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Shyam spotted a woman with a child in tow and several pieces of luggage piled around her standing on the footpath outside the Nagpur railway station. She was fair skinned and wore makeup that definitely complimented her natural features. The red of her lips and the sun glasses, covering what Shyam imagined were exquisite eyes, went well with her knee-length denim skirt and her form-fitting, frilled white shirt. Hats and women didn’t go well together according to him, but somehow this woman made him reconsider that position.
The woman had managed to attract a crowd of mostly men with her strange gestures and that peculiar, yet somehow familiar, phrase she kept uttering over and over with her arms waving high above her head. Some of the men in the crowd, mostly auto-drivers, approached her, yet she all but dismissed them not even deigning to look their way in some cases.
Shyam wondered if he’d fare better than the others as he was a cabbie, and decided to approach her.
“You want taxi madam?” he said in broken English, trying to be heard over the crowd.
The woman immediately responded “Yes!” though she didn’t look in his direction.
Shyam stepped out of the car and walked closer to her, making his way through the throng of auto-drivers who had by then started staring at him in contempt.
“Here, here!” Shyam called out, trying to get her attention.
When she finally noticed him, she had a look of relief on her face. She then produced a small piece of paper and said to him, “Take me here,” while pointing at a place marked with an X on it.
Shyam took the paper which turned out to be a hand drawn map with directions and names helpfully spelled out. Though the writing was all in English and was hard to read, he managed to recognize some of the names and the general vicinity of her destination.
“You go to Koradi?”
The woman took back the paper from Shyam, squinted her eyes at it and then nodded. “I can’t pronounce that, but it has a power plant and…”
“Yes, Koradi. Ok, I take you.”
Shyam then began to load the woman’s luggage into the trunk of the car while she got her daughter to sit inside. The woman guided him meticulously about which pieces to place where in the boot of the car and Shyam indulged her. When all the suitcases were loaded the woman sat next to her daughter and Shyam carried on silently.
The ride to Koradi was slightly under twenty kilometres from the railway station. Considering the size and spread of Nagpur city, it was a long ride. Wherever the woman had come from must have been very far away as her daughter had gone from being a quiet, obedient child to squirming and crying barely minutes after the ride had commenced. The child was old enough to speak and she complained to her mother in English, but Shyam could make neither head nor tail of what the child was saying. The woman too went from being patient and accommodating to letting annoyance get the better of her.
“Baby, stop it. Mommy’s tired too and I packed these because they’re your favourite cookies. Aren’t these your favourite cookies?”
The child, fickle as all children are, ignored the treats her mother held out in an effort to appease her and wailed ever louder.
“Megha, if you’re going to be bad then mommy is going to stop talking to you.”
The daughter did not give up despite the warning and intensified her protestations, her arms flailing and feet kicking on the cushion seat. The woman huffed in frustration, then composed herself by moving away from the child, folding her arms and looking out of the window.
Shyam was watching attentively from the little rear-view mirror and was waiting for an opportunity to make conversation.
“Madam, your girl Megha? My girl also Megha.”
“Oh,” the woman smiled awkwardly, “That’s…nice.”
Shyam smiled back and, encouraged by the woman’s response, continued to talk. “You don't look like Nagpuri. Where from, madam?”
“I’m American, born and raised. But my mother was from here.”
“Oh ho,” Shyam replied promptly, “You go to Koradi to see mother?”
The woman remained silent for a bit and stared wistfully out the window before heaving a sigh. “My mother passed away earlier this year. I’m here to visit my grandparents.”
“Oh, you first time come to India?”
“Yes, I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…”
“Language problem?”
The woman stifled a laugh and nodded.
The child had ceased her tantrum, most likely because she wasn’t getting any attention from her mother. Shyam saw that the woman was eying the child discretely but she was clearly not ready to engage the child so soon.
“Your girl very cute.”
The woman beamed. “Thank you. She looks a lot like my mother.” Then she looked at her hands while fidgeting with her fingernails. “Anyway, tell me about your daughter. Didn’t you say she’s also named Megha?”
Shyam’s heart swelled with pride and he wasted no time talking about his daughter. “My Megha very smart. Always come first in class. Fifteen years now.”
“Oh wow, that’s great! Do you have a picture of her that I could see?”
Shyam’s heart sank almost as quickly as it had risen. “No, no photo. I not see her for five years.” Shyam’s eyes stared straight at the road at that point.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said, “Did anything happen?”
Shyam took a while to respond. “I did bad thing. Megha mother got angry. She took Megha and leave me. I not see her from 1998.”
“Why, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Shyam choked briefly. “I cheated people for money. I did for two three years. But police came and beat me, threatened wife and daughter. Wife said me to stop but I did not. Then one day she leave me.”
“What did you do?”
Shyam had started to tear by then. “I needed money. Megha school fees. Father hospital fees. House kiraya. I had auto with broken seat. But I said customer broke seat. I took money from customer to fix seat but never fix seat. Keep taking more money. But always needed more. Police complaint against me. They say I go to jail. But I hold their feet and said sorry. Then I stop. But Megha mother angry. Did not want to be with chor.”
Shyam’s crying had worsened. He sniffled as tears rolled down his face. His voice had cracked into a bitter whimper yet he went on. “But madam, mother promise, I never cheat again. Sell my auto also to pay hospital fees. Now work for Savari Taxi. Only hard work money now. But Megha mother now also angry.”
When Shyam had concluded his side of the story, he had to stop the car briefly. He took a bottle of water with him and went to the side of the road to wash his face and clear out his nose. The woman kept watching him from the window and when Shyam had returned, she decided to share her story.
“My mother had a similar problem, but with her parents. My mother wanted to marry a man outside her caste and move to the US with him. But her parents were furious. When they eloped, her father disowned her.”
