Fifteen Lanes - S.J. Laidlaw Page 0,16

found myself outside with Aamaal, perched on the step of the building next door to ours, which housed our local heroin den. The owner was one of a few in the neighborhood who would allow us to huddle in his doorway. He thought a couple of young girls out front would throw off any police who might be suspicious of his business. For a rupee I promised to tell him if I saw the cops coming, though the regular bribes he paid ensured that was unlikely.

My friend Parvati kept us company with her baby brother, Eka. He was fast asleep in her arms. Parvati could have left him at home under her mother’s bed, but she’d heard there was a group of foreigners coming through our neighborhood. This happened periodically. There was a tour company that specialized in showing off the poor areas of Mumbai. My neighborhood, Kamathipura, was an especially popular destination. The tourists gawked at our mothers as if they were Madari monkeys performing for coins. They didn’t look at us though, the children of Kamathipura. If they noticed us at all, they quickly turned away.

Parvati was determined to get money from these foreigners. She called it “only fair,” though she knew they wouldn’t share her sense of justice. It would take some trickery to squeeze it out of them, which was why she’d brought Eka. It was common knowledge that foreigners couldn’t resist babies. Professional beggars would borrow or even rent babies to increase their earnings.

Parvati tried to enlist Aamaal as well. “When I spot them, you must start crying, Aamaal, and clutch your tummy like you’re hungry.”

“I am hungry,” grumbled Aamaal. She was cranky because she wanted to watch TV. Our small TV was in the room where Ma and the aunties entertained customers. There would be no TV for either of us that night, or any night. I wasn’t allowed to bring Aamaal inside until she was ready to drop from exhaustion so that she’d sleep peacefully under the bed without disrupting business. Many aunties drugged their children at night. Ma only did that when we were too sick to stay outside.

“That’s even better,” said Parvati. “If you’re really hungry, you should have no trouble convincing them. Remember to grab the woman, if there is one, and don’t let go until she gives you something. If the amount is too small you must cry louder. Money is nothing to them. They’ll forget it in an instant. You, if you’re clever, can live off it for a week.”

“I’m not so sure,” I said. “I think they must love money very much. It’s never easy to get them to part with it.”

“Perhaps we should undo her braids,” said Parvati. “She looks too clean.”

“I spent half the morning picking out her lice and oiling her hair. I certainly hope she looks clean.”

“There they are!”

We all watched the group making its way toward us.

“Start crying now, Aamaal,” urged Parvati. “It will look more natural if your face is already red when they arrive.”

“I don’t want to,” said Aamaal, though her lower lip trembled. Like me, she knew what Ma would do if she caught us begging.

Parvati sighed. “All right, watch me this time. You’ll see how easy it is.”

Dragging one foot, as if she were lame, Parvati hobbled out to the center of the street. She didn’t even try to shelter Eka from the rain. He woke up and screamed his annoyance. Parvati ignored him as she focused intently on the approaching group. Cupping her hand and putting the tips of her fingers together, she gestured toward her mouth, making the motions of eating. She really did look pitiful.

There were six foreigners, three men and three women, with a local guide. A couple of them gave Parvati sidelong looks. The ones nearest shied away, almost tripping over each other in their determination to avoid her. Parvati limped after them.

“Just one rupee,” she called out in her heavily accented English. I almost laughed. She would certainly not be satisfied if that was all they gave her.

The foreigners looked at their guide, who glared at Parvati. “Get away. Stop bothering them.”

“Please, just one rupee. My brother is hungry.” She singled out one of the women, catching up to her and grabbing her shirt. The woman gasped and pulled away, dragging Parvati and Eka with her. The guide raised his hand to Parvati threateningly but she stared him down. The guides were guests in our neighborhood as much as the foreigners. He