The long dark road dimly lit by the street lights was all she could see. And as they drove away, the street lights seemed to become more and more dim and the road darker still. Then came the bright light with the quiet taken over by people lots of people. Everyone had something nice to say – “Listen to him – he is supposed to be very funny when he…”. The little girl smiled at the joke. “Would you like a drink – how does coke sound”. “That would be very nice” she says and smiles again. At the benches she waits for her turn to come and takes some stolen glances at the building she often drove past before but never knew what it was. It had this strange odour to it. More cars arrived as she waited and more people – some talking loudly and some shared her quiet, some shedding their last tears and some I guess just forgot how to cry. And we all waited, waited for our turn. As the girl sat by the bench with the two gentleman trying hard to keep her smiling, she got lost in her thoughts.
She thought of the evening she spent with her father two days ago. “Baba, I have four days of holiday in a row, do you have a holiday too?”, she asked her father all thrilled. “No, my dear, but we can go out on Sunday may be”, said the father. “I bought this new game – its called Rowlette – would you teach me how to play it” – the girl goes on. “That’s a funny name – how is it spelt”, says the father. “R-O-U-L-E-T-T-E” – the girl said confidently. “Its pronounced Roulette – the ou is oo – and I shall teach you on Sunday”, said the father and went to his room. The little one was excited about the Sunday as she was sure she would go for the usual dance lessons and her dad would pick her up and buy her icecreams from Tulika’s – her favourite being Blind Love. And then they would watch TV and learn how to play “Roooolette”.
The gentleman who had been taking a smoke came back and said its out turn. Lets go. The little girl walked towards the building where all the bright lights, loud noises, music of a different kind and smoke was seen. She stood. While her grand dad spoke in hushed tones – “Yes, she will do it – its her right”. The lady replied – “But she is only 11.” “She can do it and we are there with her and that’s my final say”, said her grand father.
“Come here little one and take this and walk three times around it”, said the frail looking half clad man. She followed instructions and walked. The pot was heavy for her to carry with one hand – it had a lot of water in it. As if all the water lieing around wasn’t enough already. After the three rounds, the incense were lit and the weird words repeated. She then mixed the grains of rice with the bananas and black seed like things and formed dumplings of it. “Make small ones, as if you are going to feed someone”, said the half clad man. “As if anyone will eat this”, the little girl thought but followed instructions. Soon the “weird” things were done and the long sticks were lit. “Take it and touch those lips”, said the crazy looking man. She took it and she stared at him – why does he want me to do this. She stood and stared. Stared and stood with the lit sticks in her hand. It was noisy, she could hear the after mourns of people whose tears had dried up – the encouraging eyes of the grad dad.
“Put it on the lips my girl”, said the half clad priest yet again. “I can’t – it will hurt”, said the girl and the first drops of tears started appearing at the corners of the eye, “No, I will not”. Her grand dad stepped forward and so the did the priest – “ it won’t hurt, his soul is far away and so it won’t hurt him, come on do it – you did so well so far”. The girl highly doubted what everyone had to say, suppressed her tears as she was shy, and walked. One step at a time she moved closer to see the face more clearly. Dark eyes which shone so bright were closed now, the long nose had white cotton buds in it and dark lips below it had a thin red line, on going closer, she realized it was blood. She lifted the stick and brought it slowly close to the mouth such that she can draw it back even if the gentleman showed any signs of discomfort. But no – there was no movement – no movement at all. The sticks were taken away and she knelt beside him – beside her father. She so wanted to hug him but there were so many people around her – watching – watching every move of her. She is not used to publicly hugging and kissing – she is shy and she also has to be strong. So she just put her hands over her motionless father’s forehead and cheeks and for those few seconds there seemed to be silence….
She thought of her first day in school, how she clung to her father’s hand and wanted him to walk with her all the way into the school. She hoped it would reduce her fears a bit more. He sat on his knees and gave her a lot of coins – “Go get something to eat at the canteen during break”. “Will you come to pick me up”, she asked. “Yes I will”, said the father and kissed her on either cheek and he kissed her back. And he walked away while she stood at the door and watched and waited for him to turn. He did turn at the gate and waved at the little girl. If she had her choice she would run right then back to him but she held herself together and didn’t. Instead she smiled and waved back. He turned around and kept walking away and she watched till she could see more. She then gathered up all her courage – yes she was ready to meet this new class of hers.
She gathered up her courage, yes she was ready now, stood up and took a few steps back. The priest said “He was ready” and as if those were the wand of the conductor everyone seemed to be crying in a chorus. These loud and noisy hyenas shrieking intruded the silence. The body – it wasn’t her father anymore – the body was lifted off the ground. Then opened the dark tin shutters – she inquisitively walked to see within – it had flames, big huge flames which was yellow and orange and in the very deep end reddish. The gentleman who tried making her laugh earlier wanted her to walk with him to the garden but she stayed. Not because she wanted to – her feet just didn’t move. Her father was being taken to this brightly lit tunnel. It was as if the hungry demons were waiting for their next meal and the soulless piece of flesh was fed to it – her father was gently put in and in the few seconds before the shutter closed she noticed the flames engulf the body.
The little girl didn’t even realize when she gripped hold of the gentleman’s hand and knew she was clinging onto it hard and tight. She let go of the hand abruptly and smiled. “Lets go to the garden now,” she said.
It was long wait till the flames finished their work. The girl seemed to lose track of the hours. The two gentlemen made her smile off and on. She had more cold drinks to drink and watched the next group of people entering the brightly lit building. She now also knew why it was so smoky and what was that weird music and smell. After what seemed forever, they went in but took the back steel stairs. It led to the back of the “oven” to collect something – she was later told the liver as that doesn’t burn so easily. It was put into this earthen wear along with some ash. They then drove down to the Ganges to immerse it into the holy waters. “We can go home now, its over”, said the grand father. The drive back home was a quiet and long one.
The little girl was asked to sleep but she couldn’t. So she looked at the few cars that drove past. She kept thinking of the word “Roulette” and how its pronounced. Then she also remembered entering the room and touching her father’s chest and said, “are you ok?”. There was too much commotion going on outside the room and didn’t hear what he said. He smiled and touched her hands and she smiled back. Just when, she was rushed out and the men came to take him away. “The word is pronounced as “Roolete” – it is the game of chance”. “Wake up, we are home”, said her grand father. That day was the Roulette Sunday.
