Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

The alarm went off at its scheduled time. Getting the blanket off, Ron suddenly feels lighter. From the mirror across the room, a familiar face stares back, but it isn't his own. It’s his wife’s. The reflection moves in sync with his own movements. “Wake up, Ron. Wake up now!” Ron slaps his face. His hands feel softer, his skin smoother. Blue nail paint smeared across his long nails – a shade he bought Rashmi for their anniversary.

Confusion quickly changes to panic when he notices himself sleeping on the bed in his favorite smiley-emoticon boxers he bought from Myntra. He reaches out to touch the face that was his till last night. The man shifts around and hugs a bolster to moan back to sleep – the bolster his wife can’t sleep without!

Ron and Rashmi have been trying for a baby for years. After three failed IVF attempts and lakhs out of the bank, Rashmi decided to respond to an ad in the local newspaper, which promised “a solution to every problem.” Written in fine print below the promise were a list of specialities. “Child” topped the list.

The couple decided to get themselves an appointment. Ron followed Rashmi when she moved a greasy floral printed curtain to step into a shady room. The walls, barely holding together, were covered with photographs of smiling babies, rich men, and happy couples—most downloaded from the Internet. On one corner of the room was a red Nilkamal table covered with a plastic cover. Across the table was a man looking intently from on top his glasses. The stench of paan-masala filled the room when he spoke.

“Want baby?” he asked. Ron immediately felt Rashmi completely in awe of the man. “Yes baba…sir…doctor,” she mumbled in reponse.

“Understand. Sit.”

The couple made themselves comfortable in two plastic chairs opposite the man. The flooring felt sticky.

“Man drink this,” the man instructed, handing over a little capsule with green liquid in it.

“Woman drink this,” he added handing over a similar capsule with grey liquid.

“Then try for baby. Guarantee result. If not happen, call number. Full refund,” he said signalling for the couple to leave.

Outside the chamber sat a young frail boy collecting money. While Ron took out two notes for a thousand each, he couldn’t help but notice a woman, a little far off, being blocked out of view by a few people. With the crowd around, he could hear a few disjointed words, “I… not… her… side-effect… him.” Not paying too much attention, the couple grabbed a burger on the way and drove back home.

It suddenly all makes sense now. Panicked, Ron opens his laptop and goes on the Internet to find out about similar experiences. A familiar face stares back at him in the search results. It’s the man from the room. Under his picture was the news headline: “Man Wanted for Witchcraft: Identity Altering Drug Doing the Rounds.”

Bounce

Bounce… bounce… bounce…

A grey ball kept hitting the floor while David spoke on the phone.

On the other side of the room large beady eyes followed the ball in rapt attention. Though the heart imagined the rubber push up his itchy canines, the heavy lunch made it a remote possibility for his paws to move a single inch. The coziness of the pillows next to the warmth of Sarah’s thighs was too much to give up for a ball.

But he still wanted it. The white fluffy tail kept giving a weak wag as if in sync with the bounce of the grey ball. Sarah noticed and called out to David to pass her the ball. But David was too engrossed in the conversation to pay attention.

That’s the last of the cozy home he remembered.

In his dreams, the ball still bounces, the sound of his leash being pulled out still gets him excited in his sleep. Sometimes, he tries to navigate through the cold hard floor of his enclosure to cuddle up to Sarah’s warm thighs, never to reach it. The care-takers at the shelter still find it amusing that he sleeps in one spot and wakes at another often wagging crazily in his sleep.

Customary wags and weak licks keep Holden alive. His near-blind eyes and weak legs still look for his familiar footing at home. He never knew when the cozy comfort of David’s car changed to the hard flooring of this place he now spends his days. The ball, the leash, the food bowls never changed, but the people around did. Five years ago.

He wished he walked up to David that day and begged for him to throw the ball or licked Sarah to express how much he loved them. He wishes he never found the car seat too comfortable for sleep. Or the food too bland for his liking. He wishes he never pooped on the grass or peed on the pole. Something must have ticked them off.

He knows he isn’t alone. Sickly eyes, once beady like his, search for home all around him. Waiting for their Davids and Sarahs. The new members bring back the pain of his first realization. The howling, the moaning, the constant whining reminds him of his first day in the shelter.

Sometimes, he hears balls bouncing off the hard floor. But these days, his paws are too weak to move a single inch and eyes too weak to follow it.

Kidnap!

A half-eaten pink candy floss in one hand and a prized pink balloon on the other. She had her instructions clear in her head.

“Don’t go where I can’t see you.”

“Behave.”

“Don’t draw too much attention.”

Chanting each in her head repetitively, she head to her favorite spot, the carousel. She had to get up on the black horse for the ride. Her eyes were glued to the woman in blue, head full of golden curls, clutching on to her little baby boy as she stepped into the seating carriage in the carousel.

The boy, hardly half a year old, looked at her and grinned. He was pointed at the balloon. She handed it over and patted the boy on the head. The mother smiled back. The ride was about to start and Sheena quickly grabbed onto the black horse making herself comfortable. The candy floss smeared on the face of the horse a bit, but no harm done.

Through the 3 minutes ride, Sheena felt like a princess riding through the lush green countryside. She liked to imagine that everyone around her were her to beckon, her army. She was a princess after all. The candy stick was her weapon of choice. A heavy sword that could cut through anything. She was riding to war.

As the carousel slowed down, Sheena looked around, panicked, and started weeping. Lightly at first, but as the realization grew strong, her wails found a loud voice. She was in terrible trouble. The lady in blue came over, got her off the horse, and kindly asked her, “What seems to be the trouble young lady?”

Still weeping, broken words escaped her pink lips, “I can’t find my mother. She was right here.” The lady started looking. With a fair enough description from Sheena, the carousel caretaker called the administration office. Announcements were made, but Sheena’s mom wasn’t to be found anywhere. “May be she was kidnapped?” Sheena voiced her concern aloud.

“We’ll find her sweetheart. In the meantime, come home with us. Have a warm meal. We’ll head to the police station in the morning.” Sheena agreed.

Sheena and the lady left for the police station in the morning, as promised. Even before getting into the car, Sheena quickly ran across to the park and hugged a woman in red, crying hysterically. “You came for me, mom. I thought I would die. She drugged my candy floss, and even told the guards at the amusement park that I was lost! She tied me to a tree mom.”

Even before she could realize what was happening, Linda had handcuffs on her wrists. Her golden curls being pushed into a cop car. Sheena and her mom thanked the cops teary eyed. No one was listening to Linda’s side of the story.

As the cop car drove off, Sheena handed the key to her mom. “You did good Sheena. Let’s go get your baby brother. He will be your responsibility now. Train him well.”