Devigrah is a small but populous village. We arrive in its fold mid-morning and Mahesh sets off making queries in the central market area about the name and address given to me by Kirti. After a good half hour we leave the car on the main street to enter by-lanes of closely packed huts. Some are brick and mortar, some mud with thatched roofs but almost all in dire need of an upgrade.
Curious eyes are immediately upon us. We definitely look out of place here in our jeans and hoody jackets. Ajaz actually looks like a Greek God out on a casual stroll. His hair with its golden streaks has begun curling at his nape, his beard is lusher than before, his whiskey eyes seem more molten and his cheeks red with the constant caress of the chilly mountain air. Walking next to him can be intimidating. I’m petite, slim and although have fairly attractive features, I’m duskier, a feature most Asians don’t find appealing.
Mahesh has gone on ahead and returns looking almost forlorn. “The address is for a shop. It’s closed now but there was a boy who said the owner lives down the hill overlooking the valley. It’s around twenty minutes by foot.
Ajaz looks at me for a decision and I obviously nod. We’ve come on a mission and if it’s a tad discomforting then so be it. After all how bad can a twenty minute walk be?
Forty minutes later we are completely lost. There is no house in sight overlooking the valley and we’re stuck on a one foot pathway that meanders forever. I can tell Ajaz is annoyed. I’m tired, I’m thirsty and I’ve finally come to the conclusion that this was a really bad idea.
We manage to make it back to the village. It’s late noon by now and there aren’t many people around. At one point I feel the weight of my sling bag biting its strap into my shoulder. I groan loudly. Why hadn’t I thought of handing it over to Ajaz earlier?
Just as I remove it from around my neck, I feel a strong tug. A teenage boy has locked his fingers over the strap and before I can react, he snatches the bag from my hand.
“Hey!” I shout belatedly, causing Ajaz to realise what has happened and take off after him. “Ajaz!”
“Stay with Mahesh, baby,” he warns, before disappearing into one of the tiny lanes.
Panic grips me. The boy was skinny and malnourished, he wouldn’t stand a chance against Ajaz if caught. But what if he had a weapon or friends who could overpower Ajaz? I want to help. I want to do something.
Mahesh can sense the panic in me and before I can react, he grips my elbow and steers me out towards the market area where our car awaits us. “You wait in the car, madam, I’ll go after sir.”
He all but bundles me in the car. Some other day, I would’ve found his concern endearing but right now I can only think of Ajaz. The driver of the car is in front and I’m at the back. I scramble to one window, desperately trying to spot Ajaz. Be safe, my love, be safe.
He’s safe, a voice whispers near my ear, but are you?
I spin around to locate the source but I see no one. My heart that has slammed against the ribcage, starts beating a crazy tempo ruled by dread. I don’t want another vision here in the middle of nowhere!
The driver chooses that moment to step out of the car and my world dissolves into nothingness.
There are black swirls all around me, lifting me, leading me deeper into a black night. Terror grips me. This is not like the last realm I had visited. This is almost menacing. I watch in horror as a landscape representing death, despair and decay appears below me. A river of blood meanders through its expanse licking hungrily at the banks.
I come to a stop abruptly, floating suspended against nothingness.
“Are you afraid?” A raspy voice drowns the realm with its obvious question. I swirl around to see the source but my eyes see nothing. Something brushes against me, startling a screech out of me. I still see nothing.
“Accept your destiny and live an immortal life.” The raspy voice booms again. I shriek in fear as the sensation of being smothered by millions of invisible, slimy creatures overwhelms me. They seem to be all around me, crawling over my skin, seeping into my hair. Tiny teeth sink into my skin drawing blood from each pore. The pain is never ending, the intensity ferocious and all consuming.
“Noooooooo!” I scream in horror, feeling my eyes being forced out of their sockets even as I’m tugged and pulled from every corner of my being.
Then out of the darkness, the face of a beast emerges close to mine. It looks like a hybrid, rabid wolf-dog. Black as night with evil, yellow eyes, sharp pointed teeth and a drooling, long tongue, it is the incarnation of pure evil. I try to move away from it but I’m bound immovable. It licks its thick lips, giving me a malevolent sneer before going round in circles around me. It sniffs me, licks me even nips at me, drawing blood. I can hear its thoughts but I can’t move.
“Let the unborn come untouched into the world. Let it live out its destiny. Do not refuse us our destiny!”
My final shriek sears through the infinite expanse of this terrifying realm before being sucked with the black swirls back into a world that is no longer safe.
I come awake with a loud gasp. Every atom in my body is shaken up with the ferocity of the warning I have received. I stumble out of the car and bend over to retch in the bushes. Afterwards I lean my head back on the car. The warning as frightening as it was is telling me, I’m seeking answers in the right place.
