The Deadly Conch

by Mahtab Narsimhan

  “I failed, Lord Yama. I failed.”

  Yama glanced at Layla, who stood in the front row staring at them, aghast. He turned to the Panchayats. “Have you all taken complete leave of your senses? You’re killing the one person who is trying to save you? You’re all weak, foolish, and PATHETIC!”

  The crowd drew back. Only Raka stood his ground.

  “Lord Yama,” he said, folding his hands, “we did not expect to see you here. But with all due respect, you are wrong. Tara has committed terrible crimes that have ruined the livelihood of many. The effects of her actions will be felt not just by Morni, but Pinjaur, too, for months to come. She has upset the gods with her wickedness and we’re all paying for it. The monsoon has failed and our crops are dead. Yesterday, she was up to her cruel tricks in Pinjaur and this time we have a witness.”

  “She wasn’t even in your world yesterday, let alone Pinjaur,” said Lord Yama. “Tara was in the Underworld, trying to talk sense into Kali to save your miserable hides. I know it because I took her there and brought her back.”

  The collective gasp of the crowd was music to Tara’s ears. At last, they knew the truth. The truth that she had struggled to keep to herself because of her promise to Lord Yama. She scanned the crowd, but no one met her eyes.

  Raka mopped his streaming white face with his turban. “But then who did that old man, Dayalu, see at the well? He swore he saw Tara. Are you saying he was lying?”

  Lord Yama reached out a massive hand and plucked Layla from the front row. “This is the bad egg. She’s been acting on the instructions of her mother, Kali, and wreaking havoc with all your lives.”

  “That can’t be true,” said Raka. His voice shook and broke. “It’s not possible …”

  “In all the time that you have known Tara, have you ever seen her kill anything or hurt anyone?” said Yama.

  Raka shook his head.

  “Then how could you believe she could contaminate not one, but two wells harming hundreds of people?”

  “But the evidence —” Raka started to say.

  “Can be tampered with,” snapped Lord Yama. “Who vanquished Zarku and saved you all from a fate worse than death?”

  “Tara,” said Raka in a very small voice.

  “Who brought Suraj and Sadia back at great peril to her own life?”

  This time Raka could not reply. He swallowed hard.

  “Tara!” said Yama. “How could you even think she could be guilty? Just because you found an article of clothing and a pot at the sites of the crimes? Raka, I thought the Panchayat was wise and you more so, but you’ve disappointed me today. You have made such a huge mistake.”

  Raka flushed. “We thought that because she’d spent so much time with Zarku, his evil influence —”

  “Are you mad?” said Yama. “You let superstition guide your actions? I’m appalled at your stupidity.”

  “But then why didn’t she tell us the truth?” said Raka. “Why did she stay silent? We gave her the chance to speak yesterday. She said she went for a walk all alone. We all knew that was a lie!”

  Lord Yama came up to Tara and wiped her cheeks gently. He looked at the blood smeared on his hand and shook his head once again. “Why didn’t you tell them, Tara?”

  “I gave you my word that I wouldn’t,” said Tara softly.

  Lord Yama patted her head. “You are a star, Tara. In all my time, I have never seen someone as brave and true as you.”

  Yama turned around to face the Raka. “I had made Tara promise not to tell anyone where she had been. It would have ruined the balance in the world and would have angered some gods. All she was doing was keeping her word, even though it meant she would have to pay for the silence with her life. You should touch her feet, Raka, and worship her instead of stoning her to death. That goes for all of you.”

  Raka’s eyes darted to Kripan, who looked defiant and then back to Lord Yama. Finally he looked at Tara. “On behalf of the Panchayat, please accept our apology. We have made a huge mistake.”

  “YES, YOU HAVE!” said Yama. “All of you missed the real culprit, Layla, even though Tara tried to warn you several times.”

  Tara turned to see Layla’s reaction, but she wasn’t there. While he and Raka were talking she had slipped into the crowd.

