Neela: Victory Song

Alone in a City of Strangers

Neela wakes before dawn and puts on the clothes that the baoul left for her. She tiptoes to the kitchen where she takes a handful of the housekeeping money in the earthenware jar. She apologizes to her mother in her head, and then writes a letter. She must choose simple words because her mother can’t read very well. At the end, she writes that she’s going to look for Father in Calcutta and bring him back. She will be careful.

Neela slips out of the house while it’s still dark and runs to the station. Neela has no clock, and she’s afraid she’ll miss the train, but she’s one of the first to arrive at the platform. She stands to one side, her face turned away from the fellow passengers traveling this early. When she buys her ticket, she is scared the clerk will recognize her. But when she asks for a one-way ticket to Calcutta, he merely yawns and pushes a cardboard rectangle across the counter without even glancing at her face.

Neela stares out the window as the train picks up speed. She shades her eyes carefully so the coal dust from the steam engine doesn’t get into them. It seems like she’s been on the train for a very long time.

Neela turns to the man sitting next to her, and asks how far it is to Calcutta. He says it’s just a few more minutes. When he asks if it’s her first time to the city, Neela shakes her head. She says she’s been there before. She has relatives in Calcutta. She hopes the man will leave her alone, but instead he asks where they live. Neela reluctantly says it’s near Park Street. She would have given a different street name, but she doesn’t know that many streets.

The man raises his eyebrows. Park Street is a fancy part of town. He says a lot of British sahibs live there, as well as some rich Indians. Neela can tell he can’t see how the relatives of a baoul could live in such an expensive neighborhood. Neela quickly says that her aunt is a maid in a rich man’s house.

When the train comes to a halt with a screech of the brakes, Neela follows other passengers out of the compartment. She looks around at the huge station in stupefaction. The station at Shona Gram is nothing more than a raised platform and a small ticket booth. But this is an enclosed area, with vaulted ceilings reaching to the sky. She didn’t expect it to be this big. People mill around and push past each other to get to the exit. And the noise! She can hear the shouts of the vendors, the station clock chiming the hour, and the steam engines blowing their whistles.

All of the people on the platform push around Neela, shoving her so hard she almost falls. She wonders how she’ll ever get to Milford Lane. The crush of people carried Neela toward the big exit doors. But outside, it’s just as confusing. There are so many more vendors selling everything from food to clothing to pots and pans to cures for diseases. Families of beggars huddle on mats. There’s big red buses, and vehicles that look like train cars joined together connected to wires that crackle overhead. There’s carriages of various kinds, ones pulled by horses, ones pulled by mules, and rickshaws pulled by men. What should Neela do?

A voice next to Neela’s ear asks her if she’s lost. Neela defensively says that it’s been a while since she was here last. Everything looks different. The man from the train nods and says that’s just Calcutta. Blink and there’s always something new. The man points to a tram marked Alipore, and tells Neela that it can drop her off at Park Street.

With a thank you, Neela climbs into the tram and buys a ticket from the uniformed conductor for a few coins. She almost sits in a seat marked for ladies, but stops herself just in time and sits by a window.

As the tram crosses a bridge to enter the actual city of Calcutta, Neela stares up at the shining metal girders. It’s the largest structure that she has ever seen. It looks solid and she can’t believe it is raised each day to let ships pass through to the ocean. The streets of Calcutta are broad and crowded with vehicles, people, and even animals. She remembers Samar mentioning how the pitch melts on a hot day and sticks to peoples’ feet. The buildings that line the streets and are huge and stately. They have massive pillars and green shattered windows. Some are set back farther from the road and surrounded by trees, and they look like fancy homes. Elsewhere, there are factories spewing black smoke and narrow alleys leading away from tram lines, where garbage is piling up. They pass churches and a tall monument in the center of the field. It looks like a palace.

Neela wonders how many people, rich and poor, must live in such a huge city. Calcutta is the capital of British India. How will she ever find Samar? She wishes she were back in the familiar safety of her village. But with a shake of her head, she reminds herself to pull herself together. She can’t give up before she even starts.

Neela gets off the tram at the corner of Park Street, which does look like a very fancy part of town. Shiny motor cars driven by men in uniforms speed noisily down the broad street. Many of the cars carry white passengers. They must be British. But except for pink skin and unusual clothes, they look just like anyone else. Why did the freedom fighters hate them so much?

Just then, a chauffeur in one of the cars shouts at Neela. He asks her what she’s staring at. He exclaims to himself that she must be one of those “damn beggars.” He says that they can’t get away from them anywhere in this city. They all ought to be whipped. Neela flinches, her face burning. The man spoke with such disgust, as if he didn’t think she was a human being. She became aware of her old clothes and bare feet, on a street where everyone is so well-dressed. But at the same time, she’s furious. This isn’t even his country. She remembers Samar saying that the British had come here merely as traders with the East India Company and then took control of India through trickery. And now, they think they are better than the Indians. For the first time, Neela begins to understand why the freedom fighters are willing to risk their lives for independence.

