Everyone in Lalbagh Colony knew about the catastrophe that had hit the Abbas family. Just this morning the cardiologists at Leela-Davis Hospital had zeroed in on why Zara was constantly being racked by backache and chest pain, and why she panted at the slightest physical effort. The doctors had discovered an aortic aneurysm within her chest, which had to be treated quickly if they wanted to see her alive.
The news had hit Zara's twin Zaheer hard, but Diya was the one in deep shock. Not only were she and Zara close friends and in Girl Scouts together, but also because Zaheer had told her that the surgery would cost three lakhs!
Diya gazed absently out of her bedroom window. The thin crescent moon shone dimly on silent empty streets.
Only the peanut vendor and the paanwala stood beneath the gulmohar and even they were not joking tonight.
But oh! Here was that nasty lady from House #35 hurrying out through her doors. Diya watched as she crossed the lane and threw a large garbage bag into some bushes nearby. How Diya hated her! She never waited for the morning garbage truck to pick up her rubbish like everyone else. And somehow, ever since she had started her personal garbage dump, passers-by too had taken to littering their Colony streets!
Diya turned away from the window. Who had the time to worry about garbage and untidy streets with Zara battling for her life? Abbas Uncle would probably have to take a loan from a rich relative or his bank. Diya climbed into bed her mind filled with sad thoughts, when an exceptionally loud thought made her spring right out!
Diya dashed down the staircase in twos, tore into the living room, and picked her father's mobile phone off the centre table.
"Diya!" cried her father from his reclining chair. "WHAT'S all this running about the house?!"
"Please Pa, I need your cell," said Diya quickly.
Before her flabbergasted father could respond, Diya dialled number after number and began to talk rapidly into the mobile phone.
Fifteen calls later, Diya plopped down beside her father and smiled sweetly into his stern face. "Pa, please don't be angry. I've only just called my Girl Scout gang. I have a plan that will help Zara, but I will need your help as well. Please? "
The walk back home from visiting Zara was leaving Zaheer more and more confused. And the hot afternoon sun had nothing to do with it. Zaheer had seen at least fifteen girls parading different streets of Lalbagh Colony, dressed crisply in Khakhi uniforms with whistles dangling around their necks. But confusion turned to bewilderment when Zaheer saw Diya uniformed as well, talking animatedly to a slick-haired young man.
"What on earth is she up to?" thought Zaheer as he covered the short distance to Diya to watch her.
"Pay up Sir! Five hundred bucks for spitting on our Colony streets and treating the land you stand on as your personal spittoon," said Diya, tearing off a bill from her bill-book.
"You kid! You can't charge me for nothing," the young man sneered.
"Oh, but sure I can," said Diya. She thrust the bill into his hands and pointed to the stamp on the lower half of the paper:
Asha Jyoti Girl Scouts Cleanliness Campaign. Permission: Lalbagh Area Police Department.
"BAH!" cried the young man as he turned away.
But Diya was fast. She trilled sharply on her whistle. Within seconds, fifteen uniformed girls came running from every direction and grabbed the escaping man!
"Five hundred Sir, and be nice," glowered Diya. Cursing, the young man fished out five crisp hundred-rupee notes, threw them on the road and walked away.
"Asha Jyoti ROCKS!" yelled sixteen thrilled girls sending up a high five. "Can SOMEONE please tell me WHAT'S GOING ON?" yelled Zaheer.
"Zaheer!" chirped Diya. "Just in time to see us Scouts on a cleaning spree! Now girls, shall we see how much we've earned this afternoon?" said Diya turning back to her group.
The girls began to leaf through their bill-books rattling off offences and the charges they had slapped on spitting people and litterbugs. "Sixteen thousand five hundred and seventy!" they said finally.
Zaheer continued to look at Diya with deepening puzzlement.
"We're just trying to help out Abbas Uncle with Zara's surgery," said Diya. "We've been fining passers-by for everything from spitting to throwing banana peels and peanut shells! And see how much we've collected – close to Rs.16000 in just one day! What's more, our Colony has also become cleaner in the process!"
"O Diya, you've really done it today!" said Zaheer in disbelief.
Diya laughed. "Not without this Asha Jyoti gang though and, of course, dad. With him as Inspector, we were able to get ourselves authorized to flag off this campaign. He was up all night making calls and stamping these bill-books!"
Zaheer shook his head with mixed happiness. There were no words to describe the gratitude he felt. Thanks to Diya, he could now picture Zara again, healthy and bright walking by his side.
