Pink Knickers

Pinki skipped from one foot to another as she made her way to the park.

They had named her well. Pinki. Actually, it was Parvati, but seeing her love for pink, soon everyone was calling her Pinki, and she would not answer any other name. Parvati is so old-fashioned. But Pinki? It was a beautiful name, soft, fluffy delicate, fragile. Pinki loved everything pink: candy floss, strawberry milkshake, flowers; her whole room was done up in her favourite colour. She always wore something in pink herself - a kurta, a dress, a hair tie, lipstick. No wonder she was known as the Lollipop, of course behind her back, in college.

Pinki was very happy. The pink knickers she had ordered online had just arrived. The lacy underwear she now wore was oh so delicate, like a feather against her skin. Pinki had spent a good amount of her pocket money to buy it. She was wearing it for this special day.

All for Vikram. She had met Vikram some two months ago. Pinki was hanging around in the park with friends. Vikram was also there with some of his friends, and they got talking. In fact, it was Pinki who struck up a conversation with the handsome youth, she was a friendly soul. After a few meetings in the presence of friends, they began meeting separately, just the two of them, and as their friendship grew so did their passion.

Vikram was a school dropout with a part-time job in a courier agency, but what he lacked in brains he made up in looks. Pinki was thrilled to have such a good-looking young man as her boyfriend. They met regularly at the park where they had first met after Pinki finished classes at college and Vikram his work of picking up and dropping parcels for the courier agency.  

When her father got to know of the affair, he was livid. He had such big dreams for her. But Pinki was his favourite child and she was able to bring him around after some cajoling, some tantrums, some fuss. He had agreed to let her see Vikram, ‘but you must tell him he must give up his job and complete his graduation,’ he had said. ‘I’ll pay for his education. Then he can join our family business.’

She was going to tell Vikram that today. ‘Won’t he be surprised?’ Pinki said aloud. ‘And I will surprise him further,’ she winked to herself at the thought of her new, lacy, pink knickers as she made her way to their usual place under the rain tree in a secluded part of the park. Its green canopy was covered with dainty pink flowers. They always met at six in the evening. Vikram was very punctual, usually reaching there before her, but there was no sign of him today. She sat down on a bench under the tree, reminded of the many stolen kisses there, and waited for Vikram to show up.

It was past seven, and the sky that was ruby-coloured a while ago was now a dull grey. Still, Pinki sat there, alone on the bench under the tree, ‘their tree’; she would wait till she had seen Vikram and given him the news, and much else. 

The watchman on night duty was taking a round of the park when he first noticed the girl on the bench. He had made several rounds by now, but she was still there. It would soon be closing time, the sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the few people who were still in the park were hurrying home. The watchman knew the girl well by sight, she was there almost every evening with that handsome youth. But he was not around today. She looked dejected. He picked up a conversation with her. Pinki, always friendly with everyone, was only too happy to have someone to talk to while she waited for Vikram.

The next day, at six in the morning, when the morning watchman came for a change of duty, there was no sign of the night watchman. He was not there in the Watchman Cabin either. Perhaps he was taking a round of the park. The morning shift watchman went around the park to locate him. Had he taken ill and gone home early? But he always left a note in that case; there was nothing on the stool in the cabin today, he wondered as he approached the corner of the park. That is when he found a girl sprawled on the park bench under the rain tree. Her clothes were in a dishevelled condition and he could see from far she was not breathing. Her face had turned purple and around her neck was a pair of pink knickers.