mother out of the room. It has been so long since she had seen her mother. But she is awfully quite.
Maa utho na bhookh lagi hai kuch khaane ko do na
Sensing no one in the house she dared to speak, but her mother wont move. She repeatedly tried to but to no avail. After a while she finds some scraps and feeds herself but it wasn't enough. She is still hungry but there was nothing she could do. Her mother is still sleeping. She crawls back beside her mother and sleeps. It been four days of hunger and terror before someone found her caressing her mother's hair, her dead mother's hairs. She has come a long a way since then. But the strangers in the night remained. She slumps on the floor and cries, for herself, for this child and for all the children like then both as the melancholy Bach fills the room to claim the painful night
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
45 Obiters:
this is just awesome
again the picturesqueness is awesome
thanks Rahul :)
That was a narrative strong on emotions.
I would have liked English dialogues... Hindi is not my strong point.
That was a great read dreamer.. :) Keep writing! Good luck for BAT!
TF..thanks :)
Muthu..so sorry for that..will keep this in mind next time :)
Thank you SOS :)
It is simply brilliant ... great narrative ...
What a story. Astounding. The helplessness of child very beautifully crafted. Really touched.
Superb work, Tanaya! Very expressively written.
Superb pic to start off the story with. A very nice narrative that isn't wordy, but yet isn't short on emotion. The helplessness of the protagonist as a child and the kid is nicely depicted. A superlative post. All the best!
the whole post itself brought pictures to my mind..very well written :)
all the best for BAT :)
if you have time do visit
Strangers in the night
Amit- thanks :)
Maun vision- thanks a ton
Suresh ji..am glad u dropped by..thank you
sandy- that was quite literal..thanks :)
Richa..thanks lady...your post was lovely nonetheless
wow..wow.. lady.. this was a truly emotional read.. n u know wat sort of person i'm..
Very emotional. The initial recoil kind of set the stage for the social issue but you've narrated it well. Nicely done! I am well versed in Hindi, but I would second Muthu here. Might be good to have dialogues in English itself unless its a Hindi blog. Even though its our national language, Hindi would make it more regional since not all states are Hindi focused. So your reader base might get confused. A few typical words might be Ok, like Chotu, Beta, Accha :) Best wishes for BAT!
And btw, the second post with Frank Sinatra in it! But so very different posts! Wow!
A moving emotional story and great narrative.
Rishabh...wow...look who s here...long time
Deepa..point taken lady :)
Thanks :D
prasanna..thanks :)
strong emotions...loved the four lines under the image
ATB for BAT :)
i could not participate...but u can see my post here
Karan - Strangers in the Night
Thankyou karan...and so sad that you couldn't participate
Loved the post! :)
Very touching. So, the boy's going to stay with her now... :) There's no better healing than helping others. Nicely written.
Very rarely, these days, I see people writing Hindi sentences in betwee. I liked the way you did it. And the sentences were perfectly naturally spoken Hindi given the circumstances. Good job!
PS: I like this artwork on the left and right panel of your blog.
Deeply moving n impactful narrative..felt sad for the little one :(
ATB for BAT:))
Thanks Rajkiran :)
Kshitij...yes the boy stayed with the female...he is quite a lad now :)
Thanks a lot :)
Panchali..Thanks you
i have already been there karan
nice post. human emotions have been captured well here.. I am sure you can make such posts stronger..seeing hindi words used in an English story really pisses me off..sorry, but it does! You style of wring is excellent..just that if you stop using Hindi, I would love to visit here more often :-)
Diwakar
point taken
this was just to put in a casual picture..the more real touch
I will be only too happy if you drop by again
most of my posts doesn't have hindi dialogues :)
Hi
The imagery you built was awesome...Your post tugged at my heart ....Kudos...As someone else pointed out when you write dialogues in Hindi or for that matter any language different from the one u write the story in do mention the translation in brackets...It helps :)
And I loved the way the little fellow was playing in the water despite all the horrors he went through!
its a pity that such pest still exist in the world. but happy for the boy .He would be saved atleast!! :)
best wishes
Melancholy Bach really adds another dimension to the emotions one feels upon reading the piece.
You make your reader feel sad for the narrator hence a job well done!
Very Touching Dreamer ! ATB !
Very touchy story. Indeed this issue has been a worldwide menace and u depicted that very powerfully.
jaish_vats point taken once again..yes..children...no matter what they always enjoy certain little pleasantries of life...and that's their specialty
ashzzes..true :)
Thank you manasa :)
Ash thanks a lot :)
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