Off-Duty

The dinner party was over and I was more than happy to clean up. I had strict instructions regarding the correct way of loading the dishwasher, the exact amount of food to throw into the disposer at once, and I also had very vivid descriptions of the fate that awaited me had I ruined any of our wedding china. I finished up, with Mary frequently calling out random advice, and finally went over to the open window.

It was a clear night, a pleasant breeze blowing through the quiet by-lanes. I took a deep breath and smelled the roses in our garden outside. Oh, how I missed it. This. The peace and quiet. The smells and the view. A cigarette glowed red between my fingers, smoke rings slowly wafted out of the window. A neighbour out for a jog passed in front of the house, waving to me as he did. Yet another smiled as he drove by. I waved back and turned away, threw the stub into the dustbin and settled down on the sofa with a magazine.

“Are you done?”

I looked up to see Mary at the doorway.

“Just like you said,” I smiled. She ducked into the kitchen.

She was going to cross-check everything anyway. I chuckled.

“It smells like smoke in here.”

 I bit my tongue. Damn!

“Honey, it was the only one I had all day.”

“Kevin, you promised.” Mary reappeared carrying a glass of water. She didn’t seem angry. I let out a sigh of relief, I wasn’t in trouble. Mary laughed.

“Hon, I really appreciate you trying to quit...”

BOOM!!

“...What the hell...?”

It was an IED. Our humvee had passed right over it. The car overturned.

“Kevin...!!”

What ...? where... I looked around. I must have blacked out on impact.

“Kevin?!”

“Yeah?!! Ryan?? Peters?”

“Kevin, Rogers’ tyre just blew, right in front of our gate. Mind going out and giving him a hand?”

My ears were ringing. I had to help him... yes, I did. But where was he? My mind worked sluggishly. “Calm down,” I told myself, “and think. Start moving!”

I pushed myself off the ground and felt a searing pain in my side. I checked quickly. There was blood, probably shrapnels, but I could still move.

“What are you looking for? Your toolbox is in the garage...”

I looked around. Our guide lay a few feet before me, only half his body intact. His face was turned towards me and eyes, wide open. I forced myself to look away, quickly crawled behind the vehicle and grabbed an automatic.

“Kevin? It’s okay if you don’t want to go...  Honey?”

“Peters?” No answer. Bullets were flying from every direction. I set up my rifle and fired at the hostiles.

“Kevin? Honey? Whoa... wait, what are you doing?”

“Ryan? Are you hurt?”

“I can’t feel my legs. Peters is gone.”

I sprayed some more bullets into the fray. A grenade went off about a hundred metres ahead.

“Ryan???I’m coming for you...”

“They must have heard the blast... They’ll come. You get to the trees.”

“But Ryan..!”

“Kevin, it was just a tyre..! You don’t have to...”

“I have Andrews with me. We are covered. Go.”

“Kevin! Look at me...wait, I’ll call Dr. Keller...”

I sat up, and wheeled around.

“I’ll cover you Kevin. Go go go!”

I rushed forward, firing continuously. A bullet grazed my arm. I ran through a line of trees and ducked behind a thick tree trunk. I aimed at the hostiles and fired a round.

“Ryan?”

“Kevin, I’m here, look at me! You’re home, you’re safe!... Hello? Dr. Keller? I’m...”

“Ryan!?”

“Kevin! Behind you!”

I wheeled around. The man was almost on me. He shot at me, I jumped aside and knocked the gun from his hand. I ducked and kicked his legs away from under him. He fell down, clearly not very experienced. Here was my advantage.

I quickly twisted his arm around and caught him in a headlock. He struggled furiously. He rammed his elbow into my ribs. The hit was surprisingly soft, didn’t hurt at all. He was weak.

“Honey please... please... listen to me...”

Something fell from his grip, bounced off my shoe and onto the floor. A phone.

A phone?

“Honey! Please Kev...Help... Help”

“Not so brave now, are you? Planting bombs on the road is so much easier, eh?” I breathed venomously. I increased the pressure on his windpipe crushing it.

She gasped and tried to scratch my face. She...? But...

I let go of his dead weight.

She fell down in a heap.

I felt the cold creeping through my spine. I looked around... Where was the back up? No one was coming.

“Ryan?” I called out, shakily. But he was gone too. I felt sweat running down my face.

 I spun around... No humvee, just our coffee table...in our living room.

But... the man I just...

I looked at the floor.

Mary lay sprawled at my feet.

Honour

“I found you.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

He turned his eyes away, but didn’t move from his place.

“Don’t say that! I wanted to see you,” I pled, trying to catch his eye.

“Why?”

“Because... just because,” I sighed. There was nothing more I could say.

“I get it. You wanted to see if I was dead or alive. Well, I am alive. Happy? Now leave.” He started to get up from the table when I clamped down on his hand and held it there.

“Stop, alright? You forget; I helped you. I was the one who saved...” I checked myself. I suddenly became aware of the pressure I was putting on his wrist. It must hurt. I withdrew my hand.

“Sorry...” I mumbled as Rudhir rubbed his wrist.

