Between the lines Chapter 14

Budhan drank the last spoonful of the Bhatua(goosefoot leaves) soup that was left in the pot. It had been a month since Haku had left for his home(prison), and most days she now managed to find work on the fields. But on days, that she couldn't, there was often no food at home. This was one of those days. The youngest of her children was a little older than a year, and could barely walk. Her older child was in his teenage years, and the middle one was somewhere in between.

Hunger was painful but more than that, it played with the mind. The baby was wailing on the floor from hunger. He chewed on the rope swing hanging from the roof for some time to pacify himself and then began to cry again. Budhan knew he was hungry, but he was too young to be able to digest the bhatua soup, that she and the other two kids had that day. Budhan, searched again in her small purse and the earthen pot that hung on the wall, where she sometimes saved some money for urgent days. They were empty. She had no money to buy milk. She had no money to buy anything. She would have to wait until the following afternoon for her daily wage.

Luckily, she remembered about the pot in her steel box, which contained her vessel for her sal tree puja. It had some wheat flour, about a few spoonfuls. She lit the fire and put some water to boil in the chulha(earthen stove). She then scooped the flour from the small pot and added it to boiling water. The baby was no longer crying. He was looking in anticipation at the boiling pot of water. The flour-water looked white enough, Budhan thought. It would pass off as milk. She poured it in a bowl and offered it to the child. He drank it in a single gulp, almost choking. He smiled at his mother, and yelled, "Ata, yum milk". Budhan hugged him to her chest. Her breasts had stopped producing milk and she would sometimes buy some milk for the child from the milkman, sometimes some milk powder from the Kirana(grocer) shop, if she got a whole day of work. 

In the wee hours of the night, Budhan woke up from her sleep. She was hungry, and she had no more tobacco left to chew. Chewing tobacco often helped her to curb her hunger. She gulped some water from the pot. She could not go on like this, she thought. She would go to the brewery the next day to find out if they would hire her. She knew they paid well. It was not a job for every woman. She had heard, there were all kinds of men visiting the brewery and it was home to a lot of shady activities. She had even heard, that they sold girls from the village to whore houses in the cities. The tales of the brewery were horrific and gruesome. But did she have a choice?

The next day, she walked to the brewery after her work in the fields. She found the thatched place after a long walk. It was outside the village, almost at the edge of the city, right beside the Boreya river. From the entrance, it looked like a shady place.There were earthen pots, lined up outside the thatched house. Beside the earthen pots, there were steel cups with long handles, to pour out the beer in. Budhan could smell the Hadiya from a distance.

There were a few motorbikes and bicycles parked outside the thatched house. The door was open. Budhan stepped in. It was a mud and brick house with dingy interiors. But it was clean inside. There were a few benches where two people sat sipping a drink, probably Hadiya, Budhan guessed. She enquired, "I came here looking for Shambuhbhai", she said. The older man on the bench pointed to another door, slightly ajar. She could see an electric bulb hanging by its side. Well at least they had the money to pay for electricity, Budhan thought.

She was scared, not for herself but for her kids, in case something happened to her. She was never good looking but was definitely handsome when she was younger. A small accident in the paddy fields had left her hunchback, but her arms and legs were still slender, and her skin still young, dark and radiant. She gathered some courage and entered the dark door. She could barely see in the darkness, an old man sat on an empty bed, rolling beedis(Indian cigarettes). He did not look up at her when she entered. He just raised his hands and said, "This place not for women like you".

Budhan stood there for a few minutes, unsure of how to approach him. "Rewa told me about this place. She used to work here earlier", she finally managed to say. "Ah, that one. How old is she now?", he inquired. "Maybe sixty, maybe more. She is old. But now her son works in the city, and sends the money every month", she said. "Good for her", he said. Somehow her referral was strong, she felt. The old man, pointed to her, to sit on the floor. "We have men here, and girls too, Not like you, younger ones. So, no talking outside these walls", he said looking menacingly at her. "Yes, I give my consent", replied Budhan, pinching her throat with her fingers. "I vouch for my tree god, I will not talk outside these walls", she added.

The job at the brewery paid her well. She once in a while, saw some girls being brought in from the nearby villages, but she turned a blind eye to all that happened within the walls of the brewery. It was none of her business. She had been hired, to prepare Hadiya, and she loved her work. The smell of Hadiya was enticing, like the smell of the Mahua flower. Rice was such a varied crop.It was a meal for some, and a drink for others. And a means of living for some. It had been for Haku, until he had stupidly lost his soul to the devil, and decided to loan his land.