Five Past Midnight in Bhopal - Dominique Lapierre [21]
One evening when the whole family was preparing to go to bed without food, Sheela surprised them. She lined up all their bowls on the beaten earth floor and filled them with a glutinous gruel, generously sprinkled with aromatic curry powder.
“Be careful not to swallow the little bones,” she cautioned.
They all understood what she was saying. She had cooked the parrot.
The next morning, Padmini saw Dilip in the doorway to her lodging.
“Come with me and I promise you no one in your hut will ever go hungry again,” he declared.
The little girl surveyed the boy’s torn clothes with concern. His shorts and shirt were stained with blood.
“Where do you want to take me?” she asked, worried.
Dilip pointed to the amulet he wore around his neck. “Don’t be frightened. With this we won’t be in any danger.”
They walked along the railway line in the direction of the station. On the way, Dilip stopped at a pile of garbage and began to scratch furiously at it.
“Look, Padmini!” he exclaimed, brandishing two small brushes he had just unearthed. “These’ll earn you lots of rupees.”
At the station Dilip met up with the members of his gang.
“Hi there, boss!” called out one of the urchins, who was also armed with a small brush.
“No luck, the Delhi train’s late,” announced another boy.
“And the one from Bombay?” asked Dilip.
“Not announced yet,” replied a third who was wearing a little Muslim round cap on his head. The gang members belonged to all different faiths.
Dilip introduced Padmini to his companions who nodded their heads in admiration.
“With such a pretty mouse, we’re bound to make a fortune!” laughed the eldest.
The sound of a whistle cut short their conversation and spurred the small group to activity. Dilip dragged Padmini along by the hand and into the line to the other platform. The man who had blown the whistle was an inspector with the railway police. He and another policeman were about to launch themselves after the gang when Dilip raised his arm.
“I’m coming!” he called out.
Clambering over the rails with feline agility, he joined the policemen. Padmini saw her friend slip a bill discreetly into the inspector’s hand. Such bribery was standard practice. As the young man completed his transaction, the Delhi train arrived. The gang members spread themselves along the platform, dividing the various cars between them. Dilip pushed Padmini toward the first open door. He pointed out to her the rows of seats onto which the passengers were piling.
“Get down on all fours, crawl along with your brush, and pick up anything you can find,” he told her. “But hurry up! We have to get off at the next stop to come back to Bhopal!”
Padmini sneaked under the first row of seats, working as frantically as if she were prospecting for gold. Between the feet of one of the passengers, she noticed a piece of chapati. “I was so hungry I lunged at it and swallowed it,” she admitted. “Luckily people had also thrown away some banana skins and orange peels.” The little sweeper quickly gathered all this and more. At the first stop, she and her gang took an inventory of their findings.
“Guess what I’ve got in my hands,” she cried, holding her closed palm in front of the boy’s eyes.
“A diamond the size of a cork!”
“Idiot!” laughed Padmini, opening her hand to reveal two small five-paisa coins. “I’ll be able to buy my father two bidis.”
“Well done!” said Dilip with obvious excitement. He took from his waist a sock, a used battery, a sandal and a newspaper cone full of peanuts. “I’ll sell all this to my usual ragpicker. He should give me three or four rupees.”
That evening Dalima’s son brought his young accomplice a ten-rupee note. He had generously rounded up the amount he had received from the ragpicker.
Padmini caressed the note for a long moment. Then she sighed, “We’re saved.”
Soon Padmini had her favorite trains