The goddess hides in the most unexpected places.

****

Maya felt invisible bony hands were clutching her without permission.

The huts were crammed into small spaces with only tiny paths left in between to walk. The poorer ones lived in houses of straw and mud, while the relatively affluent ones had a tin shed roof above their heads. The forest was just some distance away.

The sight was extremely pitiful and even claustrophobic. It reminded Maya of the slums masked in metropolises.

She had carried her ID, a knife and a bottle of homemade pepper spray. Prying male eyes were already following her, while the women looked sceptically at her from behind curtains or veils.

Maya felt an urgent need to slap those men who shot her lecherous looks. Her stomach twisted in a knot but she tried to keep a brave front. She had already informed Anandi and Nathu about her arrival here, though not Aadi Babu, because she knew he wouldn't give his consent. As far as it was concerned, if somehow she got into trouble, she could trust the housekeepers. After all, Anandi did come here sometimes, if not regularly.

If she wasn't harmed, I would be safe too. But again, I am a foreigner to them. A city dweller. A possible prey.

But she wouldn't just lose.

All such treacherous thoughts circled in her mind while she looked out for someone who appeared approachable. There were mostly women in the area, and most of them casted her unwelcoming glances or got out of her path. Utterly lost, Maya just thought if she would shout and announce that she didn't come here with an ulterior motive.

A ghostly tap on her back made her screech. Turning around, she saw an old woman with a hunchback frowning at her.

"Who are you?" the old lady sneered.

The woman looked really old. Loose skin hung from her arms and her breasts were sagging. She held a shaft in her hands and wore a nose ring.

"I am from Aadi Babu's house."

The woman's eyes widened upon hearing Aadi Babu's name. She heaved a sigh. "You belong to such a good family. Why come here?"

"I got to know about Lalita from Anandi."

The old lady's lips frowned. "So Anandi sent you here for work."

Maya allowed the decrepit woman to assume what she wanted. Her job was to meet Lalita and know more about her life, about the people here.

"I will take you to her."

The old woman gestured Maya with her fingers to follow her. The woman was extremely slow, almost walking with the pace of a snail. Maya grinded her teeth and rolled her eyes. Finally, the old woman knocked on the door of a kutcha house. The thudding of footsteps could be heard, along with certain squeals and faint curses.

Maya distinguished two tones- one more shrill and feminine, and another more grumpy and coarse. Then her eyes fell on a pair of shoes outside. Immediately she pulled her bag close and clenched her hands defensively into a fist.

The door opened with a bang and out came a man. He was on the verge of cursing her, but his anger morphed into shock when he saw a woman instead of a man. With a sly smile he remarked, "Lalita, do you serve women too?"

Maya narrowed her eyes to two deadly slits. Her tongue itched to hiss and spit venomous words on the man, but she calmed herself down.

"I am from Aadi Babu's house. I have to talk to Lalita for some personal reasons which I don't feel the need to share with others."

The man pursed his lips. Quickly wearing his shoes he hurried away. Maya could hear him call her nasty names, but that is what they are used to doing.

"That was Rohit's brother-in-law Rahul, wasn't it?" the old woman asked Lalita.

It was when Maya saw her. She had barely covered herself in a saree, her hair unkempt and eyes smeared with kohl. There were fresh marks of possession on her neck.

Of course, I came at the wrong time.

Or did I save her?

Lalita's eyes brimmed with tears. "I cannot deny him. He will kill me."

"But people will tarnish you further because you are sleeping with a married man. After all, they won't point fingers at his lust."

The old woman went away shaking her head. Lalita braced herself against the door-frame and shut her eyes, heaving a woeful sigh.

"Come in," she whispered, latching the door after Maya stepped in.

The shelter consisted of only two rooms. There was a khatia in the middle, and in the same room a stove and some utensils were kept. There was a shelf on which containers and other necessities were orderly placed. A trunk was kept at the start of the second room, which looked dirty and dim, with spider webs hanging from the doorframe.

"There's nothing much that I can do to be hospitable. Please sit on the khatia."

Maya knew this was the same khatia where things were being done just minutes, rather seconds before she came. With a nauseating feeling she sat on it.

Lalita sat down on the floor. "Did Anandi send you?"

Maya got out her ID card and showed it to Lalita.

"Maya. So that's your name. Murti House?" She gasped. "You are a journalist? An editor?"

"A journalist. You seem to know about it well."

Lalita smiled sardonically. Her nimble fingers traced the ID card before handing it reluctantly to Maya. Dreamily she gazed at the journalist in front of her.

"I used to be a student of journalism, studying in a reputed university of Calcutta."

Maya's jaw dropped at the revelation.

It all felt quite out of place- a journalism student surviving here in the slums as a prostitute, while another successful journalist sat here with no previous knowledge of it.

"I am eager to know your story, if you are willing to share."

"Have you come here to study, err, the slums?"

"Well, to study Devipuram in general. Know about the people and its place. But I guess you all interested me more."

