‘The Return of Bhuri Bai’

Pradeep Gupta
We were woken up early morning by our daughter – in law, Deepika, with the shocking news that Bhuri, our domestic help, had been murdered by her husband the previous night.
Bhuri, the wife of a migrant labourer from Chattarpur in Madhya Pradesh, had been working with us for a couple of years. She was a demure worker fully assimilated with our family. Particularly our three year old grand daughter Shranya who would not have her morning breakfast unless fed by ‘Bhuri Aunty’. Her two daughters Sanjana and Banno had become great pals of Shranya.
Bhuri’s husband had also visited us a couple of times to fetch her when it got late. He seemed to be a mild mannered and a caring husband. The couple and the kids seemed to be a happy lot. Bhuri would proudly show the report card of her daughters to my wife after every class test. They were bright kids. The news of her sudden death, that too at the hands of her husband, therefore, came as a big shock and left us benumbed with disbelief. I immediately caught hold of local papers to confirm the death. The newspapers indeed confirmed the gruesome murder of a migrant labourer woman, Bhuri Bai, by her husband during the previous night in the same locality in which our domestic help was residing.
A pall of gloom descended on our house. We all recalled how well the lady had served us, particularly during the marriage of our two children. My wife expressed regret for scolding the lady a couple of times for shoddy work. Deepika was apprehensive of being involved in the investigations in the case. There was also the worry of finding a suitable substitute in her place. We were all seated   around the dinning table reminiscening over her association with the family with no mood to eat. My wife with a lump in her throat tried to explain to little Shranya that ‘Bhuri Aunty’ would no longer join her at breakfast every morning.
While we were deeply engrossed in mourning the demise of Bhuri, we heard a familiar cry of someone hailing Shranya. It sounded like Bhuri! For a moment we all thought it was the ghost of Bhuri!! We all looked at the front door. There stood Bhuri in her unassuming manner. We all steered at her in disbelief. She entered the lobby blissfully unaware of the mood in the house. Our disbelief gradually turned to joy. My wife and daughter -in – law hugged her profusely with tears rolling down their cheeks. Bhuri was both amused and bewildered by our behaviour. But when we informed her of the morning’s happenings, she unraveled the mystery by clarifying that death had taken place of her name sake residing in the same locality. Subsequently we found out that in our confusion we had overlooked to notice that the name of the husband of the deceased lady as reported in the news papers was different from our own Bhuri.
The mood in the house changed dramatically from melancholy to merriment. Bhuri was cordially invited to join the whole family at the dinning table for breakfast. My wife graciously allowed her a day’s off to celebrate her resurrection.

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