I hear running footsteps behind me. In the next instant, Ajaz grabs me in his arms embracing me in their safety. I’m shaking like a leaf with a cold sweat covering my body. His eyes are grim as he takes in my pathetic state. I can sense his helplessness. He knows I’ll tell him the details later but what he really wants to know is a way to stop these visions from happening.
I’m grateful for the water he offers me. When I’m calmer, I notice he’s holding my bag. My smile is still shaky but proud. “Always the hero. I hope you didn’t hit him.”
Ajaz shakes his head. He’s tired, I can tell and I wonder how long he’ll indulge me on this wild goose chase. “He actually threw it at me and ran off before I could get to him. Check if anything’s missing.”
I take a peek. Money, lipstick, eyeliner, hairbrush, hair ties, they’re all there. My wallet with my credit, and debit cards and my identity card is missing. I bite my lower lip. Bloody hell. Now I’ll have to call the help lines and get everything cancelled. I sigh out loud. This is going to be one long ride back to the hotel.
~ ~ ~
Mahesh, our delightful guide, has almost lost his sanity worrying over the bad luck that seems to follow me. He suggests heading to a temple and performing a cleansing ritual but I manage to assure him all’s well with me.
With the absence of a police station at Devigrah, we’re advised to register a complaint about my lost wallet with the one at the next village. It adds to our travel time in the opposite direction. It’s a groan-worthy task but we have to do it.
Ajaz is fast losing his patience. He almost hand feeds me the snacks we’re carrying. He knows I'm tired but there’s nothing we can do about it. I snuggle into his warmth and fall asleep. It’s almost evening with the sun hanging low in the horizon. By the time we reach the village, Kalinga, it’s dark.
I’m reluctant to wake up but Ajaz doesn’t allow me to continue sleeping alone in the car. He is determined to keep me by his side. We enter the tiny police station that is centrally located in the village’s market square. The place is almost deserted. Mahesh informs us that in these parts most villagers wind up early and head on to their homes. These are sleepy, forgotten places seeped in routines and hardly have any visitors.
The policeman is charge is a constable. He smiles at us when we enter. Almost as if he’s expecting us, a voice cautions me. Ajaz instantly tucks an arm around me. This time he’s not letting me go.
“Good evening, sir, madam.” The constable gives us a wide smile, gesturing towards the chairs in front of him. “Please sit. Will you have something?”
“No,” Ajaz interjects before I can. “We’ve come here to file a theft…”
Mahesh looks as confused as us. He chooses to address the policeman directly in his native language. We don’t understand what he says but the constable’s harsh tone answering his question tells us that the man didn’t like being questioned. Mahesh lowers his eyes looking intimidated.
“So where is it?” Ajaz asks.
The constable turns his attention back to us with his creepy grin. “Where’s what?”
Ajaz is throwing off signals that he’s super annoyed. That is never good for anyone. “The item that he stole from us,” he says tightly, veins jutting out at his jaw.
“Oh.” Oh? The constable is bobbing his head in a most annoying manner that tells us zilch. “I don’t have it.”
“What?!” Ajaz and I exclaim at the same time.
It startles him enough to wipe that grin out and stare at us in surprise. “He didn’t give it to me. He just told us what he did.”
This is beyond frustrating! “Okay. I’d like to file a report about my missing…” I begin before a figure entering the police station catches my eye. It’s the kid! “Hey!”
The boy immediately puts his hands in defence up as Ajaz and I stride towards him. Ajaz grips his collar dragging him forward. The boy tries to cover his face in anticipation of a sound beating.
I scream in horror. “Ajaz, no!”
Ajaz’s clenched fist stops mid-air. He pulls the boy forward, a menacing scowl gracing his face. “You better return the wallet right now!”
The boy clasps his hands together. “Forgive me, please forgive me. But I don’t have it.”
“What?!” It’s a jolly evening of exclamations for Ajaz and me.
“Doctor Babu. Doctor Babu has it.” The boy is shivering, his wild eyes shifting between us. “He has asked you to come. Come with me. I will take you to him.”
Ajaz has lost most of his patience by now. He body slams the boy into the station door. I know there’s more drama in his action than force. Ajaz has superb control over the intensity of physical tasks. “This had better not be a fucking joke! Go to the doctor’s house now and get the fucking wallet!” His warning is a bellow that has us all cringing.
A movement at the entrance of the police station catches my eye. My sharp intake has Ajaz following the line of my vision.
Standing there is the man we have been looking for; Partho Sangram.
Twenty - four
Untold secrets.
Ajaz and I are arguing near our car away from earshot of the others. It’s chilly now as night has set in so I stuff my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket.
“We came here all the way, you’ve met him, now ask what you want and let’s get out of here.” Ajaz has never looked so annoyed with me before.
I give him my patient look that he completely hates. It tells him I’ve made up my stubborn mind, when is he going to change his? I rarely lose. “There’s a lot I need to know. I can’t do it here, not in front of all these people.”
