- Me
When I said "cash + enjoyment," she initially told me to deposit ten thousand rupees into an account they provided and call back; then they would give me a local Chennai number. Ten thousand? My jaw dropped. The voice on the other end repeated, “Hello…? Hello?”
Since I couldn't afford that, I kept searching for similar ads and calling the numbers. That’s when I saw an ad online, with a Chennai number. When I called, they quoted the same price as the Delhi contact. When I said I couldn’t afford that much, they said, “Alright, come in person,” and gave me the address of their flat in Nungambakkam.
When I went, there was no one at the door. After calling out "Sir... Sir" for a while, a shabbily dressed guy in low-slung jeans came out. His gaze alone asked what I wanted. I told him I was the one who had called, and he asked, “Have you brought the money?” He kept nodding his head as he spoke.
“No, they told me to come in person…”
He looked me up and down, put his hands on his hips, turned his head inside, and called, “Maaji… idhar aao” (Maaji, come here). A stout, middle-aged woman came from inside. I noticed the buttons on her nightgown were mismatched. They spoke rapidly in Hindi. Her gaze remained fixed on me. I felt uneasy and avoided her eyes.
“Pay two thousand rupees and leave. We’ll call you in a week,” the shabby guy said.
“No, I don’t have the money. If you give me four days, I’ll bring it,” I said, waiting for his reply.
He quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper on the table and said, “Take this. Deposit the money in this account and call us afterwards. Then we’ll tell you where to come.”
I nodded quickly and left. Nungambakkam was bustling. Seeing women in jeans and churidars walking past me made me feel excited. I thought I wouldn't have to struggle anymore—everything seemed within reach—but then I remembered the money I still needed. I couldn’t think of anyone but my sister. I immediately called her. She didn’t answer. I called again—no answer. I had her hospital number, so I called that. The receptionist replied, naming a big hospital in the city and asking who I wanted. Was my sister working there?
“Is staff nurse Susheela there?”
“No, she’s gone home,” she said, and I hung up without replying. I took a bus directly to Kodambakkam. You know Sekhar Emporium, right? My house is next to it. A single bedroom flat. It was more like a room in a row of houses above some shops; ours faced inward, away from the street. I heard voices from inside as I took out my key to open the door. The door wasn't locked, so I quietly opened it just enough to slip through. It was dark inside. The voices were coming from the bedroom. It was my sister’s voice.
“Go, Doctor… you always want things right away. It’s a good thing my husband isn’t here. This is just for emergencies… we’ll take care of the rest later, leisurely,” she said. Through the slightly open door, I saw a tall, thin young man wearing glasses standing, and I saw my sister sitting near his feet.
I wasn’t shocked by what she was doing. I just felt a kind of emptiness. I went to the small shop across the street and bought a cigarette. He came out before I finished half of it. The Yamaha parked outside must have been his—it looked like it cost around eighty thousand rupees. I wanted one.
A little while after he left, I went back inside. My sister was in the bathroom, loudly spitting and rinsing her mouth with water. She looked at me, surprised. “I need some money—three thousand rupees,” I said.
“What do you think I’m giving away here? I don’t have any. I just came back from a tiring night shift. Don’t bother me.”
“It’s really urgent… I’ll give it back in a couple of months if you want.”
“Oh, you’ll give it back? From where?”
I didn’t reply. I felt angry. Why so many questions? If she has it, why not just give it?
“I told you I don’t have any. I have to ask my husband for everything. I don’t have money,” she said. I looked up at her and asked, putting emphasis on the word “husband,” “Didn’t the doctor give you any?” She looked at me, startled.
“What are you saying?”
“I know, I saw. It’s your problem. I have my own problems…” I said. She didn't say anything.
“Does Mama know?” I asked, again emphasizing “Mama.” My sister opened her purse, took out the money, and gave it to me. There was exactly three thousand rupees. I immediately went to the bank, deposited the money, and called them. They said they would check and let me know. After that, they never answered the phone again.
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