  Tara ignored the agonizing pain that made it hard to move even a muscle and dove into the crowd. She caught Layla by her pigtail and dragged her back to the front. Layla squealed, trying to break free. Not a single villager helped her. Tara hung on to her with every bit of strength she had. With Yama next to her, she could finally complete what she had set out to do. And this time no one would dare stop her.

  “Please,” said Layla. “I’m just a child. You can’t hurt me.”

  “But you were willing to hurt another child?” said Yama, towering over her. “In all my years I have not come across anyone like you, Layla. You have put the most corrupt souls to shame because you have done so much harm to so many, at such a young age. I dread to think what you’ll be capable of when you grow up.”

  Tara addressed the Panchayat. “This is exactly what I’ve been telling everyone. Kali’s last words to me were that Layla would avenge her death and she was right. That’s why I requested Lord Yama to take me to the Underworld to meet Kali, to stop her from influencing her daughter. But it was futile. Kali said she’d stop only after I was dead and she’d taken revenge on each and every villager in Morni who had wronged her.”

  “So then … all of those terrible things that happened in Morni; the wells, the butchered dog in the temple,” asked Raka. “That was you, Layla?”

  Layla looked from Raka to Lord Yama and finally to Tara. She chewed her nails but did not utter a word.

  “You’d better speak up,” said Tara. She wanted Layla to confess in front of all the villagers so that her name would be clear.

  Layla shook her head.

  Tara wrapped her hands around Layla’s fat neck; an act she had dreamed of for so long. Terror sprang into Layla’s eyes and Tara’s grip slackened involuntarily as she realized what she was really doing. She was cold-bloodedly murdering a child!

  Layla seemed to sense her thoughts. The terror in her eyes receded. Layla was expecting her to show mercy as always. But then, Suraj’s face popped into her head.

  Tara remembered his small hand in hers, growing cold while she had argued with her mother. Because of Layla she would never hear him call her Didi again. Her hands tightened and she stepped closer, their faces inches apart. No one attempted to intervene.

  “I want the Panchayat to hear this, Layla. Who put the dead dog in the temple and framed me?” said Tara.

  “I-I don’t …” Layla stuttered. Tara squeezed hard and the answer popped out of Layla.

  “I did it,” said Layla. “Let me go now.”

  The villagers muttered audibly.

  “Why did you do something so terrible, Layla?” said Raka. He stepped closer and stared at Layla as if she were a particularly loathsome insect. “Even if you hated Tara, why would our defile the temple? Have you no respect for God, for the rest of us?”

  Layla struggled to break free. Tara slapped her hard. Layla stopped twitching, her eyes glittering with rage.

  “I’m not finished yet, Rakaji,” said Tara. “Who contaminated Morni’s well water?”

  Layla stared at Tara. Sweat beaded her forehead and her lower lip quivered. The livid crowd hurled curses at her.

  “Evil spawn of an evil mother!”

  “You miserable wretch.”

  “Give her the same punishment we gave Tara: stone her to death!”

  “I asked you a question,” said Tara in a cold voice. Her arms were starting to ache and she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to hold on.

  “You know the answer so stop asking silly questions,” said Layla. “Mother and I still communicate. She came up with the plans and I carried them out. We never expected to be caught.”

  Tara’s relief was so great that she a
lmost let go of Layla. She had finally cleared her name; the granddaughter of Prabala had not ruined the family name of the Lalls.

  An ashen-faced Sumathy emerged from the crowd. She came up to them and slapped Layla hard. “You are your mother’s daughter all right,” said Sumathy. “We looked after you and all along you were the cause of all our troubles. You’ve ruined my belief in the innocence of childhood.”

  Layla spit in her face and Sumathy was so shocked that she stood still, saliva dripping down her cheeks.

  “Who was that old man who said he saw me by the well at Pinjaur?” said Tara, eager to remove any doubt from the villagers’ minds.

  “I know you’ve figured it out,” said Layla. “So why don’t you show the villagers how clever you are. If you want to throw me out of the village, go ahead and do it. I don’t care!”

  Tara shook her so hard that her head snapped back and forth.