“No,” he replied, his mouth taut, “I’m sorry... I was... forget it. So, how are you?”

He asked as if he didn’t care about the answer. Maybe he didn’t. He actually didn’t.

“You’ve grown so thin... you are just skin and bones... are you not eating properly? Your eyes... when was the last time you slept?”

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I’m fine, father. I had exams and... Aashu doesn’t sleep easily.”

“He is restless,” I observed.

Rudhir nodded, staring at the table.

But his eyes softened when Aashu wrapped his tiny fingers around his. He peered through his glasses lovingly and smiled when the child pulled at his tie. He twirled the metal batch on his chest. It was shiny and the child cackled with amusement. It was music to my ears.

He likes shiny things. Much like Rudhir when he was Aashu’s age.

 I just sat there, watching them. I was ... enchanted.

“He has grown so big,” I exclaimed quietly, “He is beautiful!”

Rudhir nodded, “Yes he is. He looks like her.”

I sat up straight, and ran my fingers over my mouth.

“He misses her,” he continued, “we both do.”

I felt my stomach lurch. I didn’t reply.

“How is mother?”

“She misses you.”

“Good.”

I watched the child... my grandson... play with the tie for a while.

“Where does Aashu stay when you are in class?”

“They have a crèche here. It’s for staff but they made an exception for me.”

I nodded and watched my grandson, who now sat on his father’s lap tracing a tattoo on his forearm. Aashu’s father. I barely recognise him as my son anymore.

“Son, you are too young to be doing this alone. It’s been two years! You have been attending classes, working part-time and raising your son. Let us help you! You don’t have to do this alone. You are almost a child yourself for God sake!”

“No. I will raise him alone. And you have helped enough. I don’t need anymore,” Rudhir replied quickly, wrapping his son in his arms, as if afraid I would take him away.

I sighed and got up.

“I know you still blame me, son. But there was nothing I could do. She was too young. You both were...”

The baby had been born. It was boy.I had a grandson. The other doctors and nurses had left. It was just me now. The girl was critical but stable. I stood staring at her for a long time. So young. Very pretty. No wonder my son loved her. But they were young and stupid. What did they know of life? Had they known the way the world works, they would have known this would never be. Rudhir was only 20. Too young to know right from wrong.

Rudhir kissed the child and held him closer, tears silently rolling down his cheeks.

“... Giving birth at only 17 is risky for the mother. Her body was too weak to survive it. I did everything in my power to save her.”

He nodded. Aashu looked up at his father and touched his tear-streaked cheek with his tiny hand. Rudhir quickly checked himself, wiped his face and smiled at his child. The child giggled back, his attention now taken by Rudhir’s shiny glasses.

We were Rajputs. I had to protect our honour. Had she been of higher birth... even slightly respectable... maybe if she wasn’t an orphan...?

 With steady hands, I picked up the empty syringe and injected air bubbles into her IV channel. In her weakened state, an air embolus would be enough.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You are a good father,” I observed, my voice heavy. Rudhir tickled Aashu. The child giggled hysterically, the tears sliding down his father’s cheek forgotten.

“You will always do what’s best for him,” I said.

That’s what fathers do. That’s what I did.

“I hope Aashu thinks so too,” Rudhir replied, quietly.

I started walking away.

“Thank you”.

I turned. “For what?”

“For saving my son,” Rudhir said.

I smiled, waved a small goodbye and resumed walking. I felt my sight blur with tears.

My heart jumped with a start. She was awake and staring back at me. There were tears streaming from her eyes.

“I have to protect him. Our family. You have to understand. I wish it didn’t have to be like this... I’m sorry,” I whispered, pleading.

“Please don’t kill my child,” she whispered back, closing her eyes.
  She never opened them again.

Yes, I killed her ...

Yes, I killed her and I don’t have any regrets. She was in pain and she asked me to. She said I was being kind. I was. I ended her pain because no one else would.

Yes, I killed her. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but she cried anyway. When I closed her eyes and wiped away her tears, she looked peaceful.

Yes, I killed her. She just wouldn’t try to understand me. I wanted her to believe me. I tried, I really did.

Yes, I killed her. She wouldn’t even listen as I pleaded. I didn’t want to force my will but she left me no choice. How could I let her walk away from me? I knew she didn’t want it either.

Yes, I killed her. I had warned her of the consequences. She said she’d take her chance. That chance didn’t turn out so well. She was back by my side by nightfall.

Yes, I killed her. I loved her. She slapped me and drew blood. She was feisty like that; liked it rough. Her eyes remained open through it all.

Yes, I killed her. She refused to believe me. She pretended like she wasn’t happy to see me. She had to, she was being watched. I could see the terror in her eyes. I had to free her.

Yes, I killed her. I still remember how her eyes grew wide every time she saw me. I never understood why she would deny our love. I asked her. She didn’t answer.

Yes, I killed her. She was very still. When I asked if this was truly what she wanted, she cried. She wanted relief from the pain and begged me to deliver   her. In the end, she thanked me.