Shyam didn’t understand everything clearly but he had a good sense for the events that the woman was describing.
“My parents moved to the US and I was born and raised there. My grandparents don’t even know me. But as my mother grew older, she always wished to reconnect with her parents. She said to me, ‘I don’t regret anything. I love your father and I cherish every moment I’ve spent with him. But, I wish I could talk to my parents one last time before my time on earth ends.’ It was her last wish, but she passed away before could see it through.”
Shyam had resumed driving to their destination but he could not push out the thoughts of his wife and daughter out of his mind.
“I’m here for my mother,” the woman went on, “To see if I can stitch up an old wound, so that her soul may rest in peace.”
The journey had almost ended as they had entered the village of Koradi. Shyam then looked into the map and drop the point marked on it while no words were shared between them. The child in the backseat too had fallen asleep and maybe her tantrum had been the result of being tired of all the travel.
When the car came to a halt, Shyam went to the boot of the car and unloaded the luggage stuffed inside. The woman picked up the sleeping child in her arms and got out of the car, making sure to collect all their belongings.
“How much?”
“Two hundred.”
The woman deftly balanced the sleeping child on her arm while using the free hand to pull out the money from within her purse.
“Here.” The woman had handed him a neat stack of a hundred rupee notes. It seemed to be more than he had asked for and so he counted them, growing wide-eyed as he did so.
“Two hundred, madam. You give two thousand.”
“I know. I want you to have it.”
“No, no, no. I cannot keep. Only honest money, madam.” Shyam tried to push the excess amount back into her hands.
“I’m not taking that back. You can do with it what you want.”
Shyam stared away at her, puzzled.
“By the way,” the woman said, interrupting his train of thought, “You should try to do what I’m doing with my mother’s family. Go back to your wife and talk to her. Who knows? She might even forgive you.”
“But madam-“
“You will never know unless you try.”
Shyam shook his head in agreement though he wasn’t as confident about his chances of success. The woman then went to the front door of a grand if old house. Shyam got back into the car and drove a little distance away but stopped to see if the woman would find success in her own endeavour. He observed as the woman was received at the door by a much older man, likely her grandfather. They continued to talk for a while but just when Shyam thought she had failed, the old man’s face lit up and he hugged her tightly. Shyam was amazed and continued to watch, stupefied, as an older woman came up to the door and similarly hugged the woman and proceeded to kiss her forehead.
Her words rang in his ears once again – ‘You will never know unless you try’.
Suddenly his chances didn’t seem so bad anymore and he set out for his in laws’ place, where his wife and daughter currently resided. The ride back from Koradi also seemed shorter somehow and he had made it to his wife’s parents’ house within the hour. He parked his car in a place where it could not be seen from the house and approached with tentative steps all the while contending with the fear of rejection that gnawed at him.
The sun had only just set by the time Shyam reached the front door of the house. Hues of deep orange and pink from the twilight sky bounced back from the white door of the house and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Though fearful, he finally took the leap and knocked on the door.
The door opened after what felt like an eternity of waiting and he found himself face to face with his wife.
“Who is it, Sonal?” came his father-in-law’s voice from inside the house but she did not respond. Instead, she stepped out and closed the door behind her.
“What do you want?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Shyam fell to his knees and the façade of calm had fallen off to reveal the sad, broken mess of a man he had become. “Please come back. I miss you, I miss Megha. Please, I beg you!”
“Did you forget why it all happened? You were scamming innocent people. I was the wife of a criminal. My daughter would be known as the offspring of a cheat!”
“No, no. I’m not like that anymore. I gave it all up the day you left me. I’ve settled all my debts and now I work for a regular salary. I’ve never cheated anyone since then. Please, Sonal, trust me.”
Sonal was stern but something in his expression shifted and she appeared to soften a bit. “What do you do now?”
“I work as a driver for a taxi service.” Shyam stood up, dug into his pocket and produced his company ID. Sonal snatched it from his hands and inspected it carefully.
“You’ve been working here since 1999?”
“Yes, it says right there. Date of joining: August 3, 1999.”
“…and you haven’t scammed anyone? Even a little?”
“I swear on my mother, I have not scammed anyone.”
Sonal handed back the card but she looked uneasy. It was clear that she was doubtful about it all. Shyam could not even look at her face in that moment as the memories of that fateful day flooded back into his consciousness. She was angry, she was sad, she was distraught. Her trust had been betrayed by someone she had given her everything to.
“Mumma, ajoba is calling you,” came a young girl’s voice as the door swung open.
Shyam knew that voice and he turned around immediately, dying to catch a glimpse of his beloved daughter’s face. She had grown taller than he last remembered. Her hair was curly like his, though she was the spitting image of her mother in every other regard. She was beautiful.
“Megha?” he called out to her with a fresh outpouring of tears.
“Go back inside,” Sonal almost shouted and slammed the door shut again, making sure to latch the door from the outside this time.
“Sonal, please, please don’t punish me further. I cannot bear much more of this suffering. I’ve learned my lesson. Please!”
Sonal stared at him intently as if she was divining the truth behind his words and intentions. Shyam fell back to knees and sank all the way to the floor, his head bowed as low as it could go. Once more, he felt time coming to a halt, leaving him to fester in his guild, shame and sadness until he heard his wife’s voice.
“Get up,” she commanded him and he did so.
“If I catch you lying to me about anything, absolutely anything, and if you ever jeopardize my daughter’s life in the slightest, I will take her and you won’t be able to find her again. Is that clear?”
“Thank you!” Shyam muttered as his voice began to quiver with subdued joy. He fell back to his knees and held Sonal’s legs. “Thank you! I promise, I won’t disappoint you again.”