ALICE IN WONDERLAND

Kanchi: The smallest female.

Somewhere near Darjeeling, at the feet of the mountains, the cold darkness takes over the murky forest hypnotized by the moon. It is around five in the morning and dawn is near. From above one of the branches of a pine tree, a grand owl perches in wait the straight path that appears shy and timorous through the trees. Alerted by the sound of steps from afar, the owl turns his head brusquely to the source of the noise and he hoots in warning. Sentinel of the forest. Someone is closing up quickly and the owl gazes expectantly.

A young woman runs without a cease, penetrating the dark. She is wearing traditional Nepali clothes, with a little pouch hanging at the waist. Kanchi, of about twenty few years old, is dark-haired, with golden skin and big black teary eyes; she wears her hair braided into a long plait.

Kanchi runs with no rest; the anguish steals from her, for moments, her reason and subjects her will to a feeling of confusion and disorientation. She doesn’t stop looking bewildered at the sides and disturbed when she looks back.  She runs scared with clumsy steps at risk to slip at any moment. She stops for an instant, victim to her tiredness and places her hands on her knees. She breathes heavily with much anxiety and keeps on looking to the sides, checking if she is following the right path. She raises her face to the sky and gazes at the moon, which remains quietly attentive following her. Half moon protected by a starry sky. All of them are witness to her escape.

A strange noise, possibly from some animal prowling among the bushes, frightens her, and alarmed, Kanchi goes on with her evasion.

Her mobile phone’s melody rings and Kanchi stumbles upon a stone and falls – an obstacle on her path. She falls down and leans her hands on the wet ground and searches for her mobile. Shyam is calling her and a shiver goes up her body. Kanchi contemplates if she should answer or not. Finally, she takes the call but remains quiet. Some agitated man’s voice, a sort of murmur, can be heard. Shyam seems to be very angry and Kanchi doesn’t stop shaking her head. She clutches her mobile phone full of fury and throws it at a tree. The huge pine shakes vigorously and spears an echo of exaltation. The birds, anonymous and invisible, hidden among the branches, scatter into flight celebrating Kanchi’s act.

Kanchi remains low, squatting. She knits her brow disturbed and her eyes are wet with tears of anger. She cries anguished but she tries to calm herself. She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths. The moon starts singing her a lullaby.

Kanchi open her eyes. The moon has given pass to the sun that saturates slowly the forest and the mountains giving them life and color. Kanchi is now more relaxed. She stands up and goes on with her way, this time with more conscience and not that clumsy. She seems to be not lost anymore and decides not to run, just walks with hurry.

Kanchi reaches town and breaches the quiet streets. The business are waking up, the first chya of the morning are now boiling at the street stands. The cows walk with no hurry in search of breakfast and Kanchi follows her course to the bus station.

The bus station is crowded enough. The buses motors roar waiting for begin the depart. Some of them leave the station full of passengers. She goes to the information stand to ask to the man there.

“Excuse me.” She sounds nervous and unsure. “When is the next bus leaving.”

The man seems to be part of some tale, with that feline expression.

“The next bus to where?” The man says astonished.

She doesn’t know where to go. “I don’t know.” She says thoughtfully and shy.

“Where do you want to go woman?” He is stunned.

Kanchi stops catch by her uncertainly. All of a sudden, a big Cheshire cat settles on the stand from a jump mewing sweetly. The man scares him and the cat responds him furious and run away by a jump.

“I don’t know.” Kanchi says again.

“That bus is leaving in ten minutes.” The man says with clemency and pointing with the finger a point in concrete.

Kanchi turns up saying thanks but the curiosity invades her and turn up again to the man.

“And where is that bus going to?”

“Ma’am, what’s the point? I guess it doesn’t matter.” He says.

Kanchi stares at him bewitched.

Jordi Boldú. New Delhi, July 31, 2011.