Yes, I killed her. What else could I do? She was a witness.

Rashid’s stomach lurched. His spine gave an involuntary shudder. His jaws were set tightly, partly to keep the nausea away. The metal tabletop felt ice-cold under his fingers. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. The tiny room seemed to be closing around him. He looked at the man sitting across from him, both hands chained to a little hoop at the centre of the table. The man looked back at him with a steady gaze, without the slightest bit of emotion and waited. Rashid flexed his fingers, trying to prevent them from going numb. Then he reached back into the envelope and pulled out a picture of a woman. The man took one look at the photo and nodded.

Yes, I killed her...

Rashid sighed, his breath trembling under the cold, emotionless gaze.

He had forty more photos to go.

Yes, I killed her...

She

She walks down the corridor, one hand clutching the strap of her bag slung across her shoulder. She walks with confident steps, facing straight ahead but quickly scanning the crowd, although absent-mindedly. Laughter reaches her ears, she slants a glance towards the source and sees two of her classmates laughing, sharing a joke. She catches one of them staring at her.

Maybe they are discussing her, laughing at her.

She recoils within herself. Maybe it’s the weight she put on recently, or the dress that she’s wearing. Or maybe it’s something she did earlier which is being shared; she continues walking like nothing happened as possibilities flit through her mind.

Maybe it has nothing to do with her. After all, why would they be discussing her? They hardly ever noticed her.

She relaxes, but can’t resist pulling her hand through her hair and smoothening out her dress once, making sure nothing is amiss. She judges that she looks fine by the eyes that surround her. She waves and smiles at the people she knows. Most of them reciprocate, like it’s a reflex; some of them in their hurry to get somewhere, miss her. She doesn’t mind. After all, she is only the most ordinary girl that no one would notice. She exits the corridor, still unnoticed.

The teacher announces a project, divides the class in groups to stage a play. She looks around to find herself in a group of twelve. Some of them are good students, who start throwing around ideas, getting ready to work. Some of them, hardly interested, sit around with bored expressions. She keeps quiet; trying to figure out what to say, what would be accepted. She doesn’t want to stay something that would get brushed away, so ends up quietly listening.

The next day, decisions are to be made. She looks around to see that ideas are already clashing and egos working up. She keeps quiet for sometime before she finally speaks. At first no one even hears the words coming out of her mouth. When they do, they look at her with surprise, not accustomed to having her speak. She recoils, again, fearful of being slighted. When the group waits for her to speak, she gathers her courage and does so. She traces out her idea, carefully designed to incorporate the best of all the ideas thought out aloud the day before. She does it carefully making sure she doesn’t upset anyone along the way. Her group likes the idea and breaks into conversation with new energy, ready to work. One of them gives her a pat on the back, announces her name as the leader. She eyes the girl in amazement even as she basks in the glory. Days go by; the group works in close proximity. She works hard making sure everyone was doing well, pulling their weight, solving problems, always more than ready to adjust around the others. Her unwillingness to upset others gets appreciated as leadership skill and tact. She is more than happy to let them think so.

The final presentation comes. The play is huge success. The teachers love the performance; say it is commendable for a bunch of high school students to be able to think this maturely. The principal herself is impressed, says a few kind and encouraging words to them. She smiles all the way. Her group pats her, shouts cheers and congratulations to each other. It’s a happy day for her, a very special day. Any other day she would be sitting in her corner, clapping for someone else; and much like her, the ordinary gesture would also go unnoticed.

One of the girls shakes her hand and says, “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Of course, you didn’t. No one ever does!

But she doesn’t say it aloud. She smiles graciously and shakes her hand.

Next day, their class teacher calls the group forward, intending for the class to give them three cheers. She is sitting at the back, her friends busy talking about their recent shopping exploits. She is bored so she just listens. When the teacher’s voice reaches her ears she stands up. Her friend just moves the chair, without looking at her. She tries to go out into the isle but finds her path obstructed by bags. The rest of her group is already standing at the head of the classroom, the clapping starts. Her friend can’t hear her voice as she asks her to remove the bag. By the time she stumbles to the front the sound of clapping is already subsiding. Her group pulls her to their side. Smiling happily she joins them. 

One of them clutches her arm and whispers, “Where were you?”

She smiles, “Right there, you probably didn’t notice.”

Going Away

Inspired by Sylvia Plath's 'Mad Girl's Love Song' ...

I fancied you'd return the way you said,

But I grow old and I forget your name.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

For the fifth and final time, she turned to look at him. He still hadn’t moved. In spite of herself, she felt a lump in her throat; the corners of her lips trembled threatening to curl into a downward arc, her eyes trying clear themselves from the watery veil. He didn’t even so much as acknowledge her lingering presence. As far as he was concerned, he had fulfilled his obligation by waving her a cordial goodbye and wishing her a happy journey. He had buried himself in work, his flawless pearly forehead under his forever clumsy hair visible over the laptop he intently peered into. As he moved his head while typing, his youthful brown eyes became visible. She stared at him longingly, as if willing him into seeing her, but his eyes continued to be focussed on the screen of his computer.

