`Veena's dreams'

Veena had never seen a krait but she had seen a young cobra, a fully grown Russell viper and plenty of rat snakes. And rats! The city produces plenty of garbage to keep the cycle of life going. She was hurrying `home' a hole in the wall in that City of Dreams, that some called Maximal City. She had seen snakes too, when she was a child. Growing up between emerald fields of paddy, and gently swaying coconut trees of faraway Tamil Nadu. She remembered the days when her father took her on his cycle to `school' in a uniform. She remembered the carefree days or hiding between those trees and playing with her friends. Her grandmother bent over with the weight of life. Mother struggling to keep the family going. They told her you will do well. Get an education. You will go to the great city. A city that has neighbourhoods with names like Versova and Ghatkopar and Saki-Naka, and Mahalakshmi! That was a surprise for her. The name that she liked most was Andheri, which was close to the work `andhera' that she would learn later, which meant darkness, which would envelop her and take her to momentary relief from the cares of the world. It had to happen because there were no jobs for youth in her `native' place and all the young men would set off to the `Gelf' or to Bombay or to Delhi or Hyderabad or Bangalore. Her parents found her this fine young man in Bombay, and they said it will be a match made in heaven. She could not even remember when it was. Here in Bombay she soon learned to use the local trains. Across in far-away Malabar Hill she found a job. Her services as a clean and reliable cook were considered priceless. Her honesty made it particularly useful for her employers who could entrust the house keys to her while they set off on their busy schedules. Today she would catch the local at 7 pm from Churchgate Station, after hurrying past all the vendors and hawkers, past the banyan trees that cast their branches and their dangling roots on the footpaths and the pavements, past Flora Fountain. She looked into the window pane of one of the glitzy shops that had jewellery. And yet she could see her own reflection. She too was pretty once. Her hair too was black once. On her brow were etched fine lines, one for each worry in life, like a finger-print which a divine palmist would have been able to read. The heat and humidity had left their mark. As she hurried along, one of the straps of her `hawai' chappal broke, but have no fear. She found a shoe-repair store and in the 5 minutes he took to replace them, she got a moment to relax. She looked out and said to herself I have worked very hard today. Maybe, just maybe, today I will indulge myself. Do I deserve a treat? Will it be a needless luxury? Can I be so selfish. She broke down and did it! She got herself a coconut water for twenty rupees. It would weigh on her conscience, but she was willing to take the risk. She had great plans for the little ones. The older one finally got a break. He was off to the `Gelf' like so many others. He would be a driver there. He would send back some money. Veena was looking forward to it. She would use some of it to go back home. It would be an amazing train ride. When she would get over 36 hours to do nothing except to sit, and day dream and look at the countryside pass by. And she would look for the snakes from her childhood. But no garbage though. She was done with garbage for this lifetime.