The Girl in the Gym

Fender bender

Inaya was left standing by the side of the road on a dusty night, clutching her mother's broken chain and pendant. The wind was knocked out of her, and she could not make a sound. She stared dazedly at the commotion that was happening. A huge crowd had gathered around the side of the road, blocking her parents from sight. The car that had hit him had not even slowed down. Her parents had been dead within a minute, and all Inaya could think of was 'I am not allowed to touch Ma's pendant. I broke the chain.' If anyone had bothered to look around they would have noticed her, but the mind of a crowd is like a tangled mess. Someone was yelling, others were jostling to get a better look.

"Someone call an ambulance."

"Call the police first. This is a hit and run case."

"Did anyone see who hit them. Or the license plate number?"

"What an animal. The road was not crowded. They could have slowed down."

"Looks like they were going somewhere."

"They don't look like they're from around here," one of them guessed, noting their garb.

One of them went to rummage in their fallen bag, a few books and some clothes had spilt out.

"Don't touch it. Wait for the police," a lady warned them. The bent man nodded, but discreetly slipped Hemnath's wallet into his pocket. It was too dark for any of them to catch him in any way. He was pleased when he counted a few thousand rupees.

"I did not see any identification on them," he informed, straightening up. He didn't wait for any response, but simply edged out of the crowd and went on his way.

"Let's wait till the ambulance of police gets here."

"No point in so many people waiting. They are gone."

And so on it went. They were all gathered around, passing out speculation and conjecture. Once the police came, they loaded the two bodies into their van and left. The crowd stayed for a few minutes after but then left. There was nothing to see. These kind of things were common enough in the crowded city that it became just another incident. Only Inaya was left, standing all alone, overlooked by all. Lost in plain sight. She sat down on a bench nearby, unable to think or do anything. She was waiting, but there was no one to come and get her. During her time in Mumbai, she had never left the chawl's vicinity, so she was completely lost. She wouldn't even have found her way back in the daylight. If she was older, she would have recognised that she was in shock. But as a child, she just realised that her parents had been snatched away by death, and she couldn't even cry. So she continued to sit there, shivering as the sea breeze wound its way around the deserted streets. For a noisy city, these hours before dawn were remarkably quiet. The orange-yellow bulbs of the streetlights cast a surreal glow on everything. Inaya felt like she was in a dream. She shut her eyes and scrunched them so hard that her face her.

I am sleeping, I am in a dream. When I open my eyes, I'll be back in our home. Mom will wake me up with a glass of milk and tell me a story. Baba will pluck yellow flowers on his way back from work and we'll make a garland. Desperately, and frantically wishing and praying, Inaya sat there with her eyes closed for god knows how long. Even though she could feel the cold metal bench under her, the balmy air making her sweat, and her mother's pendant making a groove in her hand since she was clutching it so tightly.

All at once she started crying. She was sobbing with heartbreak and confusion, punctuated by screams of anger. She drew her legs on the bench, hugged herself and slid sideways. Try as she might, she didn't stop crying until at long last, exhausted and dehydrated, she fell into a troubled sleep.