They returned to Bhabra three hours past dusk. After checking up on the cows, Chikki and Suman, Madhu had little energy to do anything but crash.

The following morning, a plan was imprinted in her mind even before the crust completely fell off from her eyes. If it could be called a plan.

It was more of a sense of purpose, an urge to unclutter. Something. Anything. Everything. She continued to lay on the bed, preparing herself for the day. Nakul's side was cold. Seven in the morning and he was already up and about. That relieved her a little, she still had some time.

Six days.

A quick bath and breakfast later she drifted out of the house, wrapped in a shawl to guard against the beginnings of winter chill. Behind her, she was pulling on the garden trolley Nakul had rolled in her art studio many moons ago, carrying the murtis she had finished painting on Dusshera. Dried and ready, they were to be kept in the empty school room behind the temple until Diwali.

She placed the murtis beneath the table Sunanda used, covering them with a newspaper and making a mental note to take her cell number from Satish for enquiring after her. Leaving the room, she considered going inside the temple to look for the Pundit when she spotted a saffron robe disappearing from her line of sight. She followed it around the temple until she spotted the old man on the ghat, lips muttering in prayer as lose marigold petals slid from his open palm into the water.

Toeing out of her flats, she descended the steps until she was next to him, cool water rising up till her ankles and soothing the cuts on her bandage-free feet. He tipped his head to acknowledge her presence, speaking only after his palms were empty and the mantra complete.

"How are you this morning?" It was a simple question, unassuming even. But there was something about the way he asked it that made her pause, wanting to be honest yet impress him at the same time. In their short friendship, she had become used to his eccentric, almost eerie way of speaking. Low baritone forcing her to stop and think about her answer.

"Pretty good," she said slowly. "Happy even, but I don't know where to go from here."

"To sustain that happiness?"

"Yeah. I cannot stay here, in Bhabra I mean. As much as I love this place, I need to go back."

"Wasn't that always your plan? What's holding you back now?"

"My newfound source of happiness?" she found herself saying then immediately cringed at how corny it sounded, regardless of how true it was.

"Then you need to do redirect your source. Happiness should come from within. It's unfair to burden anyone else with that job." He turned around to pick up his white cotton jhola lying on the top step before returning to her side.

"Okay I'm not here for one of your spiritual lectures." She didn't bother asking how he knew it was someone instead of something.

"I don't give lectures, that's the job of a guru I'm a pundit."

"Is there any difference?"

He cracked a smile. "Well then why are you here?"

"Just to say hi," she faltered. "And also to tell you I finished the murtis. They're in the school."

"Come by tomorrow to collect your payment."

"That's not necessary, consider it a donation."

"Take this anyway," he said, pressing three marigolds in her hand and closing her fist. "Today's prasad."

She stared at the flowers, their deep maroon and saffron petals becoming hazy like the bottom of an unfocused kaleidoscope. A sheen of moisture had appeared in her eyes out of nowhere. The Pundit started walking up the stairs, back to the temple when she called out, "Pawan kaka?"

He turned around, calm as ever. "Yes?"

"I...I don't know how to do that," she managed to confess, gulping back a sob. "To redirect my source."

"Start by surrounding yourself with the truth."

"God is not the truth. Not an objective one anyway."

"Who says I'm talking about Gods?"

Madhu watched him wave goodbye, sling the cotton jhola over his shoulder, and walk into the temple premises. She sat down on a step, unseeing gaze fixed at the river, its water now reaching her knees, soaking her jeans. It was warm, the water, alive with the recent memory of summer. She balled her shawl, tossed it on the dry top step and started towards the river. Pure instinct prompted her to keep moving against the gentle sideways current until the water reached her waist.

The last time she had done this was in 1997, a year before her Ma had taken to bed. That trip to Haridwar was perhaps their last as a family. The icy waters of Ganga had left her with a strange energy channelling through her veins. The like she had never experienced before or since.

Until today.

This river wasn't as grand or mighty or holy as Ganga. Heck, it didn't even have a name. People just called it Bhabra nadi.