Neela wanders for a while, aware of the suspicious looks passers-by are giving her. She sees many streets leading off from Park Street, but none of them are the one she’s looking for. She’s beginning to get hungry and tired. Her feet are sore from walking on the stone pavement, which is so much rougher and harder than the dirt roads at home. She hasn’t eaten at all, and it’s already late afternoon. There are plenty of restaurants and cake shops on Park Street, but Neela knows that she can’t go into them even if she had money.

Finally, in an alleyway, Neela sees a man unloading a wheelbarrow. He must be bringing supplies to one of the stores. He’s the first person she has seen on the street dressed in Indian clothes with a turban around his head. She asks him where Milford Lane is. She is lucky, and he points it out to her. He tells her to go around to the back of the house. The rich people don’t like servants coming in their front gate.

The house at 99 Milford Lane is an imposing mansion. Neela stares at it from across the road and feels intimidated. Beyond the tall wrought-iron gates, there is a gatekeeper sitting on a stool. She sees water from a white fountain and flowers that fill the extensive gardens. She hesitantly approaches the gatekeeper and says she’s a friend of Bimala. The gatekeeper looks her up and down with disbelief. He scoffs. What would Bimala mem sahib be wanting with a friend like her. He tells her to make herself scarce.

Neela pleads with the gatekeeper, on the verge of tears, but he is adamant that she must leave. He shoves her, and she falls against the compound wall and scrapes her arm. Neela moves away and sits down on the hard concrete pavement, at her wit’s end.

Just then, a shiny black car pulls up near her. Neela scrambles up to see who’s inside of it, but she can’t see much. It must be someone important though, because the gatekeeper stands tall with a smart salute and opens the gates. The car is almost inside when Neela hears a voice ask who that is.

A young woman of about eighteen years lowers the car window and looks at Neela with a frown. She’s pretty and is fashionably dressed in a sari made of a thin, gauzy material that looks like dragonfly wings. The gatekeeper addresses her as Bimala mem sahib, and says that Neela is nobody—just a street urchin. Bimala begins to put up her car window and the car begins to move again. Neela runs to the car, dodging the yelling gatekeeper. She’s terrified, but this is her only chance.

Neela says she is not a street urchin. She’s Samar’s friend and he told her to come to see Bimala. The car comes to a halt and the window’s lowered again. She asks Neela if she really said Samar’s name. And when Neela nods, Bimala opens the door and motions for her to get in. Neela looks down at her dirty feet and hesitates. Bimala says the dirt doesn’t matter; she needs to get inside.

The chauffeur and gatekeeper are both protesting loudly that Bimala mustn’t let a stranger into the house. The master will be furious if he hears of it. Bimala says with a cool smile that they must make sure that the master doesn’t hear of it.

Neela follows Bimala inside the mansion. They enter a room that’s furnished with dark mahogany settees and an easy chair with a cushioned footstool. There’s a huge painting on the wall of a wrinkled, old white woman in a crown with a long puffy dress. Bimala says it is Queen Victoria. She used to be in the big drawing room until she died. Now, that room has a picture of King George VI, their current monarch. They’re careful to keep up with the times.

Neela can’t help but stare at Bimala. She’s so elegant with her stylish clothes and jewelry. She wears a tiny wrist watch, carries a purse, and wears shoes with little heels. She’s the first woman Neela has ever seen who wears shoes.

Bimala drops into the easy chair and kicks off her shoes. She removes her silk ankle socks and throws them on the floor with a grimace. She exclaims that her father wants her to wear those outlandish things. He wants them to be “cultured,” like his British friends. But they’re so hot and uncomfortable. Then, Bimala changes the topic and asks about Samar. She says she worries about her hot-headed cousin.

Quickly, Neela explains that she came to Calcutta to search for her father and that Samar had given her Bimala’s address. She’s hoping that Bimala can help Neela get in touch with him. Bimala looks disappointed and doubtful. She says that the last couple of times she left a note for Samar, he never got back to her. Bimala has a feeling he might be away from Calcutta on an assignment.

Neela says that Samar was injured and Neela helped him get better. Until the authorities came. But he got away. But what if he can’t get back to Calcutta? What will Neela do about her father?

Bimala says that Neela must not lose heart. Bimala thanks her for helping Samar. For now, Bimala will send Bishu, her personal assistant, with a message to Samar. He can also ask around about Neela’s father. Neela mustn’t look so worried. Bishu has been with their family since before Bimala was born, and he’s more of a friend and advisor than an attendant. Bimala trusts him with her life.

When Bimala asks Neela what her name is, she hesitates. Bimala might still think she’s a boy. But she decides to be truthful, and says her name is Neela as she takes off her turban and shakes out her long hair.

Bimala stares at Neela for what seems like a very long time. Neela is worried. But then, Bimala says that Neela had fooled her! Bimala says she wants to know all about Neela. How Neela came to be dressed like this and how she met Samar. But first, it’s time to get Neela some proper girls’ clothes and something to eat. And maybe she’d like a bath. Bimala will tell her father that she has a friend visiting as well, so Neela isn’t thrown out. They are going to have so much fun, and don’t worry. They’ll find both Samar and Neela’s father in the bargain.