It was evening and darkness began to kiss the earth. The weather was cold and the great city became crowded. The houses in the corner of the city belong to the low-class people. The middle class gets to stay at the entrance while the low-class people live inside the slums.
The rich people who were known as the high class lived in the heart of city. They had nothing to worry about. Food, clothes, water, and education were there for them. Most of their children studied aboard. When they come back from foreign countries, their parents tell them not to associate with people from the slums. Surprising right?
Talking about slums, the children from there, are barely schooled. Some of them learned menial work to support their families. The government schools were occupied by the children of middle-class people. At least they had the little amount the government asked them to pay as school fees.
Life in the slums was hell for many kids, who did not want to live such a life. The boys suffered on the streets to lessen the burden on the families. On the other hand, most of the girls were house helps and dancers.
The dancers' income was better than the house helps' because there was no money to buy foodstuffs in the slums. But the dancers get their money from the high-class men who came to watch them dance. Some made passes at the young beautiful girls. Instead of helping them, the men took advantage of their situation and slept with them. In the end, the girls get their money.
This was the situation or the life in, which Priyanka Kapoor found herself. If she was to choose a country before coming to earth she would have gladly chosen this country again. It was her mother's land and she was proud of that.
But state? Not this one! She would have chosen Mumbai. Maybe her family will be accepted into that city.
She was sure of it...
The houses in slums were old. Some of the roofs were made of thatch. The floor panels of the houses were pulled off. The paints peeled off the walls and the shutters were crooked. Damp smells came from the surroundings.
Priyanka lived in one of those houses with her mother Kamala and brother Krishna. Their father died when she was just fourteen years old. It was the biggest shock of her life. Her mother had to join the famous dancers at the market square to provide food for their table.
Kamala was four weeks pregnant after the death of Mr. Kapoor, her dead husband. He always prayed to have another child but it seemed the creator had other plans for him. Death came and took him away.
Krishna was born with a hole in his heart. People named him after Lord Vishnu. Most of the money, Kamala made went to his treatments. Priyanka had no choice but to join the business of the dancers to support her family. It was going to fetch more money.
She put the pair of shoes in the black bag that lay on the bed. There was also a yellow sari. She took it and wrapped it around the waist and its ends hang down from the left. The white blouse covered the upper body and she applied tika which adored her forehead along with the customary jewelry on the ears, nose, and neck.
Dressing at home in her dancing attire was something she hate doing. The roads in the slums were made of clay sands. There were not like the tarred and smooth roads, one could find in the high-class streets.
The time of the dance was seven o'clock. It was five-thirty and she was still at home.
"Priyanka" Kamala's voice traveled from the kitchen to her room. "Are you not ready? The girls left an hour ago."
She rolled her eyes as she picked up the bag and hung it on her shoulders. Who wanted to go with the other girls? They hated her. Most of the time, they lied to get her into trouble. But in the end, their lies worked in her favor. Perhaps, those were one of the advantages of being very beautiful.
Even with this beauty, she was one of the poorest, sad, and lonely humans that ever visited the planet, earth.
She locked her room and opened the next door. Krishna was still sleeping. The poor boy had a fever at night. He cried all through the night. Priyanka closed the door, quietly and went to meet her mother who was cooking.
"You should start going there" a feminine voice came from the kitchen again. A woman in her early thirties walked out and stood next to her daughter. They had the same features although one of them was older. Kamala wore a blue sari. She had a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. Even though life has been difficult for her, she was still beautiful with her pointed nose.
"I am leaving mother," Priyanka hugged and kissed her cheeks." Please, wish me good luck."
"Of course, my princess" Kamala kissed her forehead and said "may no one cast evil on you, my child. You will come back with a trophy."
"Bye mother. I will be late if I waste one more second with you" Priyanka broke the hug and dashed out of the room.
In the slums, there were no bikes or tricycles. One has to trek for thirty minutes before getting a tricycle. Even though, most of them were not good for the road. They move like tortoises. A journey of ten minutes with a car might take forty minutes.
She smiled at the life they were living down here.
It wasn't funny, that she was stuck here. But not forever. A change will come one day, right?
Fate machinery got into motion else where that same evening and placed on a string two destinies joined carefully at their seams by an unclear thread. Like a shadow crossing paths at the bidding of death's uncanny ways, Priyanka, in the comfort of beautiful sari hit the road and started trekking. She increased her pace and avoided all the potholes including the mud. Dirtiness disqualified a participant from the competition.
In less than twenty minutes, she arrived at the entrance- where the middle-class people lived. They stared at her as she walked carefully on the road. Her beauty was something no man could explain. Kamala called her the extraordinary goddess of beauty. Some of the women called her Indrani.
But she wasn't her! Indrani came on Earth as a princess and got married to a king.
She was still lost in her thoughts when she got startled by the horning of a bike. Before she could give way to the rider, the bike passed at a full speed, with its tires entering into the mud and slashing the dirty water onto her sari.
What just happened?
Priyanka felt her heartbeat stop shortly as the mud water landed on her white blouse. Her eyes were shut in frustration and anger. She clenched her hands into fists. The owner of the bike deserved a blow from her.