2 The Exams

I stared at myself in the puddle of water left after the recent rainfall on the porch. Thin and a sallow complexion. I barely looked above 12. My cheekbones stood out against my sunken cheeks and I had dark circles under my restless eyes. I had worn a hand me down dress provided by the social worker - Anita, I think her name tag read. She never stopped to talk to me and escaped as soon as she could.

I looked at my hands, at my skin and wondered what it was about it that made it untouchable. For years, I had tried to find the meaning of that word. When I fell down and hurt myself, the blood that flowed was the same as that of my neighbour's son, Hans. When he had come after football practice one day, he had been limping and I saw the bandage soaked with blood around his knee. If it was not about the blood, then what was it about? I looked at my neck where there was a scar from where I had been branded when I turned 3 by my own father. My grandmother had begged him not to do it, to save me from a life of servitude and slavery, but he heated the iron in the fireplace and put it on my skin, burning the mark deep in my skin and spirit.

I never had a real friend, each time girls of my age saw the mark of my neck, they would stay away from me. There were others with marks like mine, but they seem ashamed and preferred to keep to their own family. It was hard not to have anyone to talk to, so I would spend hours talking to the diary Granny had left me at her death. I would lean it against my mattress and imagine that I was talking to Granny herself. Before her death, I had asked her why we were called untouchables. She had told me a story which I still remember.

****There was once a king who had five sons. He did not know to whom the throne should be left as he loved them equally. He decided to subject them to tests to assess their skills. He first of all had them fight against each other and the winner was deemed as the best warrior. He had his minister ask them complicated riddles and questions and the one who was able to answer all the questions correctly was given the title of the Intellectual. He then assessed who could best trade with the surrounding kingdoms and that brother was seen as the best trader. One day, drought befell the kingdom and it was only thanks to the good decisions of the fourth brother that the crops could be saved. Till now all the four brothers had already shown their skills and talents and only the last brother was left. He was the one who was the most capable of ruling the kingdom as he had all four skills that his brothers possessed and this incited the jealousy of his brothers. They thus decided to make him lose his esteem in the King's eyes. One day while the younger brother was meditating, they accused him of trying to attract evil spirits so as to steal the throne and they had him expelled from the kingdom. News was that he went to a foreign land where he became the king of an even more prosperous kingdom, Bhuvar, but this was never proved as all the citizens were forbidden from ever coming into contact with him. He became a pariah.****

Another time when I asked her the same question, she simply told me that society was divided into 5 parts. At the top of the hierarchy there were the Intellectuals, the decision-makers; then came the warriors, those who were in the police force or the army; then the farmers and merchants; fourth, the labourers; then in last position came the Untouchables, that is, the street sweepers, the latrine cleaners. At the beginning, these divisions were here simply to let people know which tasks they could do, but across the ages, the ruling parties changed it to suit their needs. All the messy and measly tasks declined by others were given to the Untouchables, who became the scapegoat. This theory was more plausible and I believed her first story to be a mere invention to make me feel less bad about my heritage.

I had asked her why Untouchables could not study or, if they had good skills, protect the country. She had replied that in society people refused changes as it made them feel better to always have someone inferior to them.

'But, you Dami, never give up on your dreams. Don't think that you are inferior to others. Cultivate your talents and one day, there will come a time when people will recognize your valor.' The first time when she had told me that, I was still innocent to the ways of the world and I had heeded her advice. I would do my best in all tasks; I learned how to sew, I focused on learning new things. However, life proved her words wrong. However good I was at everything I did, all I got in return was shame and foul words. When I repaired the common tap in the village, I was accused of tainting the water with my dirty hands, when I repaired the mechanism of the local merry-go-round, I was pushed away for trying to harm the local children. Even if I set out with good intentions to help people, I was pushed away and insulted.

But now that Miss Charles had told me to take part in the national exams, maybe it would show people that I was worth something. The little orphan was not just a waste of space, not a blot on humankind. I took a deep breath and smoothed down the worn out fabric of my dress. Then I set out to go to school.