  “Stop … you’re hurting me,” said Layla.

  Lord Yama stepped up closer. “You better answer that, Layla.” He said it very quietly but his tone was stern and forbidding.

  “It was Dushta, my grandfather,” said Layla. A sullen expression replaced the ever-present smirk on her pasty face.

  This time the crowd didn’t even gasp. They were just as shocked as she had been when she’d realized that Kali’s father was still alive, and that he had aided his granddaughter in giving false testimony.

  Raka beckoned to a couple of villagers. “Mangu, Hari, go and find him, now,” he said. “Bring him back. He will be severely punished for his part in this scheme.” The villagers loped off immediately.

  “I have one last question, Layla,” said Tara. “I know the answer, but I still want to hear it from you. Why did you set fire to my hut? You hated me, not my family, so why did you take Suraj away from me?”

  Layla stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “I would love to take credit for it, but it wasn’t me.”

  Tara dug her fingers into Layla’s windpipe. Layla gasped and choked but she still managed to croak. “Not me.”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me,” said Tara. Anger gave her strength and she squeezed harder. “Admit it. You killed my brother!”

  Layla’s eyes bulged with terror and she gasped. “Not. Me.”

  “Let her go,” said a voice that was as familiar to her as her heartbeat.

  “I did it,” he said.

  — twenty-seven —

  Revelations and Regrets

  Tara’s hands dropped to her sides. She turned around very slowly and faced Ananth.

  His face was a mask of stone. “I am the culprit.”

  “Why?” whispered Tara. “Why?” She was shivering so violently that it was difficult to speak. She sank to the ground, not taking her eyes off Ananth, wishing Lord Yama had taken her away before she had asked this question. “Did Layla force you to do this?”

  Ananth looked away once again and now Tara understood why he hadn’t been able to meet her eyes. It was his guilt, not hers, which made him avoid her.

  Layla shrieked with laughter. “I wish I could say this was my plan, but it wasn’t. Your brother did this by himself. Bravo, Ananth!”

  “Not by himself,” said another voice Tara knew well. “He was following instructions.”

  She closed her eyes and held her aching head in her hands. So this was the surprise Kali and Zarku had been laughing about. But it could not be real. She was having a nightmare and when she awoke, she would be in her bed and everything would be all right.

  “I told him to do this,” said Raka in a shaky voice. “It was the Panchayat’s decision and we were wrong.”

  The last vestiges of respect for Morni, and its Panchayat, evaporated. Tara had known Raka all her life and yet, she realized, she did not know him at all. He had been the pillar of strength for the people of Morni. For her. Only now she saw how many cracks had appeared in that pillar. It was crumbling.

  “You asked Ananth to set fire to our home?” said Tara. “Why?”

  Raka took a deep breath. “The Panchayat was under a lot of pressure from the villagers,” he said. “They believed that if you and your family were gone from Morni it would rid us of all the bad luck we were having. You’ve been too close to Zarku and we all believed that you brought his evil home to us. With you gone, the drought would be over. Peace and prosperity would return to Morni.”

  Tara gulped. Her throat was so tight, she could barely speak. “You listened to them? I saved you all from Zarku and you thought I was bad luck for the village?”

  Raka did not say a word, but the answer was on his face.

  “And you decided to get rid of us while my father and grandfather were away? You chose to attack us in the middle of the night, Raka?” She couldn’t address him with the respectful “ji” ever again.

  “As I said, I was under a lot of pressure,” said Raka. “The villagers …”

  Tara got to her feet and gazed at the villagers who looked anywhere but at her.

  “Why did you choose my brother for the job, Raka?” said Tara. “And how could you agree, Ananth?”

  “Because the Panchayat threatened to go through the Sati ceremony for my mother if I didn’t do as I was told,” said Ananth. “They said she was adding to the bad fortune of the villagers. I couldn’t bear to lose her. I’m so very sorry, Tara. No one was happier than I that you escaped.”