But it felt equally, if not more, welcoming. Her lungs expanded to hold in a breath, her legs folded at the knees and her head went under water, plunging her into complete and utter silence. Tranquil water flowed over her head. A tender stroke of her now soaking hair. A blessing from Mother Nature herself.

She dived in two more times, opening her fists as she did so and allowing the petals to float with the waves.

When earlier that morning Madhulika hadn't seen a single person, she had chalked it up to the season of late sunrises. But now at half past nine, which was the regular time when people would start setting up shop in the market, all stalls and carts were boarded up. Even the usual morning devotees weren't thronging the temple steps like they did every day.

A gust of wind hit her dripping hair, the shawl offering little protection from the chill. Though glad that the dip had allowed her to introspect, she longed for some dry clothes and increased the pace of her steps.

Her uneasiness grew as she continued walking past houses with sealed doors and windows. Even cattle sheds were empty of cows and goats. Something was definitely wrong.

She reached the corner of her house only for someone to grab her bicep in a vice grip. "Where were you?" Nakul hissed in her ear.

"At the ghat," she said dumbly, taken aback by how dishevelled he looked, eyes a frantic red and perspiration trapped in the creases of his forehead. He hurried towards the house. "Are you okay?"

He didn't release her arm until they were inside the property with the metal gate firmly shut behind them. "Come on quick."

"What's going on?" she repeated, following him inside the house. Her eyes widened when she faced the courtyard. "Why are they here?"

Chikki was running laps around Gayatri, delighted to have her in the house with him. Three buckets of fodder were placed in front of her cows who, for some reason, were tied to the pillars around the courtyard, sitting in the three corners of her house instead of their own shed. "Nakul what's-"

"Reena is stolen."

Hair on her arms stood at their ends, a current of alarm zapping through her body. Of all the things she'd thought could be wrong, Madhu hadn't even allowed herself to entertain something of this enormity. Reena. Her student. Her inquisitive, chipper girl who didn't miss a single beat while throwing questions in her direction. The girl Madhu had pulled out of flames.

She willed her mind to focus on Nakul's words as he continued speaking, striding towards her grandfather's study with Madhu on his heels.

"They might still be in the forest. I told them to go ahead without me when I came to get the gun only to find you missing." His tone was measured, almost robotic. Yet Madhu felt he was accusing her. Her visit to the temple had made him unable to help his people.

He recovered his firearm that he kept in the drawer of the study's desk before finally turning around to meet her eyes.

"Madhulika I need you to take this very seriously." He bent down, gripping both her shoulders and speaking to her like she was a petulant child. "You need to stay here until I get back, until it's safe to step out of the house. You need to call the police. Satish tried but they won't pick up. Call the Commissioner if you have to but get through to the authorities. We need to know if Vishal is still in custody."

"Is he behind this?"

"His name is written all over this." Nakul affirmed.

He waited a moment, as if anticipating an argument from her. When he didn't get one, he left, no sweet reassurances or goodbyes this time.

She went straight to her room, picking up her cell phone from the nightstand. Only when it was pressed against her damp hair did she remember that she still needed to change out of her clothes.

Her father picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Pranam Papa."

There was a moment of silence on the other side as Mahesh Lal Thakur realised his daughter had contacted him unprompted. Her second call to him in over a month. He cleared his throat. "Madhulika? Is anything wrong? Wasn't your phone broken?"

"I bought a new one," she said. "Papa can you call that DGP friend of yours? There's an emergency."

"Is everything alright? Are you hurt?"

"No, no I'm fine, it's not about me." She quickly told him about the situation at hand.

It was times like these when she felt profoundly grateful for Mahesh Lal Thakur's stoic pragmatism. He wasn't a hugger, or the kind of father who played chess with her every Sunday, but Madhu could sense he was still hurt that she hadn't contacted him to discuss anything except business. Yet he listened on in horror as she described, briefly, the barbarities she had witnessed in the past month.