“I’ll send them off,” Ajaz argues back, “I’m not sure going to his house is a good idea.”
“Well, you should’ve thought of that before. What did you think we were going to do after we find him? Chat in a coffee shop?”
His cheeks are red with the cold and utterly kissable. He looks thoroughly pissed. “I admit I hadn’t thought it through.” He’s frustrated enough to want to shake me by my shoulders but he draws me in his warm embrace instead. “He can be dangerous, babes. We have no idea what’s waiting for us at his place. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.”
I look up at him with my winning smile. “And vice versa. You’re not as invincible as you think, hotshot. He could hurt you too.”
He still looks doubtful. “And you still want to go?”
I nod like a child asking for candy. “We have to go and find answers for our baby, Ajaz. He might be our only hope.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“I don’t. But I’m willing to try if you trust me, trust my instincts.” My big, baby eyes work magic at his resistance. He lets out a resigned sigh.
“On one condition.” I don’t even hear him out before I fling my arms around his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I can tell he’s not sharing my excitement when he sets me away with a stern look. “We spend one hour at his place, we don’t eat or drink anything he gives us, we get whatever it is you’re looking for and get the hell out. And you stay by my side all the time.”
I pinch my lips. “Two hours.”
“One and a half.”
“One hour forty five minutes.”
He tries melting me with his look, it doesn’t work so he finally gives in. “Okay. Deal. Let’s go.”
~ ~ ~
Our car leaves the dim lit streets of the village behind and follow Partho’s SUV through dark unpaved roads. It was a task making the car’s driver agree on the extended journey but there’s nothing a generous incentive can’t do.
Ajaz is wound up like a tight spring waiting to pounce on someone for no reason at all. He has my hand in a death’s grip. I’m sure if he could, he would have physically tied us together. I’m feeling pretty confident there’s nothing to worry about.
Ominous situation aside, Partho Sangram looks pretty harmless. When we tell him of our decision to go with him to his home, he gives a small nod and gets in his car. Not quite the greeting I had expected as a long, lost daughter. It’s possible he doesn’t know the truth about me.
It takes us almost fifteen minutes to reach his house. A long driveway leads us to a large, British era mansion. It has stone walls covered with creepers, a sloping roof and large windows with wooden frames. Most windows except for the ones by the main door sit in the dark. A dull, yellow lamp illuminates the porch and Partho has stepped through the main door before we exit our vehicle.
The deserted location of the mansion sends a moment of trepidation through me. What if Ajaz is right? What if this is a trap? What if Partho Sangram is a dangerous man? I shake off the pessimism and move ahead with Ajaz towards the house while the driver and Mahesh wait in the car. It’s too late to turn back now. It’s time to be brave.
A narrow passage lies behind the main entrance as was typical of all British mansions. On some other day, we would’ve shrugged off our jackets but tonight we’re not concerned with manners. If things go South, we need to get out as soon as possible without worrying about our belongings.
Partho’s waiting at the end of the passage. “This way,” he jerks his head towards a door on his right.
We follow him into his office that looks more like a library. The room is huge. It has a cold, stone flooring covered sporadically with worn out rugs, floor to ceiling book libraries, dull, yellow wall lamps, a large window with old curtains gracing it on one side, a rundown leather sofa with two armchairs next to it, a few side tables and a gigantic mahogany table with one large office chair and two wooden chairs for visitors.
Partho is already around the desk in an almost business-like manner. I get the sense he’s heading for his comfort zone. “Please,” he gestures toward the visitors chairs.
Ajaz and I both sit. The chairs are deceptively comfortable. Ajaz shifts his closer to mine and we sit holding hands like children. For an awkward moment I do nothing but observe the man who is my father with keen eyes.
Partho Sangram has aged well. His hair is well beyond grey, almost silver which makes him look rather distinguished. It’s tied up in a tight ponytail giving him a hip-modern look. His eyes are sharp behind his spectacles, he has a neat moustache and a goatee, his attire is simple and yet sophisticated. I especially approve of the tweed, elbow patch jacket he’s wearing. It’s strange that he looks the
part of a doctor when he is not.
He’s assessing me too. The wild tresses, sunk-in eyes and cheeks are probably not an attractive image for one’s off-spring. Well, tough. I can’t help it, I’ve had a long day and a rougher life. Not as rough as his, my inner voice points out.
He finally smiles at me. It miraculously converts him into the man I once knew. “You’re beautiful, Poppy.”
I can’t help but offer him a tiny smile. Poppy was the nickname he used for me. It was exclusive and it made me feel special. Slow memories start opening doors to take their turns at peeking at this man I had once adored. I recall with amazing clarity, long drives in his car with the family, beach picnics, circus visits, drive-in movies, dinners, birthdays, anniversaries, festivals. The endless list gives evidence of the integral role this man played in my life.
True Rising: Mark of the Defenders Page 22
