Sapana

She is going to the Mantri’s house. God has listened to us, finally. With her going to Kathmandu, our dreams will be fulfilled buda,” Ama had said to Buwa that day.
These days, I want to ask Aama—if she would ever desire to listen or if she could only listen: What was your sapana like Aama? I scream: It wasn’t my fault—I never dared change your beautiful sapana Aama…but can you hear me…it was just not me…
“She is coming here! Go away. Go away you bitch…”
“Give me some food, the thing inside is kicking, give us something to eat,” I demand.
They call me a bitch, they throw stones at me. One hit me right on my back. I fall down and cry out loud, give them some gaali and then curse at them slowly and silently. Ah! This stomach hurts. If I could sleep for sometime right here I would sleep soundly. But they call me a bitch.
“Go away! Don’t ever show your face again,” they shout.
I shut my ears and try to run away…Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! My belly, I run. I run. Ah! Hurts. Ammmmaaaa it hurts. Ammmaaaaaa it hurts, hurts, it hurts. Ammmmaaaaa….
“Don’t shout you bitch! You are disturbing us—get away from the road. You’re occupying it as if it’s yours. You will be kicked if you show up here again,” someone yells.
But then, what wrong have I done? This growing belly is not a choice, but an obligation. A severe, painful and disgusting obligation.
***
“Climb here, don’t leave my hand chori.” We are going to Kathmandu to the Mantri’s house today.
“Buwa, this box is moving, I am squeezed Buwa, I am dizzy Buwa, I am dizzy.”
“This is your first time in a bus chori. When you get to Kathmandu, you will have to ride many more of these.”
It was a bus…moving towards an unknown destination…clearing my little footprints…the wheels turned continuously—Kathmandu was waiting for us. Outside, the houses were moving, cliffs and trees were moving. The clouds were moving; everything was moving. I was moving too, with Buwa…to an unknown destination, crawling towards an unknown path—to be mixed up with, and to serve and help a bunch of unknown people at the  Mantri’s house.
“I can’t leave you Aama, I can’t leave you.”
“You have grown old chori, you have to help your brother join school, your brother will be a good man someday with the money you will send and end all your miseries”.
“I want to go to school as well.”
“Don’t joke with me chori. School was neither in my fate, nor is it in yours. Your fate and our beautiful sapana are now easily within reach. The future lies at Matrijiu’s house.”
I was prepared. I was prepared to fulfill this beautiful sapana of Aama’s. Aama told me they were very rich, that they would love me and not make me work as much as I had to at home. She also told me that they would give me money to send to her and Buwa from time to time. Suddenly, I had become the centre of happiness for Aama and Buwa. I was prepared to enter the lord’s house—the Mantrijiu’s house would fulfill the most beautiful sapana my Aama had ever dreamed…
***
“What is her name?”
“She is called…”
“Alright. Alright! She knows how to work right? That is enough! You can go now!”
“He is the Mantrijiu, I thought.”
“But I want to meet Mantrijiu…”
“He is busy and cannot spare the time to meet you. I am his brother. Take the money, and come by next month. Now, go!”
“Chori, this will be your new home from today. Please them, do everything they want, and do not complain. Don’t demand, eat what they give you, don’t fight and be good. There’s not much we can do; this is your fate...”
For the first time in my life, I felt proud. I was acting the good, goodgood daughter. The sapana  Aama had dreamed was there, right in front of my eyes…
***
“Kanchhi come here,”
But that is not my…
“Kanchhi, take this tea to the Baithakh. Our guests are there.”
I had never before known of people drinking tea at night and Kathmandu’s tea smelled so bad, I could not breathe. Those eyes would stare at me, making me uncomfortable. Buwa is a man too, but he has never looked at me that way…he is also like my Buwa, why does he do that, I would wonder.
“Kanchhi come here—”
“Yes, uncle!”
“Uncle this is painful. It hurts uncle!”
Thank god! There was a knock on the door. He was squeezing my breasts so hard, playing with the nipples, and was about to lick them! Horrible! Horrible! My feet were trembling, I was  fearful, I was scared, I was in tears, this was blasphemy for me! I remember, I could not sleep at night…those hands were still there, I felt them all the time—pain!
***
“Don’t drag me...my stomach hurts. Don’t drag me, it hurts. I am in pain.”
“Stop shouting! No one told you to come here and yell. No one is interested in listening to you!”
I have everywhere to go to, but nowhere to stay. Why do they call a me bitch? Why do they curse me? Do they not know I curse at them more? Do they know I am dying of hunger, that I am dying of pain? This growing belly is not, not and not a sign of me gaining weight…
“Look this paagal. Hahaha!”
I throw a stone at them, they throw it back at me…I have to save my life…I run away, running makes it more painful.
***
“If you can do nothing, why did you come here in the first place? Why are you so sick? Why are you so bad?  You don’t have a mind Kanchhi?”
“I am sorry Auntie! I am sorry!”
“Now stop crying and fold the clothes nicely and put them in the bag.”
“Are you all going out?”
“What’s the matter with you? Why do you need to know where I’m going? Do what you are asked to do.”
***
He and I were alone in the house. There was something strange in his eyes.
“Make me tea and come to my room,”
I knew what he did to me last time. I was scared to death. I was trembling.
“Come fast, you stupid girl”
No, he did not drink tea that day! He was half naked. He closed the door suddenly, started kissing me, opening my clothes and holding my mouth tightly with his fists. This time, he did not limit himself to my breasts. It was painful! Up and down, up and down. under my belly…up and down under my belly. I saw a naked man for the first time in my life. It was painful. He was horrible, he was doing something horrible to me. He was horrible…and it was painful…Later, I was cautioned not to tell anyone, or else I would be kicked out of the house. I remembered my father’s words: Serve them!
***
“Why is your belly growing? Who did this to you? That is why you’ve been vomiting. Lord, O Lord … What a huge problem?”
“Uncle did something to me…when you all were gone Auntie...”
“Liar! Bitch! This can’t be true. You are such a shameless… you can’t live in my house...”
“No, he couldn’t have done this...”
***
“Take her back. I can’t see her in this house. Take her back to her own place. Give her parents money for an abortion. I can’t see this girl here.”
“Dewar babu, it is your fault! Do whatever is necessary before the neighbours get a hint of it.”
It was dark, too dark. Leaving Kathmandu, I was going back to the place I belonged to. I could see nothing but it was dark, and a few lights were moving. I was sick and fearful. I could not utter anything. The same uncle and his wife were taking me back. I was left at home, my parents were given the money. Aama put her hands upon my belly and then beat me before she collapsed. She never woke up again. The next morning, I saw Buwa on the floor, his mouth full of white foam. He too didn’t wake up again.
***
The belly grew and grew. It is this big now. But then, what wrong have I done? This growing belly is not a choice. It is an obligation—a severe, painful, disgusting obligation. Aama it was not my choice—not my choice…
Nobody understands me Aama… they call me a bitch…Can you hear me Aama? What about your sapana Aama… can you hear me Buwa..?
It is painful Aama. Blood is running…running from somewhere within. It is painful Aama…I am dying of pain Aama…what is this happening to me…
- Sweta Bania

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