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| September (First) 2010 |
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| DELHI PRESS MAGAZINES : WOMAN'S ERA |
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WOMAN'S ERA /
FICTION (4/21) / PORTRAIT OF A GIRL
Portrait of a Girl
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| Daya’s lack of self-confidence and assertiveness suddenly does an about-turn when she encounters an intruder at her house. |
| By Rungeen Singh |
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“Oh Lord! I am fed up with cricket. Where should I go?” Daya moaned. “Why don’t you see the cricket match on TV with us” her ma asked.
“I feel very nervous, especially when our team plays. I feel fear at every ball. I can’t watch it at all,” said Daya.
Her father said, “Daya, you should try and watch the match. Control your fears child. It is not good to be so nervous and afraid. You have started going to college now. You should be more confident now.”
Daya sat down dutifully and spent the worst 15 minutes of her life. Their team members were getting out one by one and the running commentary from her family members was on.
“Why can’t they keep their wickets? If one gets out, then everybody starts getting out,” said her brother Veer.
“Oh! why did he play this shot? He should have played defensively. Why are they hitting uppish strokes!” exclaimed her father and it went on and on. The parallel commentary of her family members got on Daya’s nerves and grated on her.
Veer remarked, “Another wicket gone. What a stupid stroke and not a single boundary in the last three overs. They should make quick singles and not go for big shots. What a pity! Now, we will lose.”
Her mother said, “They can still win. They have to make just 50 runs from 55 balls.”
Daya’s heart started palpitating with fear at the outcome of the match and she felt she could not watch a single minute more. She ran out of the room. In the dining room she could hear commentary on the radio that their servant, Bilu was listening to while her grandfather was watching the same match on another TV set.
She closed her ears and ran up the stairs to the terrace.
She breathed a sigh of relief. But only for a moment. There was thunder and streak of lightning and she saw the overcast sky and started trembling. Daya was mortally afraid of thunder and lightning. She was so afraid and lonely. Where could she go?
Tears poured down Daya’s face. Even as rain pushed them away a thought struck her. How could she live her life like this? She was afraid of everything. She was afraid of life but she couldn’t commit suicide because she was afraid of death.
Daya suddenly remembered what she had once read, “One should fear just fear and nothing else.” If only she could overcome her fears. If only she could have a strong will and, instead of being timid, be confident and sure of herself.
Suddenly she froze. Daya was sure someone was on the other side of the terrace. She turned around and looked. But there was nothing. She cursed herself for her imagined fears and turned round towards the railing again. Despite the rumble of thunder she heard a movement. Someone was definitely behind her.
A bolt of lightning blinded Daya, but she opened her eyes quickly and felt that a huge shadow was falling over her. That meant there was someone standing behind her, a though a bit far.
The hair on the nape of her neck seemed to rise up in consternation. Her fear totally paralysed her. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to. And her mind refused to function. Another bolt and the shadow seemed to have moved. And then her mind screamed silently to her, I am in danger! There is someone behind me. The figure is between me and the terrace door, so I can’t run back into the house. There is no one to help me. Oh! what should I do?
Daya’s teeth started chattering and her whole body was trembling. Panic gripped her and silent tears poured helplessly down her face. But again the shadow was coming closer and closer.
Her mind surfaced from its blank state and she thought, Who is this man behind me? Is he a thief? Is he a rapist?
The word rape made her sweat in the cool rain. The thunder seemed to roar in her head, You are on your own, Daya. You have to help yourself. Think and find a way to escape.
Daya tried to clench her fists and control her trembling. She took some deep breaths. She made herself block her mind to everything else. She made herself think that she had to escape. She made herself think. The moving figure was behind her, so if she ran towards the terrace door and the stairs, he would catch her.
She took her bearings. She was facing the front of her house. But no one was around. She knew that all her neighbours would be watching cricket. Suddenly she felt like laughing. She had been afraid of cricket. Now cricket seemed so pale in comparison with the fear she was feeling at this moment. Oh, why had she left the comfort of her family and come to the terrace?
She quickly controlled her hysteria and focussed on thinking. In the rain. No one would be on the terrace. The day-night match would take some time to finish. She wasn’t sure how long. The match was interesting and it was possible that no one would miss her. There seemed to be no way of escaping.
Then Daya thought that the person behind may not know that she was aware that someone was there. Could she take him by surprise? But she had nothing to protect herself with. Without moving her head, she moved her eyeballs and saw that there was nothing around her to help her protect herself, or attack him with.
Then she thought about herself. What did she have with her? She was wearing a pair of denims and a denim top. She had nothing in her pockets except a handkerchief. She had her Nike shoes on and, yes, clips in her hair.
Daya told herself, “Don’t feel. Just think. Move your head up as if enjoying the rain. Move your fingers over your hair and take out the two clips. Pretend you are putting them back, but keep them in your hand. Be careful, they are sharp.”
She forced her body to obey her mind. So far so good. And she kept standing. Her spine was ramrod straight, her flesh and skin seemed to be tingling with millions of crawling insects but she made herself hum. She knew that humming would make the person behind her think that she did not know that he was there.
Suddenly she thought, Maybe it is Veer.
Maybe, her brother Veer was trying to scare her but just then Daya heard his shout from the room below, “Grandpa, just 18 balls and 22 runs to make. I don’t think we can win.”
And she felt frustrated that her whole family was just down below but they did not know that she was in danger. She knew that shouting was futile because of the high volume of the television. They would not be able to hear and the man behind would know that she knew that he was there. She felt helpless. She thought, “No, I can help myself. I am not going to let this bad man hurt me. I will save myself. I can do it. I can do it.”
Then, with the next bolt of lightning, Daya realised that he was really very close. Now she could smell his bad body odour. She had to be really gritty with nerves of steel. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Just move when he moves thought she.
It was difficult not to be aware of him. Her heart was doing somersaults of agony. Daya consciously stopped humming and turned her body slightly as if to go. And felt his arms come around her.
Like lightning she turned and squatted on the floor, while he lost his balance as he tried to take her in his arms. Before he could regain his balance, she had jumped to her right and bolted, straight towards the open terrace door.
But he was quick too. She felt him grab her from behind. She turned and hit him in the face with the clips in her hands and rammed her knee between his legs. He doubled up with pain and she took that opportunity to run and get into the door and onto that terraces landing.
Daya quickly slammed the door shut and bolted it. She paused, out of breath, just as she heard Veer shout ecstatically, “We have won! India has won the match! Grandpa, we have won! Hurraayy...!”
Suddenly she thought, Thank goodness I have won too! The door is closed and I am safe. Now, I must see who that man is.
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