Sitting at the window she waited for him every day,
“He’ll be there any moment even today.”
Excited Bhooli’s eyes stuck to the road,
“To help me, Bhooli, how many times have I told!”
Sweeping the floor, her mother said.
On hearing her mother, Bhooli ran to make the bed.
“MAA, I’m ten and a grown-up girl now,
It’s time for me to take my marriage vow.
MAA, will you get me married to the tanker man?
He has plenty of water in his van.
We will never run out of water again,
Neither will we have to go far in search of water then.
In this scorching heat without the slippers,
Even at night amongst those deadly creatures,
Baba will not have to drink the field’s dirty water,
Nor will our fields ever go drier.
I’ll not have to wait for my turn to bathe,
We won’t have to face God’s wrath.
No one will die again like my lil brother,
Or ever fall ill like my grandmother.
Our hens and cows will never be thirsty,
All the villagers will respect us for our own sea.
MAA, everything will change once I get married—
The tanker man will be the groom, and I, his little bride.”
Bhooli’s innocence shook her mother upright,
She could not hold her tears and hugged her tight.
This is the story of Bhooli, not just one—
Remember, lack of water will destroy everyone…
By Priyanka Patwari Sitani
Priyanka Patwari Sitani is a practising Chartered Accountant by profession and a writer by heart. She can be contacted at casitani@gmail.com.
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