Lalita scoffed. "We have stories, yes. We have ample stories to tell. Day and night we live a tragic tale. I guess you have some idea about my past?"

"Kind of, though it doesn't tell me everything about you." Maya took up the male wristwatch that was on the khatia. Probably belongs to that customer from before, she thought, and kept it in her bag.

"He might ask for it later," Lalita said.

"Tell him to take it from me if he ever needs it. Now, let's come back to the point. Tell me your tale."

Lalita sat silent for a moment, staring at the pale walls of her abode. Sometimes she fidgeted with her aanchal, eyes restlessly roving the room. Then her brows twitched and lips puckered as a lone tear trickled down.

"I was Anandi's cousin, a parentless child who got shelter in her house. I went to study journalism in the Jacient Institute of Media and Technology. Life was going well and good. I was enjoying this new taste of freedom, living life to the fullest.

"But then, I realised university wasn't all about studies and books. It had another side to it- drugs. Students who practised it in secret, getting lost in the hypnotic world of substances. And being a growing woman just out of teenage, I succumbed to the wrong influence."

She bit the insides of her mouth, looking at Maya sideways.

"I started doing drugs. Not just that, I associated myself with people who used to do the business, like sending drugs to different states and countries. I was eventually selected as one to transport those to Punjab. Unfortunately, I was caught."

Maya felt her throat go dry. She raised her hand, asking her to stop. "Water, please."

Lalita took a deep breath and wiped her tears. She took a glass and poured some water in it. Maya drank it in one gulp.

The mere thought of both of them being journalism students instilled a raw fear in Maya's heart. What if she was in her place?

"Continue."

Lalita did as asked. "I was jailed. For five years. Anandi's family married her off to Nathu and cut all ties with me. It was very difficult for them, I suppose, to remove the blemish that I had brought on them. After five years, I got bail. The people for whom I was working had sent some men to help me out. I had thought they would allow me to work for them again, but..."

Lalita took a heavy pause. She bit her lips so badly that it left a scar on the soft pink flesh. Tears spilled like rain and flooded her lap.

"They sold me into prostitution, that too in this village where Anandi lives after marriage. I felt so ashamed, so guilty of it all!" Lalita smacked her forehead multiple times in a fit of rage. "Anandi was the only one to have sensed that something was wrong with me and whenever I left for university, she would warn me to not choose the easy path. But I always chose what felt more pleasurable, and now see, I am stuck in a web of ugly passion and dominance where I am nothing but an object to feel and relish."

Maya didn't need a notepad to jot down all the points. All the words got sharply imprinted on her mind. Forever. Anger strode in her veins as much as sympathy conquered her heart. Lalita had sinned, yes, but she repented too.

"Are you writing a story about our lives?" Lalita asked.

"For the sake of your safety, I will keep you anonymous. But yes, your story will make it to the crowd. They will read about you. About how so many criminals live a luxurious life and yet someone who wishes to redeem doesn't get a second chance at life!"

Lalita lowered her head. Silence rested between the two. Only the drops of water falling down in the sink perturbed the quietness.

"Do you wish to take a round of the slum?" Lalita broke the ice.

"Yes. Maybe you can tell me more about yourselves."

"The people here, of course, will mostly abhor you. Few will actually accept your kindness or empathy."

The two got up and travelled around the slums. Each path they traversed was narrow and rugged at a few places. As told, rarely did a man or woman come up to share their story with Maya. So Lalita took it upon herself to narrate the chores of their day-to-day lives to her.

"Some men here serve too. It might seem odd, but it's true. There are also married women here who serve clients five days a week and go back home on the weekends. It's their way of earning a livelihood."

"It's horrifying."

"Don't dare tell it on their face," Lalita cautioned. "Some have chosen this and see themselves as warriors. They will find your words disrespectful."

Maya was shocked by what she heard.

Indeed, Shakti is feminine, she smiled to herself. For what she knew, she would die rather than live such a life, but these women chose their own battles to feed their family. They took it upon themselves to carry this taboo, wear it like a scar of war. Maybe they were proud of being this powerful too. And they should be.

"I have always thought souls to be pure. Still, I cannot imagine being in their place," Maya said.

"It's natural," Lalita said in a matter-of-fact voice. "No woman would want to be here. But we don't get to choose between good and bad. Sometimes it's a choice between the bad and the worst, and we accept the bad."

"You all are truly divine. You are goddesses who fight every day and go unseen, like unsung heroes."

"I appreciate your-"

Lalita stopped suddenly in her tracks. Before Maya could look around to know what had happened, in a matter of seconds Lalita pulled Maya behind a dilapidated shelter and they hid behind it. Maya noticed that Lalita was looking at a house some steps away.

What Maya saw quite shook her world.

Hrishav was walking at that house. He stood outside the house, looked around with alert eyes and then knocked on the door.

"What is the head priest doing here?"

"You know him?"

"I met him yesterday only. But why-"

"He is a stupid man." Lalita face-palmed. "He doesn't know he is inviting trouble."

Maya squinted. What did Lalita mean?

