Free She Will Build Him a City by Raj Kamal Jha Page A

you.
    ~
    My stay at the hospital must cost a lot, these three days in the nursing home, but your father never mentions the expenses.
    When I ask him, he says he told someone at college to recommend a nursing home and that’s what led him to this place. He says they have a bed in the room for visitors and he can sleep at night but he says, no, you stay by yourself, I won’t stay the night because knowing you, you will start worrying about me, what will I have for dinner, what will I take for lunch to college, are my clothes ironed, every silly little thing, and I don’t want you to worry about these things because this is our first child and the child, you, and I, all three of us, deserve the best. Even if the best is, like this room in the nursing home, something we can afford for only three days.
    ~
    The last night in the hospital, I cannot sleep. You have been crying a lot and although I am feeding you now, that doesn’t help.
    You give her to me, says Jincy the nurse, try to get some sleep. I will take care of her until you wake up.
    But I don’t sleep, I find myself standing by the window looking out at the street, quiet at this time, and I picture this city without your father in it. He must be asleep at home or reading something for his classes the next day but for a moment he disappears, he is not there, he will never come back. As this image begins to fill out, I feel fear strengthen its grip, the entire night sky enters the room minus the stars and the moon, just its darkness, nothing else. Clouds drop down as fog, slip and swirl into the room through which I see the nurse walking towards me holding you in her arms. I shout at her not to bring you into this blackness, to keep you outside where there must be light, where there must be people. But she hands you over to me and it’s then that I realise, for the first time, that, along with you, I have also been born, as a mother, and, very much like you, I am clueless in the dark.

MAN
    Highway Mynahs
     
    He needs to get Balloon Girl and her mother into his car without Security Guard seeing. That should take him five minutes, six minutes during which he needs Security Guard out of the way. So he needs to set up a little distraction. Silly but effective.
    ~
    ‘Where were you when I walked in a few hours ago?’ His voice is cold, amplified in the silence. As if he’s reading from a script.
    ‘Sir, I was right here,’ says Security Guard.
    Unquestioning submission in his voice, in his eyes, in the way his shoulders droop, pull his head down, make his arms wilt by his side.
    ‘No, you were not here, I didn’t see you.’
    ‘I must have gone to the toilet, sir. Only for two minutes.’
    ‘Two minutes or two hours, you know that you are not supposed to leave this place and, if you have to, you need to get a replacement.’
    ‘Sorry, sir.’
    ‘I can complain to the security manager.’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘I can get you taken off duty.’
    ‘Please don’t, sir, it will never happen again.’
    ‘You should never leave this place. Your job is to guard the building.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘There’s something I would like you to do.’
    ‘Yes, sir?’
    ‘I forgot, I left a bag just outside my door, can you get it for me? I will wait here while you are gone.’
    ‘Of course, sir, I will take the lift, be back in a few minutes.’
    ~
     
    It goes exactly as per script.
    There is no bag, of course.
    As soon as Security Guard steps into the lift, he calls out to Balloon Girl and her mother. They are hiding in the shadow, on the first-floor landing.
    ‘Get into the car, quick, both of you,’ he says, ‘sit down on the floor, not the seats. Exactly like when we came from the hospital. You don’t want anyone to see you because they will call the police. Not a word until we are out on the street.’
    They do exactly as told; he starts the car. They avoid Security Guard. He will tip him a few hundred rupees tomorrow.
    They are crouched on the floor, he smells