Aalia

The morning rush hour! Aalia is uneasy, with an itching sensation all over, particularly her back and the lower body. Deftly threading her way through the densely jammed lanes, scrutinizing the men and women behind the windshields, Aalia approaches only the right ones –she has a knack for identifying the philanthropists, and she seldom goes wrong. As soon as the traffic lights switch back to green, she swishes back to the footpath.  She inhales a mouthful of polluted air, leans against a urine-stained pillar, and shuts her eyes, just when she is spooked by Pinkie’s shrill voice, “Raaaniii! Here, hold your baby.” Scowling at Pinkie, Aalia –aka Raani –takes the little boy in her arms, sits in the shade of the flyover, suckling him, snaps at Pinkie “It’s Aalia! Don’t call me Rani or I’ll punch you.” Aalia had rechristened herself the day she had realized that she was the most beautiful and intelligent girl among the begging squad kids. Leaving the baby asleep beside the bush, she resumes her begging spree. Running from car to car, flaunting her young seductive body, striving hard to extract ten and twenty rupee notes, Aalia ignores the sweat and itch, just to make sure she racks up a sum of 600 rupees before noon. At 12:00, she counts her money –only 40 rupees short of the target amount. 500 bucks –they would take away, and the balance 100 bucks –she needs to buy an i-pill. She ought to consume it before midnight, to avoid having another baby to carry through next summer while begging from car to car in the scorching heat. She presses her abdomen with both her hands and gets to her feet with a massive effort, “Last round for today!” She would consume the pill and lie in a shady corner for the rest of the day. Aalia had come to know about the pill after Aftab’s birth, and she has averted three rape pregnancies since then.  “Don’t know how many more to go!” she murmurs… and a single tear rolls down her youthful face.