 His eyes. That’s where her fascination had started. His dark eyes which revealed themselves to be a deep brown when light fell across them. There was something so gentle and soft about them, like they warmed her leaving a trace on her body wherever the eyes went. She could feel her cheeks flush, a soft, shy smile light up on her lips when they did so. After determining that her shirt was proper, her bracelets sitting pretty at her wrist and her hair falling over her shoulders in just the right manner, she waved him a ‘hello’. He always waved back with a smile, his eyes bright and warm, welcoming her presence around him. When he flashed a smile, she felt her heart skip several beats together. His smile was so easy going, relaxed, effortlessly charming. She would often smile to herself and gloat silently, he was always so glad to see her.

She bowed her head and walked over to the water cooler. She felt betrayed by his indifference. How could he do that to her? she thought as she absent mindedly clutched a glass of water. She watched as a few co-workers walked by. Some smiled at her, two stopped in front of her and shook her hand one last time. They wished her farewell and a happy life ahead. She thanked all and cordially responded to the wishes. Seizing an opportunity she even let out a small laugh, hoping it would reach his ears and he'd look up to meet her eyes, but nothing happened.

She felt miserable. Here she was, leaving this office, going away forever and he couldn't even care to walk her out. How people change! she wondered. It only seemed like yesterday that they were together; chatting, laughing, the promises he made... no, there had been no promises. She resented that. She didn’t have any promise that she could hold him to. How could they have spent all this time without getting ahead in the relationship?? All those days, the words exchanged over coffee... no, cold drink... and that was only once.

 From where she stood, she had a clear view of the break room. She sadly smiled to herself. What a day it had been. They had had a successful meeting, closed a good deal; six of them sat around the table in the break room, relieved, waiting for their pizza. They had one big bottle of coke which everyone passed around. She still remembered the warm smile he gave her when she passed him the bottle. His eyebrows raised in a comic fashion as he said something funny. He had taken the bottle from her, taken a sip and passed it on. Few minutes later when she found herself searching for the bottle for another drink, he had been to one to reach for the bottle and give it to her. She still savored the moment when their fingers brushed together. She bet that there was a playful naughtiness in his eyes. And she responded by blushing.

How Neha had made fun of his hair that day! He had an adorable habit of running his fingers casually through his hair in a half hearted attempt to keep it tidy, but the result achieved was quite the opposite. In fact the untidy look suited him. It gave him a boyish charm that made her heart melt every time she looked at him. She didn’t like it at all when he entered the office with his hair all combed back neatly. It looked like it was an attempt to look mature and his immaturity shone through in that very attempt. She felt like ruffling his hair and making it all perfect again. She knew he would only laugh, maybe crack a few jokes about it. But she had never dared.

She looked around the office again, this time taking in the rest of the people as well. She set down the glass in her hand, waved at the nearest two co-workers. They both wished her a happy journey. She then turned around and walked out of the office.

He still hadn't looked up.

Redemption

The lane was empty, barring a few cars parked here and there. I was in no particular hurry so I walked absent-mindedly humming to myself. My ears picked up some voices up ahead but my mind, which was too busy remembering the tune, didn’t register anything. I turned the corner and stopped abruptly. About ten steps ahead, two boys were arguing angrily with a third.

They both were well built, should have been around 21-23 yrs old. One of them was wearing a silver chain with dog tags, the kind that youngsters wear for fashion these days. The other one had red highlights in his hair. I shook my head in disapproval. The third boy was younger than the other two, and also leaner. He was wearing a black jacket and seemed to refusing to give up whatever he had in his pocket. From the words exchanged I could tell they were no strangers and that there was no love lost between them.

The argument in front of me was getting pretty intense. They were occasionally shoving the third boy roughly but the boy was in no mood to give in either. He was lashing out at every chance he got. As for me, I just watched. I didn’t want to get in the middle of any fight. But I couldn’t pass either. Not because I was worried, but because they were struggling against my car.

 I waited for them to move away but they paid no heed. I could see that the boy was starting to lose the fight. He was getting tired. But he still didn’t quit. I had to admire his spirit. I pulled out my phone, intending to call the police. That kid was fighting hard to save himself and I felt I owed him that much. Just as the dial tone filled my ear, my eyes landed on an object the guy with red highlights had pulled out. A gun. I dropped the phone in shock and backed up instinctively. I watched the one with the dog tags land some final punches on the boy as the other one prepared to shoot him.

“I have to help him” I thought.

“No, you have to save yourself”, a voice inside me hissed. I stood rooted to the spot.

The kid had almost given up. Almost. He knew he had lost his struggle to stay alive but his right hand was still firmly placed over his jacket pocket.

 With a look of resignation he looked around one last time. That’s when his eyes met mine. I could see him pleading, teary eyed, clinging on to the last hope that I would step in and save him.

“I can’t let him die, I have to do something!” I took a step forward.

“What are you doing?! You’ll get killed. Just get out of here!!” a selfish voice in my head shouted.

