That Woman in Red Dress

It was heavily raining and I was running towards my home .Suddenly, something caught my eyes and I no more felt the rain drops on my skin. Dressed in little red frock which was more like a see through lingerie, she held her arms wide open and welcomed the first rain of the season. The balcony was beautifully ornamented with daisies and lilies. I could hear the enchanting sound of wind chimes hanging above her .She caught me looking at her and smiled. I could not take my eyes off the Greek Goddess in front of me. I wanted to be friends with her but nobody in the neighborhood liked her. They suspected her to be a drug dealer or a prostitute or someone working illegally but they were sure “She is not a Good Woman”.

I saw a fat, middle aged man in his shorts and bulging stomach that was visible before I could see his face. He held her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. This man could not be her boyfriend or husband. He was her client perhaps. There was a new man at the balcony each day. I hurriedly rang the door bell and mom was already standing there with towel in her hands. Before I could utter a word, she started rubbing my wet hair with towel and asked if I wished to have a cup of coffee. I simply nodded my head, for a warm cup was all that I needed at that moment.

It was 2 am and that woman in red dress was still on my mind. There was a distinct kind of attraction in her. I could feel the pain in her eyes and instinctively I wanted to be with her. I often stood near her balcony hoping to see her again. And then one day, I saw her approaching towards me, beautifully dressed in a blue gown, red scarf wavering over shoulders and bright red lip color that highlighted her beauty."Hey little Princess" she called me. I was afraid but somehow gathered the courage. "Hey, I was just passing by the street. One of my friends stays here. No, actually, I came here just for a walk. I don't know anybody here." I murmured. She laughed and offered me to come home. I reluctantly agreed.

The stairs made me feel as though I was walking down the Red Carpet. It was the kind of mansion they use in Hollywood movies. There were beautiful pictures of her and I stopped staring awestruck. A more than lavish drawing room with an attached bar. Everything looked like a dream. I had to pinch myself to believe it was for real. "You study at the nearby school, right?” she asked me."Yes, I have my boards this year" I replied.

"Didi , can I call you Di" I softly asked.

"Nobody has called me by this name in ages, you can and I love hearing that name from you." She was deeply touched and I could understand her pain."You can come here whenever you like and if you want I can help you with studies.” she offered.

Few days had passed and I had started building a beautiful relationship with her. She confided in me and narrated the events of her life. She was kidnapped when she was eighteen. She is the daughter of a well known business man, Laxmi Narayan Agarwal. Her father was reluctant to pay cores to kidnapper as he feared losing his fame and respect in the society and wasn’t too keen on getting back a daughter who now came with the black tag of being kidnapped. She was left with no other choice and was sold for prostitution for a mere ten thousand rupees. I wondered in dismay, what kind of evolution did human go through which entitled us to this audacity of buying and selling fellow human beings.

She disclosed how every man in her life had tried to use her for their benefits, some for monetary and others for physical. Tears had now become her best friends, she missed her life her parents and often wondered what was her fault, why was she was disowned and dumped by her own. Did societal status mattered more than one’s own child, was respect so shallow that it would be stained if the society knew of the kidnapped child, was respect more important than a human life?

As days passed the bond between us grew stronger.

One day, she left a note for me that read -

"Dear Avika ,

I could not thank you ever for all that you did for me. You are my only friend. Trust me, I can never forget you. I have to leave this neighborhood, since some of the so called respectable neighbors have objected to my profession and called the cops, they wanted me behind the bars. But unfortunately money can buy everything, including freedom and hence I am not behind bars, money rescued me. You study well and make us all proud. Do not worry for I shall learn to be happy. You are my little angel that shall always remind me of beautiful days.

Lots of Love

Yours Di"

I wanted to cry but somehow the tears betrayed me. Life moves on and so do we, but the deepest scars, muddle our life for good.