A family torn into two: Stranded 50 km away, two girls yearn for parents in Mumbai

“Please get my mother back, Aanchal misses her very much,” wails Khushali.

The Shindes are daily wagers who moved to Ambernath along with their children five months ago to work under a contractor who was repairing a municipal drain.

“We went to Kandivali on March 19 to visit my sister Lalita. On March 22 (the day of Janta Curfew), my husband and I went back to Ambernath to collect our wages from the contractor. It was a big amount, but when we reached here, the contractor said the payment would be delayed by a day or two and so we stayed back. Little did we know, a nationwide lockdown would be announced and we would be separated for so long from our children. We had been hoping that the trains will start on April 14, but that was not to be,” says Surekha (26), mother of the two children, on the phone from Ambernath.

Aanchal and Khushali’s parents and their brother. (Express Photo)

“Majhya pori vaat baghat aahet (my daughters are waiting for me) Please take me back to them,” Surekha pleads.

Shekhar, her husband, rues, “We have no food here anymore. Twelve days ago, the local corporator distributed some rice, wheat and onions, but that is over now.”

Surekha adds, “Our five-year-old, son, Ajay, who travelled with us here, misses his sisters terribly. At least if we manage to go back to our relatives, we will feel more secure. We don’t know how long this will last, our daughters are alone there.”

On the pavement in Kandivali, where Shinde’s relatives live, are 30 other families, all of whom are daily wagers from Amravati and Akola districts. A few NGOs distribute food among these pavement dwellers. The families have dug holes in the ground for water as other sources have dried up since the lockdown begun.

The Shindes call their daughters twice a day. “Aanchal asks me when I will return, while Khushali tells me I should walk it if the trains don’t restart. I have no option but to give them false hope that I would come the next day,” says Surekha.

Shekhar, meanwhile, says the contractor has still not paid them and has stopped taking their calls. “The room rent is Rs 1,700, how will we pay?” he asks.

At Kandivali, seated on a torn sofa on the pavement, the two girls put a mask on being told to do so. While Aanchal gives a dry smile on being promised a bar of chocolate, her sister, Khushali, repeatedly asks, “Can you somehow bring my parents back?”