“Go” a third voice firmly said in my ear.

Startled, I turn around. A familiar man stood right beside me. I never heard him coming but here he was, ordering me. For a moment I forgot about the fight. All I could think was, “who is this guy? He looks extremely familiar!” But then he spoke again.

“Help him” he said, shoving me. I stumbled forward initially from the impact but then found myself taking a few steps on my own.

I reached the group. The guy wearing dog tags tried to punch me but I dodged his fist. I tackled the second guy, the one with the gun. He was so focused on the kid cowering at his feet that he didn’t see me coming. Slightly taken aback, he lost his footing and stumbled. Seizing this opportunity the kid jumped up and punched the guy I dodged squarely in the jaw. I smirked, “Given a fair chance, the kid sure can fight” I thought. The smirk lasted for two seconds before the ‘highlights guy’ started fighting me.

As soon as that moment of surprise had passed, I knew I was in over my head. The guy was too strong. I struggled for a minute but stopped when I heard a gunshot. The guy looked at me, back to his partner. They both looked slightly scared. Then he quickly got up and they both fled leaving me and the kid panting on the pavement.

I looked around to see if the kid was alright. I was expecting a heartfelt ‘thank you’ when I realized I couldn’t move. The bullet had found my abdomen. The kid was looking at me in absolute horror and guilt. “Oh my God” he kept muttering under his breath.

“Get help” I whispered. The kid nodded and ran towards the phone which I had dropped earlier on.

That’s when I saw that man, standing there. He had literally pushed me into this, and now he wanted to just stand there and watch! And worse, he looked sad, yet content. He came and kneeled beside me. I was wondering why the kid didn’t seem to notice him. I was angry, disgusted and terrified.

“Why did- “I muttered, my words blurring.

“I saved you from a life of regret. Now you will never know the guilt of letting someone die. You will never face the humiliation of not saving an innocent kid from a certain and horrible death. Trust me, I did you a favor”. The man smiled.

The familiarity of his face still confused me but I had more immediate things I had to say to him.

“You altruistic bastard! You let ME die!! What about that?? Huh??” I wanted to yell but I could only whisper it out. My vision was darkening around the edges. I just stared at him with what I hoped was a disgusted expression, even through the pain. For the first time, my mind zeroed in on the familiarity. I couldn’t believe my eyes!

 He was… How could it be?? This was impossible! I knew him! I saw him everyday! He was the man in the mirror.

“You… how is- “I gasped, forming words was getting very difficult.

This had to be a joke! I was shot, probably dying and the man sitting beside me with a pathetic ‘it’s for the greater good’ smile was… well… ME!

He saw my confusion and shrugged, “Years back, I let this kid die. I still remember the face of his mother when she asked me why I didn’t save him. I have asked my self the same thing ever since.”

“So you decide to kill me?” I think.

“You won’t understand, just like I didn’t back then. Its only when you have lived these years as I have, in overwhelming guilt, do you realize its not worth it.” he explained. His form was getting hazier, like he was vanishing. But then I didn’t know for sure because my own dimming vision wasn’t very reliable.

“I got one chance to do what I should have done back then. To redeem myself. I did” he said, his form almost translucent now.

My vision blurred completely, everything became dark. In the background I could hear the kid calling out to someone. Maybe the police have arrived; or the ambulance. I could hear sirens coming from somewhere. I felt the kid come up beside me and shake me.

“Wake up!” he called.

 But the voice and the touch felt distant, and I was too far gone to care.

Beyond the State Lines

Reena tossed and turned in her cot. She turned the coarse bundle of clothes she was using as pillow over and over again desperately trying to find a dry spot to hide her face in. She froze at the slight movement at the cot next to her. But the person did not wake up; just turned over and everything was still again. Letting out a long breath, Reena buried her face in her pillow and wept.

3 years ago

“You take care of yourself… (sniff sniff) … God knows how you will manage … eat properly… watch your health, try to get good sleep when you are not on duty…” aunt chanted continuously, all the time weeping. Reena’s cousin Rabi was going away to Kolkata. He had enlisted in the Special Forces and had received his first posting. The entire family was elated. Rabi was not only one of the very few educated boys of this remote village, but also one of the only three to get an actual job.

This tiny village, situated in a heavily forested area near the state border, rarely saw such achievements. Their lives usually consisted of farming on small plots of land and rearing cattle. Some of them who worked outside their village were daily laborers. Very few could boast of a half decent education and even less could dream of having a job and a fixed salary. Thus, Rabi’s going away party included more or less the whole village. They all wished him luck, blessed him, praised him and gave him charms to keep him safe while his mother fretted about the constant dangers of his duty.

“Don’t worry maa, I’ll be alright”, Rabi smiled, assuring his mother.

“Yes pishima, he’ll do well”, said Reena, “Rabi da is very smart, and you know that!”

Rabi turned to Reena. “You take care of yourself and everyone here. Ok?”

“Of course”, she hugged him, “be careful.”

