The Dumb Rag Picker

 

The cocoa garden behind our rented little house was my favorite haunt. I spent my time climbing the small trees and chasing the brownish orange hens that were always pecking around in our backyard. When the evenings caught up with time, I would run back to the vicinity of the Grampoo tree near the kitchen. The cocoa trees were scary after dark. They seemed to be stripped of  all friendly essence that they showed to me all morning. It was during such evenings that she appeared in the empty plot nearby gathering wood.


I would still be playing unwary of her presence till the moment she called out 'Appi...'.It would be the best imitation of the word she could make taking into consideration her impairment. The syllables would send a chill down my spine which would make me run into my house or better if my mother was outside, behind the end of her Saree .When I  had reached my safe destination, then only would I even gather courage to stare back at the voice that called me. She would be standing there leaning against the wall smiling at me. Red lips perched on a dark face. A smile which I always never understood. She used to stand there and chew on betel leaves. Her long nose was adorned with a nose ring. These for enough for me to classify her as a child snatcher who would kidnap me, take out my eyes and make me sit in front of unknown places begging for money.My Mom would start talking to her, laughing at the awkward run I made back to her. She would respond back in sign hand signals and incomprehensible sounds. Mom listened intently to it trying to make out what the rag picker was saying. But my mom didn't know what I knew. The very thing that the woman over there would kidnap me once and take me away from my family.
 
School had left early that day. I had a whole afternoon to play. Infact I had a mission to accomplish today. Hari had bragged that he climbed up a very big Guava tree and about how he had plucked the ripe Guavas from the topmost branch. Tomorrow I was going to say so about my Cocoa tree. Not some cheap Guava tree. I flung my shoes here and there and ran to the backyard only to have my Mom pick me up by the ears and  make me put my things in place before going out.


It stood there in the middle of the whole plantation. Tall and unwelcoming. I scrutinized the size and shape for a moment, planning my route towards the top. Step by step I made my way up. I was half way up when i noticed an unforeseen glitch in the operation. The next branch was two steps up. But a soldier never stops even in the most adverse of situations. I gave a lurch for the branch , hands and legs flying in the air. For a moment I thought I was superman. But the hard fall to the ground brought back reality. A painful cry echoed in the plantation. I tried to get up and  successfully failed at the attempt. I heard the sound of rustling leaves behind me. Nothing more could go wrong. The rag picker had seen me. She knew I was helpless. Soon I was going to lose my sight. As she came nearer by fast strides, my efforts could only move me inches. I closed my eyes and prayed to God.

 
I felt hands picking me up. I closed my eyes tightly, I would give a fight till I last. I could stand upright now as blood started flowing normally through my legs.  I started to fight back pulling her towards the house.Then came the painful sting on my ears which made my eyes pop out. I saw my Mom standing there in her Kali avatar. There was never a happier sight for me. Mom... I looked back, the rag picker stood a few feet back with the same mysterious smile on her face. She said something to Mom and went back to the heap of wood she had collected.


I got scolded all the way back to the house. It never sounded sweeter. Only I knew of the narrow escape I had. As for the cocoa plantation , never again. Danger lurks even there.



THIS IS A PARTIAL WORK OF FICTION
 
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Comments

  1. Do you still think the rag picker was going to take your eyes..! Nice read man..!

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  2. 'Dumb Rahul' would have made a better title ....:)

    Good read.

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  3. @Manja: the rag picker will surely kidnap me man!!!

    @Vatsa: Thanks

    @Indu: :P

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  4. Nobody writes for children or about those moments of childhood. Satyajit Ray was one of the few writers who was a master in the craft ... well, I enjoyed the post... keep walking!!! :)

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  5. Its good to get Scolding at times.... :) Good 1

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  6. good read macha...The ending line could have been Danger lurks even 'now' and not 'there'

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  7. @Anorak: Thanks man
    @Jai: :).. I used to get that a lot at times.. :D
    @Chandan: Thanks man... I meant -.. never again to the cocoa plantation because danger lurk there...

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  8. Nice writing! Thoroughly enjoyed reading it.. =)

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  9. hey... not as nice as your other works... i liked all your other stories better... not this one that much though...

    its a good read.. but i expected best out of you coz thats where you set the standard :)

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  10. @ariyathe: thank you for reading it.. :)
    @penkodi: thank you.. :)
    @Priya: Its mostly from my childhood.. so couldnt put anything more... thank you for the opinion.. guess i should improve then...

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  11. Dude..Ever thought of writing "One Evening @ Cocoa Garden"(extd version of the above).. Nope??. think about it. ;)..anyways nice blog u've got going here macha

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  12. @Zaheer: Thanks man... Thats encouraging...

    @Acha: i am sure you will.. :)

    @Bharath: Thanks Dude... :)

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  13. The story seem to be progressing well, but it had a abrubt end. anyway interesting read

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