The Unspoken

Padam Singh lay his ailing eyes on Anamika; his aged body, worn out of illness, is asking for the earnest favour of his kith and kin. However, Anamika only it is who stretches a helping hand- to the man who once risked his character for her.

Innocent. Friendly. Honest. Hardworking. Anamika.

She feels that Padam Singh wants to say her something today and she knows what for his eyes had nicely spoken many times in the past. Hardly before he grimaces to voice a feeble sound, Anamika, bringing her forefinger close to her lips, gestures him to keep quiet and puts before him a bowl of hot soup that she had in her other hand.

It's been a week more that Padam has taken to beds. His retired life, setting age and lonesome existence have complemented yet more adversely to his health. She measures fever on his forehead and caressing his hair gently, walks back to the kitchen.

Padam Singh is still having his gaze fixed on Anamika.

***

"Where have you brought this girl from? Look at her... she is sure a bag of evil omen! Drop her to where you picked up from." – His wife's ruthless voice.

"No... this is not done, baba! How could you bring home anyone from the streets? Better ward her off." – His children's obnoxious request.

"So, this old man has housed another woman? Now that a child is born from her, how long could he keep the skeleton in the closet?" – His neighbours' cynical eyes.

How strangled Padam Singh had been that day! After all, how was he to know that a baby girl had quietly sneaked into his truck?

Padam Singh – by profession, a truck driver at SNT. He had to travel places and posts picking up goods and delivering them. On that very trip, he had reached Siliguri to Jaygaun transporting barrels of oranges from Timburbung and Siktam. Exchanging them with some local goods as he was supposed to, his truck was heading back to Sikkim.

On the way, he stopped by his home at Lohapul just to take a short break from the tiresome highway journey. It was while unloading some household goods he had bought in Siliguri that he happened to spot Anamika cuddling inside some empty jute sacks at the rear of his vehicle.

An innocent girl of about seven years old, hungry and battered, tired and cold; contours of tears and mud-begrimed face gave an empathetic look to her while both her wrists set busy in her eyes.

But her innocence went unnoticed. Surrounded by a crowd of strange faces, her eyes were flooded with the questions of wide mouths running before her.

"Hello, you filthy soul! Where in the hell have you come from? How did you get here? Where are your parents?" Someone towed her messed hair.

"Have you run away from house? Probably not! She looks homeless - you street urchin!" Someone snapped out his vice.

"She must have got inside the truck with a clear intention of theft. Bitch, speak out!" Someone clapped his hand with her cheek.

But hardly she opened her mouth or not in any case she could except breathing in and out the silent sobs- just her tears spoke it all.

After their enquiries to her were of no avail, it was Padam Singh's turn as expected. Unable to fathom the quirkiness of the situation, he also was left dumbfounded; and it was then he had received the blessings of grave allegations and sarcasms from his family and neighbours.

That silent girl – at a glance – looked like Nepali. But... where from... how come... a clear answer was yet to born.

- "She must have come from Jhapa – after the police started raiding residences of underground political cadres, many have fled off this way..."

- "Yeah... but she could also belong to one of the families dispersed from Meghalaya..."

- "Didn't you hear of the Nepalese thrown out of Bhutan? They have been wandering here and there, how miserable their lives are!"

- "The Bodos also evicted many Nepalese from Assam, burnt down their houses!"

There were many guesses about her origin but the real one unanswered. More by obligation than choice, Padam had to give her shelter at his home and she had to acknowledge his humility with silent tears.

That little girl was later named Anamika, meaning nameless, as it appeared to Padam with the situation. She tried her best in maintaining accord with everyone in the household but was always responded with cutting words; like those abusive remarks that people generally tend to throw over a domestic!

But her chord struck different with Padam Singh. Infact, as a reprisal to others' bad demeanour, she poured her rage over Padam Singh in silly things. He also, on the other hand, took it heartily and replied her rage with smile and kindness. Also because of this pretty alchemy between them had everyone probably cast doubt on him – "Who knows if she is his illegitimate daughter!"

Time passed by and Anamika also came of age – she developed herself into a perfect domestic help. Who needs what and when; she was always vigilant on her duty. Be it kitchen chores, cleaning jobs or laundry works, she specialised in every art of house-keeping. But love and care to her came only from Padam Singh.

Till then, Padam Singh also had retired from his SNT job. Sitting idle after retirement meant getting older; taking up some employment would help engage oneself on one hand and receive pecuniary benefits on the other. As a result, he started a small hotel. He didn't have to recruit anyone for cooking, cleaning or managing the hotel as Anamika was adept in doing so. In a short span of time, she took the overall charge of his business.

With time, his daughter shifted to her husband's house; his son moved out with his wife; and it was Anamika alone – his friend of old age. "Enough of it! Okay I leave now... You have your so-called daughter to look after you..." It had been quite some time that his wife also had left him with such caustic remark.

'Anamika! My daughter or my mother? Or is she above that?' Daughter she was when small, and as he stepped in his sinking youth, Anamika was more like a mother to him. And now, after his old body hinted a failing health, supplemented by a solitary life, and at a time when he needed his family the most, Anamika had become more than a daughter and a mother – a salve to soothe the sore inflicted by his near ones.

***

It is only after Anamika shudders off his shoulder that Padam Singh breaks his meditation. Padam Singh's eyes filled with tears – "This innocent soul... who could never become a child, a girl, a daughter or at least a human being... has today become my mother..."

How could Anamika stand tears in Padam Singh's eyes? With her slender fingers moving across his soaked cheeks, she slowly wipes off his tears transferring them to hers. The very next moment, holding back the tears rolling down her own cheeks, Anamika fondly pats on his face and signals him to finish the soup lest it should get cold.

How innocent, undefiled, reverent her feelings are... the glance of a girl 'dumb and deaf'... an unexpressed joy... an unspoken affection... just a coral of love hidden beneath the reef of their hearts...

***