1 year ago

The only school in their village had long closed down. Now it served as the arms vault for the rebels. Almost every able bodied man and woman had been enlisted to this rebel army. It was the villagers’ job to provide for these people. Thus Reena’s father, who was farmer, had been spared from enlisting. 17 yr old Reena did not understand much of what they said or preached. Something about the government not being fair, something about wanting their rights, formed the core of their ideology; not that they cared much for it. As long as the people were terrified of them and the government took them seriously, they were happy. Initially, when the rebellion started, the villagers had supported them. They all had genuine grievances which needed to be heard. But as time went on, more and more places came to be affected. Power in the hands of the rebels increased, more villages came under their control, more people joined and subsequently the body count rose.

 The rebels lost sight of the original aim and took to the more enticing ideas of power and manipulation. Reena knew that it was only a matter of time before she would be forced to join them. Her father had already turned them away twice saying he needed her help in the fields but that excuse would not hold every time. She didn’t know exactly what was waiting for her but she was terrified of it. The fear of the unknown is always the worst. But Reena was sure that knowing would hardly be any better.

3 months ago

Reena arrived at the rebel camp. It was in the middle of a forest, about half an hour trek from their village. The man who escorted her showed her to a tent.

“You’ll stay here… this is where we sleep…” he beckoned her to follow him. He proceeded to show her around the camp and explain the rules. Finally they reached a clearing where the new recruits were being trained. He handed her a rifle and ordered her to join the parade. When training for the morning was over, Reena followed them back to the tents for a frugal lunch.

“What is your name?” Reena asked a woman sitting beside her.

“Jaya”

“How long have you been here??”

“Five years…” The woman didn’t seem interested in this new recruit but Reena, who could hardly contain the terror in her heart, went on.

“How long do we have to live like this?”

“As long as it takes. This is our life.” Jaya replied. Reena examined her face. She was dark, her face expressionless, hardened in a way that emotions no longer found a place on it. Her eyes were casual, indifferent. A thin jagged scar ran from her hairline, over her eyebrows and ended just above her right eye.

 “Where did you get that scar?”

“About a couple of years back. We were fighting the joint forces, few villages away from here. I lost my footing and fell onto some rocks. The cadres brought me back to the camp and stitched up my forehead. But the scar remained.” Jaya shrugged.

Her indifference sent chills down Reena’s spine.

“What will happen to me?” Reena asked, not even attempting to hide her fear this time.

Jaya looked at her and said, “We’ll train you to fight. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to all this.”

12 hours ago

Reena hid behind a tree trunk. She cringed as gunfire erupted a few feet away from her. The first shots were fired from the other side of the tree line, which was followed by a few more shots from her side. Jaya was shooting from behind a big boulder.

“Move forward to the next point and cover for me” she yelled. Reena remained rooted to her spot. This was her first encounter with the law enforcers. The rebels had planned a ‘guerilla attack’ on an army camp but had not counted on the back up. There were more Jawans than they had estimated and now they were fighting back. The group had fled to the forest but Jaya and Reena were way behind the others and still needed to go over the stream to the safety of the dense forest cover, which they know like the back of their hand by now.

“Move!” Jaya screamed again.

Reena hastily lifted her rifle and started firing. She quickly ran from her hiding place to the next point. She could hear Jaya running behind her. She found a guarded spot behind a banyan tree near the stream. Jaya also came to a stop behind her. They both were panting. Reena was terrified. She couldn’t believe that she was actually firing at people, trying to kill them. She was covered in sweat, her hands, cold. She could literally hear her heartbeat. Jaya, on the other hand, was counting the cartridges.

“Five… six… here…” she put a few cartridges in Reena’s hand, “I have a few more, just in case.”

Reena’s hand shook but the little training she received made her pocket the cartridges safely.

“On my count start firing and follow me towards the stream. You did good so far, don’t freeze now.” Reena nodded, desperate to get back to camp.

“One… two… three” Jaya started running, dodging branches swiftly.

Reena emerged from behind the tree, about run after her when she saw someone come out from the thicket to her left. She turned quickly and lifted her rifle but her palms were too clammy and the hand supporting the weapon, slipped.

Cold fear gripped her. In a moment she felt nauseous, terrified and angry for having lost grip as she fumbled with the weapon. The entire thing lasted only a couple of seconds but Reena knew very well that bullets only take as much time to kill.

She repositioned her hand and looked up. The man in front of her was in a uniform, a cap covering his head, his gun raised, but he didn’t fire.

“Why didn’t he fire?” Reena wondered, “He could have easily taken me down…”

“Reena?”

She froze. The man lowered his weapon. Reena’s own grip was failing again but this time she didn’t care.

“Rabi da…”

Rabi took a step towards her.

“What are yo… just…” he extended his hand, “come with me…”

 Reena stood there unable to believe her eyes. She supported herself on the rifle and took a step forward.

BANG! BANG!

Rabi’s hand was still out stretched. But he looked like someone had shoved him. He took a step back as if reacting to an invisible force. A dark red spot erupted in his chest and another followed. He froze for a bit and then fell down, dead.

