Charred Chocolate

“Antha Chocolate puthussa?evvalon?” 30 rupees. He didnt quite like the way his pocket felt empty,and Chocolate was a luxury he couldn’t afford. But then,his daughter meant the world to him. No suffering was too grave to forgo looking at that lovely,lovely smile..It was a million dollars.

 ***

She loved chocolates. The way her eyes lit up each time he surprised her with a bar of chocolate, such occasions were few and far in between, sent him into raptures of joy, and for once made him feel truly contented and free from all trials and tribulations life threw his way, and life was certainly very liberal in that respect, a village barber struggling to sustain his own offspring, his bundle of joy, problems were aplenty. He barely scraped through each month, and then it was a whole new month of uncertainty, toil and frustration. There were times he felt glad that his wife had died off during childbirth, though he chastised himself severely each time that thought crossed his mind… One stomach less to feed.

His daughter was all he had, the only proof of his existence on this cursed planet, his only hope, the only thing that gave him a sense of purpose. He wanted to see her escape the filthy, claustrophobic environs that passed off as home. She was not meant to fight out an existence in this dingy, squalid slum cluster, she was not meant to be yet another addition to the list of poor, a mere statistic. His raasathi was destined for greatness, and he was doing what he could to make that happen: send her to school.

***

30 rupees. Well, he would have to really tighten his spending for the rest of the month. But it did not bother him at all. He was walking along the dusty road that led to her school, cycle in tow, in another world, playing out her response when she saw the Chocolate.

He woke up from his reverie to a flurry of activity all around him. There were a lot of cars all around him. Vip cars,with those lights on them. MLA’s. They were probably in school for some new mid-day meal scheme. What they got for lunch was as good as rubbish. She used to tell him about her friends getting dead insects in their meals and other horror stories. But he had no choice. He could not let her starve,and it was free. He never liked politicians. They had this sickening self-important air about them,and that infuriating grin and fake concern they put on while canvassing for votes really got him all worked up. He never voted,the only time he made an exception to it was when he was given a colour tv,with free cable. He was mad at himself for accepting the set,but then she could watch all those cartoons. That settled the issue.

There was this commotion that was growing louder as he approached the school. And people were just moving around aimlessly,there was this look of disbelief on their faces. And the number of cars just multiplied. He could hear the wail of a siren somewhere,and just then,an ambulance whizzed past him. More people. More chaos. Deafening din. TV cameras. People screaming into them. More cars. He just kept on walking,not quite sure as to what to make out of all this,and it never occurred to him to ask someone. It never occurred to him that something could have happened at school. It never occurred to him that she might be in trouble.

***

He was dazed. He saw double all around. Seemed to be some sort of hospital,or something. There was a needle sticking out of his arm,going up to a bottle. He knew what that was, he had seen it when his neighbour was in hospital last year. The doctor had said that it was to give the guy strength. Well he could definitely do with some strength now. He felt like the morning after one of those bottles he used to buy from the local toddy shop. He had stopped going there for about a year or so, for her sake. And then it all came rushing back to him. Thick acrid smoke,ambulances,red fire engines fighting the raging fire,the school’s thatched roof falling down. The last thing he remembered was a female sobbing uncontrollably in front of him. It was a black screen after that. He had to find her,she would be hungry by now. The Chocolate! She would have missed her siesta too.

***

He could not bear to go there. It was overwhelming. 3 rows of white sheet covered bundles. People going from one bundle to the other,seemingly looking for something. He caught a glimpse of what was under the sheets. Something black. He did not quite know what it was,but it made him nauseous. Black screen.

She was found that night. Laid down unceremoniously outside the mortuary,covered in a white sheet. His neighbour did not let him go near her,he held him back fiercely. He was angry. He wanted to shout at him,he wanted to go near her. But he could summon no energy to even open his mouth. Whatever he tried to say came out as howls,and moans.  They identified her by her bracelet,he told him. Nothing else was recognisable. It somehow reminded him of dried fish they used to fry back at home. He had a lot of things going around his head. Rajnikanth in Chandramukhi, the song she used to sing,her school fees that were long overdue,the Chocolate, her smiling face,the new shaving cream he had bought for his shop,30 rupees, dried fish. He knew what to do. He seemed to be possessed. He stopped sobbing,reached for his pocket,brought out the blade. Swish. Red.

***

The ward again. He was weak. His neighbour was standing next to his bed.She was laid to rest at a mass burial,he said. He felt cheated,violated,left out,angry. Tears started streaming down his cheeks.Why could he not go with her?! He wanted to see the burial site,he told his neighbour. It was just a mound now,he was told. Nope,he wanted to go. He wanted to see where his princess lay.

***

An ocean of people. Overwhelming grief. Uncontrollable,hysterical mothers. The smell of incense sticks rent the air. He was on the ground,looking around as a sea of humanity mourned its loved ones. And then,he remembered something.  Bangles. How could he forget??!! She had asked for bangles that day,and those wretched 30 rupees had made him completely forget about it! He had to make amends. He could not bear to disappoint her,she would not say anything,and she would not be angry,he knew,but still.. He begged his neighbour to get him a cycle,and shot off. He was back in 5 minutes. He didn’t want to keep her waiting. He went and kept a pair of bangles and a Chocolate near a bunch of flowers and a burnt incense stick. She was happy. He knew it. He could see her face. That lovely face…

***

Based on the Kumbakonam fire tragedy of 2004

**an oldblighter-vanwinkle production of a totalliemeh post

Hello. This is a guest Post. I repeat, This is a guest post. after years and years..ok, months and months of bullying and threatening, our..your dear oldblighter  finally came up with a guest post. although I had full right and green light to go ahead and edit it, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to. This isn’t his best, no, THIS is his best. I express my sincere gratitude to..*blinks* I meant..”Yo, PUG, here is to your freedom of  expression”

Something  about  the poster. (?)

The profound influence of his pragmatic nature is right now slowly getting on my nerves, as we speak.”

My lovely li’l bro. manja kinju kaalulla chakki poochaykk..guest post ezhuthan ullil mohamudichallo.