Strong strings of love

Radha sat on the steps of a closed stationary shop on one of the busiest streets of Mumbai. It was past noon and was scorching hot. The strong rays of the sun radiated and glistened on people's faces as they hurried past the streets; busy in their own worlds. The so-called well off people in Mumbai drove in big cars with air conditioned facilities and even tiny T V's in them for excess entertainment while the slightly middle class people went about in smaller cars which had equally good facilities in them. Some passerby's were also found carrying fancy bright umbrellas and sportingly fashionable hats which ironically served to show off its splendour and brand than serve its actual purpose of protecting one from the harmful rays of the sun.

Cars, trucks and the big four wheeled vehicles horned loudly into people's faces and scared the stray dogs sleeping under trees and under the shades of closed shops. One huge car swerved around the turning of the road with such speed that it produced a loud high-pitched creaking sound. Passerby's turned in the direction of the sound and commented and swore under their breath at the negligence of the driver who they realised was after all only a boy in his late teens.

Radha enjoyed the sight of the afternoon buzz on the streets on Mumbai and soaked in its laziness. She enjoyed the glares of the sun even though people resented it. Often she wondered why people, especially the people in 'big cars and houses' made such a fuss of nature's unusual beauty and splendour. They hated it if it rained a lot, they resented the scorching heat and they even cursed the beautiful winter. What did they ever like in life?

Nevertheless she loved each weather and anxiously awaited it according to their seasons.

Amidst the general happiness that she felt today, she felt the sudden pang of unhappiness that came with the remembrance of something. "Tomorrow is rakhi" she thought," What shall I gift Dhanu?"

Tomorrow is the beautiful festival of Raksha Bandhan; a festival which is celebrated all over India to portray the love and bonding between a brother and a sister. On this day, sisters tie colourful rakhis, on their brother's wrist which commemorates the love and feelings of trust and bonding, and the brother's in return, gift their sisters something with the promise of protection forever.

But unlike the Raksha Bandhan celebrated by people all over the world, Radha knew that her celebration with her seven-year-old brother, Dhanu would be different. Coming from an economically weaker stratum of society, Radha lived with her parents and brother in one of the thatched huts in Dharavi in Mumbai. Barely having enough food and water to satisfy their basic needs, the question of entertainment and education never arose in their lives. For days together during the monsoon, the four of them would sit huddled together in their one roomed house which had a big sheet as the roof covering, to protect themselves from the pouring rain. Festivals brought happiness to their lives as a kind soul would always drop in during the seasons of joy to give food and clothes to all the under-privileged people residing there.
But this time, nevertheless, Radha felt an immense burst of gloom and unhappiness. This was the festival of bonding between a brother and a sister and Radha wanted to gift her brother something. She did not want to gift him something big and fashionable like most people in the city did. Money, branded clothes, vehicles or electronic gadgets were never on her bucket list. She just wanted something small and beautiful which would keep the two of them together forever, happy and content.

Wondering what would finally happen the next day, Radha started walking back home. Carrying a biscuit packet which a man had given her, she fidgeted with it all the way back home. Her long plaits danced with the wind and her yellow tattered frock gave company to the bright afternoon sun. Her face glistened due to the sweat dripping from her forehead but she had no care in the world. Except for one.

Usually, Radha walked to the main roads to watch the vehicles and the buzz of the hectic Mumbai life. But today she wanted some peace. Some silence to think and think and think. She walked on slowly on one of the crossroads, wondering what to do. She did not want to ask her father for money as the meagre amount that he got per day as his wage did little to support the family. She neither wanted to beg on the streets for some money to buy Dhanu a toy. She wanted to ...to give him something from the bottom of her heart.

As she kept walking, Radha came across a huge Parijatha tree which lay in a majestic garden of a 'big house'.Radha stared open-mouthed at the lavish bungalow and wondered who lived inside. The garden looked like a mini estate and had trees and plants covering its every inch. Flowers decorated the grass bed and creepers decorated the walls of the garden. Marigolds, sunflowers, parijathas, hibiscus and roses were some of the 'few' flowers which lay in the empire of the plant kingdom. In another corner of the garden grew apple, mango and papaya trees. Birds chirped in its branches and munched on its scrumptious fruits. There was happiness in the garden. Radha felt as if she had entered a magical place. Its beauty burnt her eye.

But what attracted her attention the most was the enormous Parijatha tree. Its splendour mystified her. All she wanted to do was to pluck a few flowers and take it home....and that's when the idea struck her.

Carefully watching and making sure that no one was watching her, Radha climbed on to the wall, grazed her knees and legs and with tremendous effort, heaved herself onto the walls of the garden. Then slowly gripping the branches of the tree, she planted herself on the big trunk and started plucking the small white, fragrant flowers. She tied a knot in her frock and using it as a small gunny bag, filled it with as much as flowers as she could possibly reach. Then slowly and carefully, she climbed onto the wall again and jumped on to the other side of the wall.

Happy and contented with herself, she quickly hurried to the nearest flower vendor who also happened to be her father's friend and greeted him. After happy greetings, she said to him,

"Rahim uncle, please tie these flowers into a garland" she said handing over the freshly picked flowers to him.

The flower vendor was astounded at the amount of flowers at the end of the girls' long frock. He asked numerous questions but got no answers from Radha who was adamant not to reveal anything. Finally, he picked up a long string and within a few minutes made a long garland out of the freshly picked flowers and handed it to Radha who took it happily.

Thanking him immensely and promising to tell him everything later, Radha ran back home as it was almost getting dark. On reaching home, she filled a bowl with water and kept the garland in it to keep it fresh. Her naivety told her that on doing so the flowers would certainly remain fresh and it did too, to a great extent. For when she awoke the next morning to a beautiful day, the garland remained beautiful with the flowers looking as fresh as it was the day before.

After hurrying up with her chores, she eagerly waited for her brother to wake up.

When he finally did, there was joy and laughter in the house. There was an air of happiness as a kind soul had come about giving food to all the houses in Dharavi. So with food and festivity in the atmosphere, there was radiance and joy on everyone's faces.

When Radha finally gifted Dhanu the flower garland, he was ecstatic beyond words. Gently putting on the delicate flower garland around his neck, he said to Radha, "It is beautiful" , clearly indicating that it was beautiful.

What more did Radha need? Opening the biscuit packet which she received yesterday, the family sat down together and enjoyed the small party which served to be 'sweets' on this auspicious occasion.

Radha's face enumerated happiness beyond limits. She was happy as she had finally succeeded in giving her brother a gift which was fresh, tender and sincere. So while the 'rich sisters' in the big city of Mumbai gifted their brothers watches, phones and money, a small twelve- year -old girl in the same city gifted her brother a garland of flowers. But everyone was bound in the strings of love.