Raindrops, by Neelofar
Today raindrops have stilled things in Nangla for a while. Rubble from broken houses, dust in the air – they have settled with the rain and a cooling sensation emits from them. Today cool wind blows in the lanes of Nangla, which seems to be trying to carry drying clothes, black tarpaulin sheets which make roofs, curtains on the doors with it. Today the wind is stirring everything within its reach.
Young boys sitting in the lanes seem to have a freshness about them. The moisture in their clothes seems to speak louder and impress more than the careful creases made by ironing them. Drops of water trickle down from their hair. Their lips seem like they are humming some tune.
Open drain pipes, the exit mouths of which had got blocked a long time ago, are over flowing with water today, loosing their form completely.
Just like leaves appear in all their elegance after a first shower, the colours in Nangla are darker, fresher today. The orange bricks look the colour of raisins. The black colour of the tarpaulin sheets shines brighter. The turquoise blue, yellow and white colours of the whitewash on the walls is brighter, and many other colours are also shining through. Trees between houses are swinging in the wind, shedding drops of water on the ground and on roofs.
Today, the absence of electricity is not as striking as it usually is. No one is fanning herself with a hand-held fan.
Today is also the day when Nangla knows it has an entire month left in the city. There is also some discussion on the possibility that Nangla might be allowed to stay for an entire year.
I came across and aunty who said a lot of water had flown in through her roof. “The ground floor is filled with loads of water and loads of muck. Sheets and blankets have also all got drenched. Now how much can one try to protect things from getting wet in the rain? When the sun comes out, I'll just spread them on the roof to dry.”
A young boy said to her, “You should cement the roof once more. In any case, the settlement will remain here another month.”
Aunty replied, “Arre son, whether they remain for a month or an year, the truth is in the end they have to go. Then why waste money needlessly? Cementing the roof means Rs. 100 to 200 will surely be lost. It'll be better if the money is used in the new place we go to, at least it will come of use there.”
“Do you know”, aunty said, turning to me once again, “people who are supplying electricity locally are earning well these days. They charge Rs. 10 per day for electricity, and supply electricity at night as well. But the voltage is very low and the light is very dim at night. We also got a connection for our house, but then decided against it. What's the point? It's better to just fan yourself with a hand-held fan. In any case, it's been four months since electricity supply was cut off, and now we're used to managing without it. I'd rather my child spend the ten rupees on something he really wants, at least he will feel happy and I will be satisfied.”
She continued as she straightened out the clothes of her one-year-old child who was sleeping next to her, “But the weather is lenient today.”
Today people in Nangla are not sitting under shades, but are sitting under the open sky. Lanes and homes are busy with daily household chores. Someone is hanging clothes in the lane to dry. Someone is sweeping the floor in her house. Someone is working, bent on her sewing machine. A woman is sitting on a cot outside her home. Some are standing huddled together at the edge of a lane, talking in muted tones.
A woman is standing at the door of her home. She is in her night dress, and underneath that she is wearing a blouse and petticoat, both of which are peeping out from under her dress. She has also covered herself with a dupatta.
Across the lane from her, many men have gathered together and are sitting on the remaining wall of a half-broken house. The wall seems to function well as chairs! The coolness of the bricks seems to be calling people towards it.
Among the men is a 24-25 year old young man. He has an expensive, colourful Nokia mobile phone in his hand and looks busy with it, doing what, I haven't a clue.
A 40-45 year old man, who, it can be said is quite well rounded, wearing a t-shirt and a pyjama, is sitting on the wall among the men, one leg crossed over the other.
One man is standing close to the group, near a door, leaning against the wall. His hair are ruffled, as if he has just woken up.
Close to him, a 14-15 year-old boy is sitting, comfortably sprawled on a chair.
The fattish, round man said, “There! Once again a stay for an year! It would have been better if it were removed now. It has to go after an year in any case.”
“Look at those who have got space in Ghevra. In an year's time, they will have settled down properly. We have got left behind here, and when we go there, we will be behind everyone there as well. We will get a place somewhere deeper inside the settling, forming locality, and it will take us another year to finally settle down.”
The entire group made a sound in agreement.
Another man said, “Yes, just break it. At least we will stand on firmer ground then. This slow breaking is like someone stammering out a word on purpose! Why doesn't he just say it out!”
