Lovers – My Hooligan – Episode 3

Chapter 3

My Beginning (Part 1)

…..In this world, a mother is the greatest warrior…..

Zoya Pov

I walked through the busy street of Bombay City without knowing where I was going. I had left the village early enough with a promise to my grandmother that I will be paying her a visit often. I had carried my little school bag along with which I used to put some of my clothes.

Bombay is large, no one knows me here and I know no one here. Everyone is going to their various places of work, I see some of my mates going to their school, seeing them reminded me of myself and Aishwarya.

I started walking aimlessly without a destination until I saw a group of beggars, mainly children and women, sitting down on the roadside and I decided to join them.

Opening my bag and bringing out the half eaten bread my grandmother gave me today before I left and started eating it. Someone tapped my shoulder and I twisted my head to the side to see who it was. I saw two boys, probably my age and one pointed at the bread I was eating. They were looking so dirty and smelling but I ignored it and looked beyond that and smiled at them.

“Yes.”

“Please can we have some of your bread, I and my brother haven’t eaten since yesterday.” The one who pointed at my bread said to me.

I didn’t ask any further questions as I divided my bread into two more parts and gave each of them a piece.

They sat beside me and we ate our bread in silence.

No water, I did not remember to bring the water bottle in grandma house, so I used my spit as water.

“Thank you, my name is Krish and my brother’s name is Khaleel, what’s your name?” He asked me.

“Zee.” I replied to him and pointed at his second brother. “Can’t he speak, you have been doing the talking.” I told him.

“He’s mute, he can’t talk.”

“Oh, sorry.” I said, I felt pity for Khaleel. “Was he born this way or…” I left my word hanging and couldn’t complete it.

“He was born this way.”

“What about your parents?”

“They died in a car accident two years ago and we stayed with our uncle, his brother. His wife maltreated us and one day, we decided to run and we’ve been living off the street since.” Krish answered me.

“Okay.”

His brother did some sign language and Krish faced me.

“He wants to know why you ran away.”

“I did not run away, I left on my own free will to find my lost treasure.” I told them and that ends our discussion.

Some passengers threw some coins at us while some covered their noses. I prayed their noses would be blocked forever.

The sun was getting hotter and it looked as if all the sun families were doing some kind of competition today.

I ignored the burning sensation of the sun on my body and slept off holding my bag tight. Even though I shared my bread with these brothers, I won’t let my guards down, they might be thieves, not that I have money but my most important treasure is in my bag, my mother’s picture.

Someone tapped me roughly waking me up and I yawned loudly, stretching my two arms and swinging it in the air. I noticed it was very late, most of the shops were closed and the street was almost empty. It would seem I slept the whole day off. I was surprised to see the two brothers sitting beside me, shaking in fear, facing their front.

I turned to look at where they were staring and saw five boys, older than Krish a little, four of them were pointing their small knives at us.

The last one who wasn’t holding anything and who seemed to be their leader grabbed the front of my gown tightly.

“Give us your bag.” He ordered.

My bag? No way.

“They tried to take your bag but you were holding it tightly and wouldn’t let go of it.” Krish sounded sacred when he spoke to me.

“There is nothing in my bag, so I will advise you to go and look for someone else to disturb.” I told the boy that held my cloth. “Would you please let go of my gown.” I said gently trying to remove his hands but the boy held on tightly, almost choking me.

“Do you think I am joking, I can kill you and I won’t be arrested, so give me your bag if you value your life.” He threatened me, bringing his face quite close to mine.

“I am warning you, let go, I have nothing in my bag.” I told the deaf boy getting angrier by the minute. I don’t normally get angry easily, cause I can not control myself of what I might do.

My mother and grandmother noticed this and always make sure I don’t get provoked, but this deaf boy who has sold his ears, is forcing my hand.

“Hey.” I said pointing at the other four. “Tell your boss to let go of my clothes now that I am still calm or else….” I left the word hanging and stared into his eyes.

“Or else what?” He asked, shaking me as his nose nearly touched mine.

“Or else I will hit you so much that even pain will get confused as to from which wound it should come out.” I told him, now, I am angry.