“Dada!!” Reena screamed and started to run towards the fallen man but a strong grip on her shoulder stopped her.

“Come fast!” Jaya yelled, forcefully pulling her away.

“Noo let me go...” Reena cried, thrashing about, trying to break free but the grip was unrelenting.

Jaya forcibly stuffed a piece of cloth in Reena’s mouth, covered it with her hand and dragged her towards the stream. Within seconds, Reena felt water up to her knees and rising. Jaya still had that death grip on her shoulder and was pulling her. Reena looked around wildly, trying to get away when she caught sight of Rabi. He lay there on his stomach, lips slightly parted, eyes wide open. She felt tears running down her cheeks. She was waist deep in water and with every step she took, the leaves and branches around the clearing obscured her view. She didn’t want to move but she was forced to trudge.

Finally, the grip on her shoulder relaxed. The water barely rose above her boots by then. They had crossed over the stream successfully.

“You can take a minute, but we can’t stay here more than that” Jaya said, trying to keep her calm.

Reena removed the cloth from her mouth. Her cries had reduced to sobs. She heard a few voices calling out to each other. She realized more men had come in to the clearing and they had found the body.

Reena was shaking like leaf from head to toe. Her beloved brother had been shot dead in front of her. Worst still, had the rifle not slipped, she would’ve pulled the trigger herself without even realizing it was Rabi. And she would have done it to survive.

From where she stood, she saw them exchange a few words and go in separate directions. Three Jawans started towards the stream.

Jaya’s body tensed beside her.

“If we don’t move now, they’ll kill us”, she whispered urgently.

She took Reena’s arm again, but lightly this time. “Let’s go!”

Reena took a deep breath, took one last look at the clearing. Then she wiped away her tears, ducked to keep out of the soldiers’ sight and began the trek back to camp.

The Best Friend

I slowly parted my eyelids but very quickly shut them back up again. Sunlight streamed into my room through the window over my head. I groaned stretching my limbs and rubbing my tired eyes with my hands. I tried opening my eyes again and managed a squint. It was probably around ten in the morning because my room was bathed in sunlight. I was terribly hung-over but I forced myself to get up, ambled over to the dresser and peered into the mirror. My face was covered in sheen of sweat and my hair stuck out at odd angles. I was wearing a crumpled stripped shirt and black pants from last night and… last night… something was off about last night… but what? I couldn’t remember. My mind began to gather up some images but I hastily shoved them aside. I didn’t want to remember. ‘But why?’ I wondered. Well, I guess, remembering made my head hurt more.

“Krishna di, can you please get me a Disprin?” I called out and went over to the bathroom to freshen up. By the time I came out, Krishna di was waiting for me. At five feet, dressed in a simple saree, the dark complexioned Krishna di was our trusted housekeeper. As long as she was around, I didn’t even feel the need to ask for anything. She knew me so well that all my needs and wants were taken care of, even before I realized. Beyond the simplicity of her being lurked an alert and sharp mind and a caring heart which I knew to be fiercely faithful towards me.

I took the pill and sat down on the edge of my bed, my fingers lightly massaging my forehead.

“Avik dada?”

“Hmm” I said, without looking up.

“Are you alright?” Krishna di asked somewhat timidly. I had never known her to be timid but my throbbing brain passed over this small detail.

“Of course I am, it’s just a headache.”

“No, I mean… Last night…”

My head shot up. A swift feeling akin to that of an electric current went through my spine. There were butterflies in my stomach.

“What about last night?” I asked. Krishna di shifted on her feet.

“You came home late and made quite a scene. You demanded your car be washed right then”, she said, studying me closely.

“I did?” I gulped in spite of myself and then let out a small laugh.

“Oh! Don’t worry; I just had a little too much to drink last night…”

Krishna di looked unconvinced but nodded anyway.

“You bumped your car somewhere.”

I felt beads of sweat making their appearance on my forehead. I casually wiped my hand over it.

“Yes… umm… while parking it.” Krishna di nodded and with a small “hmm” left the room.

She had been working at our house for 10 yrs and had been almost like my local guardian since my parents moved to Hyderabad on business 3 yrs ago. It was a good thing that she didn’t ask anything else. What would I tell her? I drank so much that last night was as good as a blank slate in my mind? Huh! Like she’d believe me.

“Dada-” The sudden noise made me jump, but it was just Krishna di again, standing in the doorway. This time, she looked serious.

‘Does she know?’ I wondered, ‘Maybe I should just ask her… she would never lie to me…’

“What happened?” I asked.

“Rakhi madam called. Said your phone was switched off.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“She said Rahul dada met with an accident yesterday.”

“What! When?” I stood up. “How is he?” My mind whirled with questions and concern.

“He’s okay now…” Krishna di replied, comforting me. “He’s at Ruby General. Rakhi madam said it will take time but he will be alright.” I nodded and grabbed my phone, gesturing Krishna di to leave.

Rahul was my best friend. My oldest and closet friend; my brother almost. The fact that his life had been in danger and I hadn’t been there to help him made me feel sick. I had never even considered that we would ever be apart. The thought that he was lying in some hospital bed, hurt, scared me to the core. Rakhi di, Rahul’s elder sister had turned to me for help but I had been unavailable. I mentally kicked myself.

