The incident I am about to narrate took place thirty years ago, but the details are indelibly etched in my memory. It was nearing sunset when she parked her scooter and looked around hesitatingly. She saw me seated at the steps of the temple; bowl in hand. I shudder to think what impression my tattered clothes and sunburnt features made on her.

She, on her part, was neatly dressed in the then newly-in-fashion western clothes - bell-bottom trousers, checked shirt and scarf. She could have been just about any decent college-going girl.

These days, girls wear very 'unsafe' clothes. You see that bearded old rickshaw-puller lying dead-drunk on the pavement. At the end of day, after he has spent half of his day's earnings on country liquor, it would seem he would not have the strength to stand up on his legs; but you cannot imagine what he did last night. People like him make my blood boil. There was a girl, young enough to be his granddaughter, standing alone on the other side of the road. Some would say that it was probably not right for her to be standing alone in those body-hugging clothes; but truth be told, it was not very late either. It was only eight 'o' clock; but you know how desolate the roads become at that hour. She was probably here for the first time. How could she know? Why blame it on her clothes either? How scary it must have been for her, to be suddenly molested like that? If only I had a strong pair of legs like you have, I would have taught that drunkard a lesson or two. But then, you know how the saying goes - "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride". Let's get back to our story.

The girl seemed undecided at first, but then a flash of determination crossed her eyes and she walked up to me.

"Can you understand me?", she asked.

"Yes"

"All right. I need to ask you something."

This was the first time someone actually spoke to me. I hung on to every word that her sweet voice carried to my ears.

"How long have you been here?"

"As long as I can remember."

"All right. I need your help."

She pulled out a five-rupee note, but did not give it to me right away. My eyes lit up. In those times, it was more than what I usually earned in an entire day.

"Were you here during the earthquake?"

"What earthquake?"

"The earthquake that took place thirteen years ago."

"Yes, yes. I was here", I nodded and reached out for the five-rupee note. She let me have it.

Those were the days of one-paise coins, and five rupees was a huge amount. Giving huge amounts of money to beggars is never a good idea. A few months ago a fat 'foreigner lady' gave a little boy a ten-rupee note on her way to the temple. When this fat lady walked out of the temple, she was mobbed by soliciting beggars from all sides. She nearly fainted out of panic. Heed my word, whenever you feel overly generous, give money to a beggar only on your way out and then move away quickly. But again, I digress.

OK... So she let me have the five-rupee note and continued to shoot questions at me.

"Do you remember what happened that day?"

"What exactly are you looking for?" I shot back.

"I am looking for information... Information on a man who died here that day. I need to know how he died."

She pulled out an old faded photograph of a well-dressed man in his mid thirties.

"His car was found here, under a rubble of bricks. His body was lost amongst the scores of other people who lost their lives that day. But I am here to find out what brought him here and what happened to him?"

"Why do you want to dig up old skeletons?"

"That's none of your business", she retorted angrily and I could see her eyes moisten with tears.

"He was my father... Last night, my mother died of cancer...She died painfully after eleven months of continual torment. It was her last wish..."

She turned away from me, suppressing her sobs silently.

It was dark now and very quiet as well. It all made sense now. Her initial hesitation, her quiet determination, her need to know the truth about her father... Everything made sense now.

"Come here in the morning. We will start our search tomorrow."

To be concluded in part 2.