Crashing Stars

The chants and choruses of the students reciting the Quran in the various

classrooms echoed in the bare hallways of the orphanage. Laila padded barefoot

and headed for the stairs to escape to her rooms. The Qaira (teacher) gave them

lectures on the same “values” every afternoon.

Along the children’s voices, Laila heard a woman speaking softly through the door of

the Head’s office, cracked open. Among all the high voices, a person not shouting

was strange around here. She crept towards the door and leaned towards the gap,

her chance to finally learn something useful in this orphanage.

“We do not come across such an opportunity so often.”

“You are right madam. I know some worthless girls who look decent enough.”

“See that she looks presentable tomorrow.”

With that chairs scraped, and Laila turned her back and started walking slowly. As

the woman clopped on with her heels towards the front gate, Laila caught a glimpse

and recognised her as the owner of this wretched orphanage.

******

She was shivering in her new kameez(long shirt worn by Asian females) and skin

scrubbed clean. The Head entered and ordered, “Stand up and go there.”

She stared at him defiantly. “I am sure you are not deaf. Stand. Up”

She leisurely walked over to the pot he had pointed out. He inspected her as if she

was cattle for purchase. She controlled herself before she snapped something

“inappropriate'' to him.

“Now, listen closely and try to cram it into your useless brain.”

She dared raise her brows at him. But his prideful ignorance kept him talking. “We are

sending you to your new owner. They will keep you for a week before giving the full

payment. I expect that money. This offer is not much, we have invested so much in

you. But Madam refuses to listen to me. See what happens if you fail to get us that

money. Go, dinner will be your last meal under this roof.”

Laila was certain that he had been trying to warn her; but he did not know it was the

most benevolent thing he had ever said to her as she floated out of the room already

lost in clouds of happiness. Alas, it was too early for her to start daydreaming.

***

Laila was sitting in the back of the truck, swaying with sleep. She could hear the

truck whizzing on the silent road in the middle of the night. She wished she could feel

the kiss of cool wind on her face, but they had tied a sack around her face, severely

hinting at the repercussions. She had stayed unusually obedient not desiring to mar

the opportunity to see the last of the hell calling itself Benignant Home.

The driver screeched the car to a stop and the back of the truck creaked open. Laila

held her breath, she had never even dared to dream of this moment.

The driver roughly handled her and prodded her toward a direction. Then, finally, her

eyes were unveiled and there in front of her was a mansion. She had seen her

village’s mansion before, but one as magnificent as this was beyond her imagination.

Furthermore, the street was crammed with such buildings, all showcasing outlandish

designs that she never knew could be made by wood.

She was led inside of the house and the first thing that hit her was the ungodly

stench steaming in this place. The odour of unwashed bodies and waste greeted her

on the front steps along with the multitude of men haggling on top of their lungs.

The driver pushed through the unseemly crowd and approached a heavy set woman.

“Madam, this is your girl.”

“And what did she do?”

“She is from Benignant Homes. You have to give twenty thousand rupees.”

“I will give no such thing. Leave her or take her out of my face.” Laila appraised the

woman making herself heard in between such unruly and wild men.

“Well, atleast, I would do half my task by leaving you here.” And with that she was left

alone, a mute observer pushed in the den of lions.

*****

“ I'll give two thousand rupees for this one.”

She was spotted by one of the lions.

The ferocious woman raised her voice above all others. “I told you I have no...oh.”

Then the woman stared at Laila, the girl ignorant of her own full name. The girl with

wild wonders and with conscience intact. The hair same exact black found in villages

of her area where she was once born and had a family.

“Two and a half thousand rupees and give her back in two hours.”

And Laila was snatched away by sticky hands. He took the unaware girl to a

rickshaw and shoved her on the front seat. Her head banged against a rod and it

throbbed most painfully as the uncaring man pulled down her trousers.

This action brought Laila back to reality and she made the first noise since she had

discovered this other side of the world. He was untying his own trousers when

another man came running in a blue guards uniform.

“What the hell is going on? Get away from her! Where did you guys come from?”

“It is none of your business.” It was clear that the man was apoplectic with rage for

being interrupted.

Her hands were shaking and she squeezed her eyes to control her erratic heartbeat.

The men continued to exchange slurs between themselves. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Stop listening to them. A picture of her dead father behind her closed lids patted her

on the head.

The authoritative woman was the one rubbing her back. “Come with me.”

Laila’s shoulders tense, she followed the figure to a quiet room.

“You earned us two thousand rupees by doing nothing on your first night. Come back

by six tomorrow.”

“Go where?”

“You don't have a home, folks waiting for you?” The silence was answer enough. “We

do not know. Now go, I have to do much.”

*****

It had been clear that the girl had never experienced touch, devoid of any feeling,

without love, without any anger. Maya was sure from the moment she had noticed

the girl in the main room, that her past had come to haunt her. The apparition

resembled her daughter she had given up when her husband had passed away, Laila.

A knock broke her train of thoughts. “Madam, the street’s night guard reported us

and the police are about to come.”

She exhaled out all that had happened. “Order everyone to empty the house.”

*****

Laila trudged back to the house and saw a police mobile parked in front of it.

A Policewoman raised her eyebrows and asked about who she was. The pain of that

day clouds everything but what matters is that she was returned back to the

orphanage.

That night she was stripped in the basement of Benevolent Homes with her hands

tied in front of her. there was no use to struggle.The Head made an entrance with a

tapered rope and instantly struck her exposed back. For the next half hour there was

no movement in the room except for the Head’s hand and the whistling rope. Laila

just stared at the stars which used to appear countless and show possibilities and

beauty; but now those same stars told her that there were innumerable things she

could not achieve. Now, for her, they were balls of fire capable of hurting her too.

Author's Note

Some explitive content