Homeless: A Short Story

Mumbai: Campa Cola Compound residents face homeless future

(IBN Live)

Tanvi looked at the frenetic activity around her building with apprehension. It was not clear to her what was happening or why. Someone wanted to break their home down because it was on the tenth floor. Her friend Asha lived on the second floor and there was no problem with her home. Tanvi had heard that all homes above the fifth floor were illegal. That left her quite puzzled. But many people were trying to help them. They were all there: uncles, aunties and grandfathers and grandmothers. So was the lovely lady in a white sari who promised to protect their building. The lady even sat with her father and others to perform a pooja that would ward off evil. There was large crowd outside the gates to her building. The police were there as were officers with lists in their hands. And there were on-lookers and children from nearby slums. What a noise there was! The TV cameras were interviewing the grown-ups. They also interviewed Urvashi-didi who spoke so confidently. She said such lovely things about their building, how they had been born there and how they had grown up there. Some had even got married there. Yes, Tanvi vividly remembered Sanjay-bhaiya’s wedding. What fun it had been to play with friends all day long! But why was all this going to end? Why were they going to cut off their water and electricity? They say they are going to break down the building tomorrow! Oh no! Questions swirled around in her head: where shall we go? what about my friends? And my school?

It was morning, but still dark because of the clouds. There was a light drizzle. Jhanvi was staring blankly as the trucks with big arms tore down their homes. Her mother sat next to her, holding her tight. There were loud sounds of truck engines, of walls and metal and wood being smashed down. Everywhere that Jhanvi looked the steel arms of trucks were hammering down on their homes. She looked up but could not see the driver of the truck. But the arm was relentlessly raining down blows. Why were they breaking down their homes? Yesterday, the good uncle had said everything was okay. After Baba gave him money, he had promised they could continue to live there and they could continue to have their water and electricity connections. She was happy to live in her home, close to all her friends. Jhanvi loved her father. What would he not do for their happiness! But where was Baba now? Where was the uncle today? Why were there no TV cameras when their homes were being destroyed? She had seen the TV cameras yesterday – she was standing right next to the TV man as he interviewed a girl through the gate of the building. And the lovely lady in white, where was she? Why was she not helping them? It was just them and the monster trucks and no one else. There was despair and weeping all around. Her mother was crying loudly as were all the other aunties around her. Their sound of wailing could be heard intermittently through the deafening din of the trucks. Where was her father, she kept asking her mother. “Why does Baba not stop the trucks? Why does he not call the TV cameras? Has he gone to call the lady in white sari?”, she asked. Your baba has gone to find a new home, her mother said. Jhanvi did not understand. What was wrong with their present home? They were happy here, why did they need to move? Jhanvi’s eyes were now limpid pools, brimming with tears. Then she began to cry, her tears mixing with the drizzling rain. There was no one to help them. No TV cameras, no lady in white sari, they were completely alone. The tears flowed unabated down Jhanvi’s cheeks. Her baba suddenly appeared in an open tempo, a small truck. He loaded all their belongings on to the tempo. Other uncles did the same with their belongings. Jhanvi and her family and the others sat at the back of the open tempo which soon it began to move. As it approached the crowd, the tempo had to slow down. The air was filled with noise, there were TV cameras everywhere. Jhanvi also saw the lovely lady in the white sari talking to the police. Her heart felt an intense tug of deep disappointment. The lady was very busy doing important things, but surely she could have come to our home for few minutes, thought Jhanvi; she could have stopped the trucks from breaking our homes. And, Jhanvi wondered, why did the TV cameras not show her home being destroyed? As the tempo passed the crowd, it picked up speed and soon the crowd was no longer visible.

As Jhanvi’s tempo passed the building, Tanvi was waking up. The fan was still working. And there was water in the bathroom. Her uncles and aunties and didis and bhaiyas had stopped the bad people from cutting off their water and their electricity. Tanvi glanced at the TV. They were showing her building. Ramesh uncle was being interviewed. She quickly dressed and went down. All her friends and neighbours were already there. The lovely lady in white sari was there too. Tanvi looked at her adoringly; she wanted to be like her when she grew up. The TV cameras were busy filming everything. The usual crowd was there too, people from neighbouring buildings and passers-by. But the children from the nearby slums were nowhere to be seen.