The conversation continued for a long time. The group would become quite suddenly, and then someone would start talking about some aspect and everyone would talk about it, focusing on it for some time. No one stayed behind in participating and sharing their views on anything.
Open drain pipes, the exit mouths of which had got blocked a long time ago, are over flowing with water today, loosing their form completely.
Just like leaves appear in all their elegance after a first shower, the colours in Nangla are darker, fresher today. The orange bricks look the colour of raisins. The black colour of the tarpaulin sheets shines brighter. The turquoise blue, yellow and white colours of the whitewash on the walls is brighter, and many other colours are also shining through. Trees between houses are swinging in the wind, shedding drops of water on the ground and on roofs.
Today, the absence of electricity is not as striking as it usually is. No one is fanning herself with a hand-held fan.
Today is also the day when Nangla knows it has an entire month left in the city. There is also some discussion on the possibility that Nangla might be allowed to stay for an entire year.
I came across and aunty who said a lot of water had flown in through her roof. “The ground floor is filled with loads of water and loads of muck. Sheets and blankets have also all got drenched. Now how much can one try to protect things from getting wet in the rain? When the sun comes out, I'll just spread them on the roof to dry.”
A young boy said to her, “You should cement the roof once more. In any case, the settlement will remain here another month.”
Aunty replied, “Arre son, whether they remain for a month or an year, the truth is in the end they have to go. Then why waste money needlessly? Cementing the roof means Rs. 100 to 200 will surely be lost. It'll be better if the money is used in the new place we go to, at least it will come of use there.”
“Do you know”, aunty said, turning to me once again, “people who are supplying electricity locally are earning well these days. They charge Rs. 10 per day for electricity, and supply electricity at night as well. But the voltage is very low and the light is very dim at night. We also got a connection for our house, but then decided against it. What's the point? It's better to just fan yourself with a hand-held fan. In any case, it's been four months since electricity supply was cut off, and now we're used to managing without it. I'd rather my child spend the ten rupees on something he really wants, at least he will feel happy and I will be satisfied.”
She continued as she straightened out the clothes of her one-year-old child who was sleeping next to her, “But the weather is lenient today.”
Today people in Nangla are not sitting under shades, but are sitting under the open sky. Lanes and homes are busy with daily household chores. Someone is hanging clothes in the lane to dry. Someone is sweeping the floor in her house. Someone is working, bent on her sewing machine. A woman is sitting on a cot outside her home. Some are standing huddled together at the edge of a lane, talking in muted tones.
A woman is standing at the door of her home. She is in her night dress, and underneath that she is wearing a blouse and petticoat, both of which are peeping out from under her dress. She has also covered herself with a dupatta.
Across the lane from her, many men have gathered together and are sitting on the remaining wall of a half-broken house. The wall seems to function well as chairs! The coolness of the bricks seems to be calling people towards it.
Among the men is a 24-25 year old young man. He has an expensive, colourful Nokia mobile phone in his hand and looks busy with it, doing what, I haven't a clue.
A 40-45 year old man, who, it can be said is quite well rounded, wearing a t-shirt and a pyjama, is sitting on the wall among the men, one leg crossed over the other.
One man is standing close to the group, near a door, leaning against the wall. His hair are ruffled, as if he has just woken up.
Close to him, a 14-15 year-old boy is sitting, comfortably sprawled on a chair.
The fattish, round man said, “There! Once again a stay for an year! It would have been better if it were removed now. It has to go after an year in any case.”
“Look at those who have got space in Ghevra. In an year's time, they will have settled down properly. We have got left behind here, and when we go there, we will be behind everyone there as well. We will get a place somewhere deeper inside the settling, forming locality, and it will take us another year to finally settle down.”
The entire group made a sound in agreement.
Another man said, “Yes, just break it. At least we will stand on firmer ground then. This slow breaking is like someone stammering out a word on purpose! Why doesn't he just say it out!”
The conversation continued for a long time. The group would become quite suddenly, and then someone would start talking about some aspect and everyone would talk about it, focusing on it for some time. No one stayed behind in participating and sharing their views on anything.
comments
Sabiha Al-Issa
@ 02.07.2006 16:12 CESTA most interesting story - so fluid, so gentle.
May the people of Nangla find better lives, insha'Allah.
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