  “You would go to such lengths to keep the villagers happy?” Tara said to Raka. “And let me guess, you chose Ananth for the job because there was something you could use to threaten him with, and so that I would never suspect him even if I did catch him loitering near our hut. That’s why the investigation has not come up with anything, right?”

  “I’m sorry, Tara,” said Ananth. He looked as if he was about to cry. “You have no idea how much this has been eating me up inside.”

  “Because of what you did, our brother is dead!” shrieked Tara. She looked around at the villagers. “All of you are responsible for his death!”

  Ananth’s face was the colour of thin milk as he stared at Tara.

  Yama put his hand on her shoulder. “Tara, I’m so very sorry.”

  Ananth stepped forward. “Tara, I’ll do anything to make it up to you, I’ll —”

  “You’ve done quite enough,” said Tara. She stepped forward and grasped Ananth’s right hand. He stared at her, his eyes wide. “What …?”

  Tara ripped the thin thread she had tied to his wrist ages ago, a symbol of the eternal bond between brother and sister, and threw it away. “A real brother would never have done what you did.”

  Ananth’s stricken expression did not give her any satisfaction or relief.

  “That wasn’t the only thing, was it Ananth?” said Tara. “Something else compelled you to do this.”

  Ananth’s voice broke. “I was jealous of you — of all the fame you’ve been getting. You always end up doing things on your own and surviving. It was a moment of madness when I agreed, Tara. Please forgive me. I was so very wrong.”

  Tara shook her head. These revelations weighed on her so heavily that for a moment she could think of nothing but the enormous betrayal by the very people she had loved and trusted.

  “You won’t have to be jealous of me ever again,” said Tara. “I won’t be staying long. Lord Yama is here to take me with him. It was one of the conditions of visiting the Underworld.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Raka. The other members of the Panchayat had gathered round him too.

  “Tara sacrificed her life so that she could rid Morni of the real evil,” replied Lord Yama. “But you cowards don’t deserve this.”

  The shameful expressions on the villagers’ faces should have given her joy, relief. But Tara felt empty. Layla had destroyed everything she had ever valued in her life. Suddenly she realized that Layla had slipped away yet again. “Layla’s gone. Find her, don’t let her get away!”

  The crowd was galvanized into action. Everyone scattered. Tara was abou
t to follow them. If Layla escaped, all this would have been in vain.

  “Tara, it is time for us to go,” said Lord Yama. “The villagers now know the truth and they’ll deal with Layla.”

  Tara stared at him aghast. “My Lord, I need just a few more minutes. I want to have the satisfaction of doing what I set out to do — kill her. Please don’t deny me that.”

  “Things do not work to your time, Tara. I have many other things that need my attention. We have spent far too long here.”

  Tara was about to plead once more when an agonized wail filled the air. It came from near the huts just beyond the clearing. Then there was silence. Tara pushed through the people who were already racing in the direction of the scream. Had Layla attacked someone else? Her mother? Almost faint with anxiety, she sprinted toward the scream.

  She reached the shadows and found Layla. But she wasn’t alone.

  — twenty-eight —

  Forgiveness

  Someone brought a lantern that illuminated a scene Tara could never have imagined.

  Gayatri stared calmly at the gathering crowd. The spotless white saree she normally wore was splotched with red. And Layla lay at her feet, the hilt of a kitchen knife protruding from her chest.

  “What happened, Gayatri-ma?” said Tara in a trembling voice.

  “You’ve carried this burden all by yourself for far too long,” said Gayatri.

  Tara walked up to them and dropped to her knees next to Layla, unable to believe that it had finally happened. Layla stared up at her with sightless eyes. Blood still oozed from the wound on her chest, the deep stain spreading on her kurta.

  Tara waited for that feeling of elation to lift her up, a bubble of joy to grow within her, relief to flood her. The only thing that she felt was a deep sadness for the dead child in front of her. Dead because of a misguided attempt at revenge by Layla’s own mother. And Tara had been driven by the same desire: to avenge Suraj’s death. She had always thought revenge would taste sweet, but it was not so. The bitter taste in her mouth was unbearable.