by Mehreen Ahmed
bitter lemon
“What a strange name? Mowgli’s
Mother,” Brenda Braidy said.
“Yes, very strange, ” said her
friend Frieda Jane.
“But do you know what?” Brenda
asked.
“What?”
“What’s even stranger, is that no
one really knows, who she is? She’s a mystery.”
“Gosh! What do you even mean?”
“She was called by that name,
Mowgli’s Mother. But no body knows why? Because she was childless. Everyone
thought she couldn’t bear any children.”
“How extraordinary? Frieda cried.
“She told you that? How do you know?”
“Well, I asked where her son Mowgli
was? She said she didn’t have any. She was always known by that name,
nonetheless.”
“Wow! That’s mad!
“Ye. That’s what’s most puzzling.
This has also puzzled the police,” said Brenda.
Brenda Braidy runs a corner shop on
Paddington Street. She is meeting her friend today, Frieda Jane in Cafe
Boulevard just two blocks up the street. She is describing to her about a
missing person by the name of Mowgli’s mother.
“Did it ever bother you? That kind
of a name, when you hired her? Did it ever occur to you that it could be a
false name?”
“Yes, it did. But then when I asked
her, she smiled and kept quiet. Her qualifications were okay, so I thought I
should give her the job. I didn’t want to discriminate on the basis of her
name. Her passport and references checked out. It was just that name. But since
neither of her previous employers bothered, I didn’t give it much thought. I
gave her the job.”Brenda explained.
“Hmm, this is kind of strange,
though,” Frieda said.
“What is?” Brenda asked.
“That name,” Frieda said. “How long
did she stay?”
“Oh! Less than six months. Not even
a year.”
“I find it a bit odd that this
person has a track record of moving in and out of places in less than a year,”
said Frieda thoughtfully.
“It is a bit odd, isn’t it? And this
time she didn’t even ask for a reference for her next job. In the last ten
years, she has had at least ten jobs.”
“How old is she?”
“According to her passport, she is
thirty.”
“That’s pretty young.”
“Yes, police don’t even have a clue
to her whereabouts. When they searched her place, everything appeared normal.
She didn’t take any belongings with her. Not even her clothes. Her closet was
full of clothes, but surprisingly her fridge was empty. There was nothing. Not
even milk. Her larder was empty too. It seemed she lived on air.”
“That’s so strange that she were to
disappear in thin air too, huh?” Frieda added.
“Hmm, I guess, I don’t know, we just
have to wait until the police find something.”
“I guess, hey?” Frieda said.
“Anyway, I got to go, really! I am so late. Catch you soon.” Frieda said goodbye and left in a real hurry.
“See ye’ I’ll call.”
“Bye.
Brenda, sits thinking about the odds
of finding this person, Mowgli’s Mother. Her passport says, she is from Asian
background, who has seen a bit of the world, and has lived in various places.
In Athens she sold flowers. In Madrid she worked as kitchen hand, and waitress;
nothing illegal, or abnormal. She seems to have received the right kind of visa
and work permit too. But on her passport, her name appears as Mowgli’s Mother
and authorities don’t seem to think anything wrong with it.
Brenda decides to carry out her own
investigation. She doesn’t know the full picture, yet. She only knows what
Mowgli’s Mother has cared to show her. The passport, visas and the work permits
and all that. Brenda wants to know more. More about this person who has simply
just vanished cluelessly. She decides to visit the immigration office one day.
The immigration officer, reluctant to carry out a conversation with her, let
alone give any details, finally agrees, when Brenda tells her that it is a dob
in.
“Who do you want to dob in?”
“This woman who calls herself
Mowgli’s Mother.”
“Is that the name she goes by?”
“Yes, that is the name on her
passport and on all her reference letters.”
“Hmm, odd. Very odd.”
“I think so too. There’s something
going on here.”
“Let me check.”
The immigration officer, types the
name Mowgli’s Mother on the key-board. Nothing comes up. She tries again. Still
no results. Then suddenly, the computer crashes. She is forced to log out. She
looks at Brenda suspiciously. And Brenda looks back at her. There is definitely
something wrong somewhere. That morning is completely wasted for the officer as
well as for her. Brenda takes her leave and returns to her shop.
Weeks go by, days and months, still
nothing. No news. Her friend Frieda Jane is also worried. By now, there should
have been something, some news on this missing person. She is a well traveled.
A women of the world, who has traveled the world with legitimate passports and
visas. Brenda thinks, she needs to contact immigration again to check if
anybody has left the country, by sea, land or air. Investigation reports have
already stated that the missing person has not been found. Could it be that she has been murdered and
dumped somewhere? Maybe, who knows?
Next morning. Brenda takes off early
on bus straight to the immigration office into the city. She waits for an
officer in the waiting room. As she waits, she sees an ambulance come around
and parked up-front. Then there is a commotion and the receptionist walks up to
her frantically. That the officer she is to meet today, has had an unexpected
seizure. She needs to be taken to the hospital in that ambulance. This gets
Brenda very worried. First the computer crashes, now this; a healthy person
becoming ill. There seems to be a series a mishaps and obstacles related to
this case. What is this deterrent? She tries to understand. She calls her
friend Frieda, but her mobile is switched off. By now, all this is really
starting to frighten Brenda. Since, this day is wasted as well, she heads back
to her shop.
As she gets off the bus, she sees
smoke coming from the direction of her shop. She walks faster and arrives at
her shop panting. But there is no shop. The shop burnt to cinder. “Oh no,” she
gasps and sits down on the side of the road. The fire-fighters try relentlessly
to put out the fire. The ambulance, the police, everyone is here by now. They
want to interview Brenda. The owner of the shop is on television. She is
telling them about the curious case of Mowgli’s Mother. She is telling the
world, the freakish chain of events to the lead up to this. Her shop has now been
burnt down. Something or someone is trying to sabotage her attempts to find
this person, known as Mowgli’s Mother. That is how it all feels at least. As
though the disappearance isn’t enough, now this? Just then an sms shows up on
her screen. It is from an unknown number, “Frieda Jane in hospital, a
heart-attack.”
“What?” Brenda screams, and then
faints.
After twenty-four hours, Brenda
wakes up in a hospital bed. She sees herself, waking up and walking through a
white corridor wearing a white gown. Everything is so white that it hurts her
eyes. Then she sees something flying towards her, a spirit, a phantom. It comes
closer, and she looks at her intently, “Mowgli’s Mother? Is it really you?”
“Yes, it is. Stop looking for me?”
“Who are you? What are you, a
phantom?
“Think whatever you wish, but know
this that Mowgli’s Mother doesn’t exist, never did.
“But, but?”
“But, but?”
“No buts, the papers you saw? The
passports and the visas are a lie. You saw what I wanted you to see. There are
neither any passports, nor visas, or any references of my existence anywhere in
the world. You saw me, a person, a living person of blood and flesh, does not
exist. Like I said before, I am a phantom. I am here. I am nowhere.”
The doctors at her bed-side are
trying to resuscitate her. She regains consciousness. She feels anxious,
doctors running around the room, this hospital clinic. A nurse smiles at her
and says,“you will be okay. Not to worry, dear.” While still there, and she
receives an sms from Frieda that she has been released from the hospital. Soon
there is another sms from immigration.
“We checked. There are no records,
nationally or internationally, matching with this person’s details. Case
closed.”
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