Rakhi di picked up on the 3^rd ring. Her voice was a cross between anger and immense relief. “Where the hell were you????” she thundered, “do you know what happened?... Rahul was so serious! I didn’t know what to do! I kept calling you but…”

“Whoa- slow down. I’m very very sorry di. How is he?”

“He’s still unconscious but doctors say he is responding to treatment.” Her voice choked slightly.

“Good. I’ll come over right now. But how did this happen?”

“I don’t know much” she sighed. “The police said that the CCTV cameras couldn’t get a clear image. Apparently, he was crossing the road in front of Desun when an… umm… Alto it seems, hit him.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Wh… when did this happen?”

“Yesterday, around 11 pm”

I broke into cold sweat.  How could it be? Did I really …? NO!

No no no…! It could all just be a coincidence. “Did the police find the car?”

“No”, I could hear anger in her voice, “They are not even sure of the color! Imagine! They said it was either black or deep blue.”

“Hmm okay.” I disconnected the call. Her words echoed in my ears. 

“They don’t know whether it was blue or black.”

“Blue”, I thought, the sick feeling back in my stomach. The car was blue, license plate 7827. The driver was drunk out of his mind.

I felt my stomach churn and rushed to the bathroom. When I came out, I was exhausted. My head felt like it would burst. I could actually feel my chest constricting, a pain originating deep within myself.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Krishna di enter with a cup of coffee. Disregarding her presence, I went over to my bed and collapsed, weeping. She set the cup down on the dresser and hurried over to me. “Sh… whatever happened… it’ll be alright…” she whispered, rubbing comforting circles on my back.

“You don’t know what I did! I hit R…”

“No. You didn’t do anything. You got drunk and stayed at home last night.”

I fell silent at her words. I looked up at her. She was looking at me intently and meaningfully, like she didn’t want to spell out the suggestion. As if the whole suggestion scared even her, but she didn’t have a choice. I thought for a moment.

“But my car is banged up.” She cleared her throat.

“I will wash it myself… and you will tell everyone that you bumped it while parking.”

Not knowing what else to say, I nodded. Krishna di patted my head.

“Good. Now go wash your face and get dressed. You should go to the hospital. Rahul dada needs his best friend.”

road accidents, Friendship, Drunk driving

Darkness (Part 4 final)

Peter was petrified. What would happen if he comes up? He could almost taste the fear in his tongue. He strained his ears. He could hear Jean’s voice and a deep male voice conversing. The man did not seem agitated, which was a good sign. But he could sense the fear in Jean’s voice and he also knew that the fear was for him. He heard them move around a bit. Soon the formalities and customary exchanges ended. Jean made some comment about Joyce being away all the while and his remarks grew more and more curt and irritated. Peter realized from his reactions that Joyce was slightly drunk. Seconds turned into minutes as Peter waited for Jean to come up. After almost an hour he finally heard the final burst of abuse and heavy steps storming off. But thankfully Joyce didn't come up. Apparently his room was somewhere downstairs and he stayed there. Sometime later, the door of Jean’s room opened and she appeared. Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

“Tomorrow morning before Joyce wakes up, I’ll take you to the rail station. A train leaves for the city everyday and you have to be on it if you want to live”, Jean whispered in an uneven voice. Peter didn't know what to say. He was recovering well but he had not considered the possibility of going away so early. He stared at her. There were tear tracks on her cheeks. He knew that with Joyce back he couldn't risk staying with her; he also knew that he did not have the slightest intention of leaving her.

The next morning was like a blur of colors of the town and whispers passed between them. Peter and Jean stole out of the house very early. The streets were empty so they did not have any trouble on the way and reached the station even before they had anticipated. The train was waiting at the platform.

She helped him get onto the train. “Take care of yourself”, she said, her voice cracking. Peter could not bring himself to leave without her. He felt like he was leaving a part of himself with her and he was terrified that he would never get it back.

“Come with me. You don't have to stay here!” he pleaded.

“He’s my family Peter” she said.

“But he’s not worth it! He doesn't care what becomes of you and you know it!” Peter could feel a hint of anger and desperation in his voice.

“I know. But I have to believe that someday he’ll realize what he was done and that day, he'll need me to be there for him.”

Peter felt a tear slide down his cheek. Jean’s eyes were tearful but her face, resolute.

“I’ll come back for you when this is over”, he said.

Jean smiled, “I’ll wait.”

The train blew a whistle and sluggishly started moving forward. He waved at Jean,eyes fixated on her face for as long as she could be seen. She was smiling and waving back. As the train left the station, the black pillar at the perimeter hid her from view. Then Peter finally turned his head and looked ahead, to the approaching horizon. The world out there was fast moving toward him. It held an uncertain future. Peter knew that this time around, he would make it. Jean had gifted him his future and he would make sure that the future would be worthy of the two of them. He would succeed; for himself and Jean.

                                                The End