I, The Moral Police

By

 Shamoli Sarkar

My new office was at a market place, at a very busy crossing at the trans Gomti area of Lucknow. It was the terminus of auto three wheelers that would take one to any part of Lucknow. The bus stop was also, always crowded with people. As my office was supposed to remain open for all twenty-four hours, I often visited it at odd hours too.

My office was just at the corner of the crossing. There was a big tree in front of it. Under the tree in a small packing case box sat a pan wala (betel leaves seller) who also prepared tea for a chosen few customers that always sat under the tree, gambling. For more than sixteen hours there remained a very hard working business- man a fruit juice seller, who would use incense stick for all his business hours to suppress the smell of stale liquor that was obvious to any one.

After a few days of my joining, a boy working in my office complained that his bicycle was stolen. He had only left the bicycle there for a few minutes and it was locked. We could get no clue of the thief. Then it became customary. Every month one or the other boy would lose his bicycle. The suspicion went on the boys who always sat gambling under the tree. It was said whenever they lost in their game they would steal things. But we had never caught them red handed.

That day I reached there in the evening. The sun had just set but there was light enough to see and recognize the people around. There under the tree the boys with liquor in plastic bottles by their side were busy with their cards. 

In the corner of the road a girl with her gaudy make up was prowling, trying to get attention with her sparkling eyes and loud laughter at nothing to laugh at.

Then, I saw a frail woman at the crossing. The only clothing on her body was a georgette torn piece of veil that she had wrapped around her waist, as a belt. I parked my car and kept observing her. Now she was moving towards the tree where the boys were sitting and perhaps they sat there for the whole day. I knew, she was not aware of her appearance, but I was sane, so it was my moral duty to protect her from the evil. At the time of danger God always sends us a special supply of courage. Today nothing could stop me. If some one were going to mock at her or tease her, I would be the last person to keep quiet. Gradually she reached the tree, very close to it, sat there whispering something to herself, smiling a blank smile that was very difficult to decipher. I kept my eyes fixed, totally focused on her and the boys. Any bad reaction was not to be tolerated. After all it was the dignity of a human. My wait grew longer and l-o-n-g-e-r. The boys looked at her, as they looked at the other things around. She received no pity, no mockery, no hatred, and no special treatment at all. She was a part of the whole. She also got a place under the big tree that gave shade to so many during the day and as the day ended a few still lingered under it.

The boys had accepted her in the society as we accept ourselves with all our vices & virtues, in totality. She was a part of the whole existence of mankind. I felt so proud of those boys, my eyes were moist and I really wanted to give them a big hug.