Deborah Ellis - No Ordinary Day

The Best Day of My Life

THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE was the day I found out I was all alone in the world.

This is how it happened.

I was picking up coal.

No. I was supposed to be picking up coal, but I wasnt. I was tired of picking up coal. I was tired of coal.

Being tired of coal in Jharia is no good, because coal is all there is in Jharia. There is coal in pits and coal in piles and coal in mines under the ground. There is coal on the roads and coal in peoples hair and coal in peoples chests that makes them cough and cough.

There is even coal in the air. It comes up through cracks in the earth from the coal fires that have been burning under the town for nearly one hundred years.

If youre a man, you work in the mines or the pits, hacking at the coal with pickaxes and shovels.

If youre a woman, you walk up the narrow steep trails with large heavy baskets of coal on your head.

If youre a child, you run around and pick up any stray lumps of coal you can find. If the bosses see you doing this theyll chase you, and theyll hit you if they catch you. So you have to move fast.

On this very happy day I was supposed to be picking up coal. I had my coal bag over my shoulder. There was a bit of coal in it but not very much. Instead of running around the coal fields, I was trying to convince the shopkeeper that I had a coin in my hand.

Let me see it, said Mr. Bannerjee. He sat in his chair and flicked his horsetail fly swatter around.

Oh, its right here, I said, holding up my clenched fist.

What is it? Twenty paisas? Ten? You can buy one sweet, maybe two. Choose, and then pay and go.

I stretched out the moment before I replied. Mr. Bannerjee had a tiny television set in his shop, on a shelf next to the jars of skin-whitening cream. The picture it showed was fizzy, and it jumped up and down, but I could still see the Bollywood dancers. I waved my head the way the dancers did, trying to remember the steps to try later.

Choose. Then pay and go, he repeated.

Mr. Bannerjees shop was made of scrap wood and old cardboard boxes, and it was completely open on one side. He slept in it at night to keep thieves away. But he didnt want anyone watching his TV unless they were customers.

What did you say?

You heard what I said! Mr. Bannerjee waved his fly swatter in bigger circles, but I wasnt worried. He didnt like to leave his chair. It was a bit of a game I played sometimes, seeing how long I could watch his television before he chased me away.

He knew I didnt really have any money. I never had any money.

I managed to stay a few moments longer. Then the TV went to full fizz, and there was no point in hanging around.

I wandered down to the railway tracks, picking up bits of coal when I saw them but not putting any effort into looking.

Piles of trash lined the tracks. Ragpickers and goats poked through it.

I stayed away from the bigger piles of garbage. I didnt feel like getting into an argument, and ragpickers sometimes guarded their territory.

I kept my eyes on my feet and shuffled garbage around with my toes. I wished I was a goat. Goats ate everything. If I was a goat, I would never be hungry.

Hey, theres Valli. Valli, come and throw rocks with us or well throw rocks at you.

I looked up. Some of my cousins were out on the tracks with their friends. None of them liked me. I didnt know why.

She wont. Shes too scared.

That was my cousin Sanjay. He was my size and never forgave me for the time I beat him up when we were younger. I wasnt allowed to eat until he was finished, and then I was given whatever food was left on his plate. He started stuffing himself, just to watch me be hungry. I stood it for three days. Then I let him have it. Smashed the metal plate down on his stupid head. I got a beating from my uncle for it, but Sanjay always left at least some food behind after that.

He got back at me in other ways, though. Sneaky ways. Like kicking me at night so it was hard to go to sleep. He called me names like pig-face and dirt-brain. I tried to insult him back but my words didnt have as much power as his. He knew he was worth more than me. We both knew it.

I was afraid to throw rocks but I couldnt let him see that. And I couldnt let his friends see that I was scared. If they did, they would be on me faster than a goat on garbage.

I walked quickly into the middle of the pack and picked up a rock.

Just looking at the targets made me shake.

On the other side of the tracks, a stones throw away, monsters lived among the garbage dumps and dung heaps. Their faces were not human. Some had no noses. Some had hands without fingers that they waved in the air as they tried to protect their heads from our rocks.

But I didnt care, as long as they stayed on their side of the tracks. They were unclean, foul creatures. They carried the sins of a former life, and if you got too close, they would turn you into one of them.

Thats what my uncle said.

You eat too much! he would scream, when the pain in his chest got bad and he had no money for drink to make it better. Ill break your arms and send you down the tracks to beg with those animals! You are a curse to me!

And then, in the night, his voice quiet and his breath in my ear, telling me to make no noise or the monsters would grab me in my sleep, drag me away and tear me apart. And I would tremble and bite my lip and pray to the gods for the sun to rise.

I slowly pulled my arm back to get ready for the throw.

I closed my eyes and let my rock fly. I didnt know if it hit one of them or not.

One of the stones came flying back at us.

Sanjay bent down to pick it up.

Dont touch it! Youll turn into a monster just like them, one of my cousins friends shouted. Thats one of the ways they get their victims.