A GIRL CHILD AWAITS
By Neel Anil Panicker
The mellifluous pitter patter of raindrops as they hit roof tops and self assuredly snaked their way down building walls and factory pipes to surrender themselves to the dank earth still held her in wonderment.
Back in her village, Bindu had often looked at the roof turrets, at the gargoyles and the waters that disappeared through their fiendish mouths.
Rains to her symbolized the washing away of sins, the cleaning up of human
filth, the keeping alive of aspirations.
This afternoon as they lash from the skies, she, her chin jutting out through the ledge, searches far and wide, her sleep-deprived eyes eagerly questing for someone, anyone from among the mass of humanity that trots by, any one soul who would look up and read the sorrow in her eyes, take pity on her, be man enough to extricate her from the hell that awaits her.
She knows things need to hurry, that time is not on her side.
Only last night she had heard her abductors’ whisperings.
Cocking her ears to the wall, she had managed to catch a few words, stray utterings just enough to know that they meant to sell her in the next two days.
Three lakhs, prostitution, sex slave… random words had hit with a sledgehammer’s force.
Later she had cowered herself to a corner, her slender twelve-year-old self turning cold.
Below, they float past her, the respectable class of society.
Who among them will play savior; will help her escape from hell, she wonders.
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