The door opened to reveal a beautiful curvaceous woman. She looked in her early thirties from afar, almost Anandi's age, with hair left open and wearing a pink tattered saree. But even in that she looked like the divine herself, she was that gorgeous. The head priest took something out from his pocket, which Maya realised was a bunch of fresh notes.

"Why is he giving her money, Lalita?"

Does he visit her and...

"I don't know why he has taken it upon himself to support her family after her husband died. It isn't his fault that her husband died. He has nothing to do with it."

Out of the blue, Maya asked, "Is it something about his bad luck?"

"I don't know. That's what the villagers say. He is a gentleman cursed to be a harbinger of death. Well, that's what some people have spread about him. Guess what? They have no other job but to make this man's life miserable." Lalita twisted her lips.

So this bad luck has stretched itself to death. Maya felt her hands sweating in tension.

Maya couldn't hear the conversation. She saw the woman break down and crying hard. The woman was even falling down to touch his feet, but he stepped away. He tried to pacify her and after some time tramped away, waving his hands in the air as if denying something.

When he was finally gone and out of sight, Lalita sprinted out of her hiding and violently banged on the woman's door. She was soon welcomed in by the woman and Maya also crept in.

The woman looked at Maya as if she was a god amidst living humans. "Who is she?"

"She is Maya, a journalist and relative of Aadi Babu."

Again that name did some kind of hocus pocus and the woman immediately joined her hands in a namaskara. "I am happy that such respected people are coming to my house."

"Just like the priest."

Lalita shot her a glare. The woman's feet curled inward.

"I did not ask him to come," she murmured.

Lalita dug her nails into her shoulders. The woman hid her face and moaned.

"Why can't you just throw the money he gives you?" Lalita thundered.

"He is a pious man. Even if he gave me poison, I would accept."

Lalita groaned. A little bit of noise came from inside the house and after some moments a teen girl came out. She had a petite figure and long curly hair that reached up to her hips. She had round doe-like eyes like her mother. She scanned the three women with a curious gaze and then walked up to her mother, pulling her by the aanchal.

"Sahiba, go inside. Elders are talking here," the woman ordered.

Maya deduced that she was around the age of seventeen or sixteen. Sahiba was also as pretty as her mother, but her beauty was about being youthful and girlish with a touch of naive innocence in her brown eyes. Obediently she went inside. Well, not exactly, but hid behind the curtains.

"Radha, I am also a woman, a prostitute. I was also forced here by life. I know we are not entitled to every feeling in the world. You should know that too."

Radha whimpered like a child. "Lalita, I cannot bind my heart!"

"But understand that he cannot love you. He doesn't! He is being merciful to you, and is somewhat guilty for whatever fate has done. But he won't ever accept you, so stop dreaming."

Radha's eyes closed half as if she was in a state of inebriation. "I know he sees me as any other woman who needs his help. I know his heart is with her. I know I will never be like her. I may be beautiful, but I am not his equal. But Lalita, I do have the right to dream, do I not? Every night I think he is making love to me and not any other man. Every night I dream he is taking me in his shadow. Every night... every night..."

And Radha knelt on the floor, sobbing like a destroyed woman. She cried like she had got nothing left in her world, not even a pinch of peace to soothe her soul.

"They call him a bearer of bad luck. But I know what he is. He is helping me selflessly, even bought books for my daughter to study. He is God in human flesh."

"And thus, he doesn't belong to you, so ask him to not visit you. If you truly love him, Radha, then understand that him visiting you will only tarnish his reputation."

Radha nodded her head. "I shall listen to you."

It was only after chiding Radha that Lalita realised Maya was also present there. She gave her a sorry glance.

"You said you met the head priest yesterday?" Lalita asked. At those words, Radha ceased to sob and looked up at Maya.

Maya, she didn't know why, felt a pang in her heart. All these women suffered every day. They had to cage their hearts and train them to never flutter their wings for any man or woman. They were destined to be unloved, uncared for and neglected.

But still, Maya pinpointed some other kind of pain poking her heart like a spear. She wondered, who was this woman that the head priest loved? Who was she? Where did she live?

"I met him yesterday at the temple. He showed me the shrines there and gave me the prasad."

"I guess, I won't be telling you about the priest," Lalita said. "It will be against my loyalty to Radha to tell you something about her life to you. You wouldn't want more people to know about the scandal, right Radha?"

"I wouldn't want to. I just pray that he doesn't have to end up in such a position as this ever. It was the fault of my husband that he gave in to greed."

Radha got up and held Maya's hand. Maya, in a daze, looked into her magnetic eyes and got lost in there.

"And know that I have no reason to lie. My husband was a culprit and he got his punishment. I am happy to live like this rather than being tortured by someone perpetually. At least my clients don't have a right over my body for more than a night, nor do they lie about loving me. They pay me and leave. But my husband had caged me."

"Let's leave. It's late, you should go back home," Lalita said to Maya, pulling her out before Radha blurted more of the truth.

Devipuram was slowly getting entangled with Maya's life and she could do nothing about it.