She relayed to him what Sunanda had told her about the thefts and attempted murders, she told him about Champa and Kamal and Brigesh and Vishal and the fire and now, Reena. Though it was important that he knew enough context to pull his leverage over the authorities, for Madhu each passing second was a stab of panic at the idea that Reena might get further away.

"I'll talk to him," was all her father said after she finished, hanging up without a bye.

At least something was still normal.

While waiting for her cell to ring again, Madhu peeled out of her wet clothes and pulled on a woollen kurta over fresh leggings before dropping on the unmade bed, clutching her phone as if her life depended on it. As if Reena's life depended on it.

Stolen was the word Nakul had used. Not kidnapped because she was too poor for that. Not missing because she hadn't ventured out on her own. Stolen. Like a commodity. Like cattle. To be cut into pieces for meat and sold to the highest bidder. She was too young to be useful labour so that only left...

No. Madhu couldn't complete that thought.

The phone rang ten minutes later, this time, her father skipped a hello too.

"DGP saab has instructed the Sakshinagar police to launch a search operation for the kidnappers. District borders have been sealed, and they're alerting authorities in Nepal. The kidnappers won't be able to get out of the state in a vehicle. Reeta--"

"Reena," Madhu corrected him.

"Yeah whatever, the girl would be okay. Do you have a pen and paper?"

She reached for a notepad and pen lying on the nightstand. "Yes."

"Note the number of the SP of Sakshinagar, I've also forwarded your number to him."

Madhu quickly noted the digits her father was dictating, repeating them aloud twice until he was satisfied. "Okay I'll tell Nakul this," Madhu said. "He's really worried."

"Where is he?" her father asked.

"Umm, gone to join the search party in the forest. Children have gone missing before too but they're always found in the forest. Smugglers usually take kids as bargaining chips to keep villagers away until they get out of Bhabra. The kids are dumped in the forest for parents to find them later. This time they actually took Reena."

The line went silent and if it wasn't for the sound of his shallow breaths Madhu would've assumed her father had hung up again. Eventually words of quiet guilt came from him. "I should've known about all this. Nothing has changed since...since I was a kid."

She didn't comfort him because he was right. He should've known. Madhu should've known too before coming here. All these years, all this money and they had remained blissfully ignorant of the struggles of their own people.

He sighed. "Anyway, you be careful and don't go out without Nakul okay?"

"Why would you think I'll do that?"

"You're your mother's daughter," came his reason, and she felt a tiny smile form on her mouth.

"Fair enough."

"Keep me posted," he said before ending the call.

Springing up from the bed, she stepped outside her room, pacing round the corridor lining the courtyard. Her pets were now joined by Kamal and Kavita, who were stroking Chikki's golden hair.

Madhulika was the epicentre of useless energy, frustrated by her helplessness, by the amount of waiting she had to do to be of any use. Doing nothing seemed more difficult than being in the thick of things. Fiddling with her phone, she tried bargaining with herself. Debating the amount of time she'd wait for to seek an update.

Her impatience won in ten minutes and she dialled the number of the Superintendent.

"Hello who's this?" answered a gruff, stern voice.

Madhu cleared her throat. "Uh Madhulika Thakur, I'm calling on behalf of Reena's parents, the girl who was--"

"Stolen yes I know. Madam we have sealed the district borders and every checkpoint is being monitored. The DGP himself is involved so please, trust that we'll rescue her. Till then please don't ring on this number again."

Reprimanded like a child for the second time that day, Madhu swallowed her humiliation and replied with a meek, "Okay."

She turned to Kamal after ending the call. "Where's your Amma?"

"Cooking."

Champa indeed was in the kitchen, leaning over a huge wok filled to the brim with dal. "I thought you would want me to make lunch for everyone," she said before Madhu could even ask.

"Everyone?"

"Nakul bhai, Sattu, Reena's family and everyone else in the search party."

She blinked at Champa, disarmed by her generosity. "Okay, give me flour to knead then, that's all I can do."

They were joined by Suman and together managed to cook dal, rice, chapattis and spicy potatoes for almost forty people. Madhu kept her phone close as she went around the kitchen, moving on the wash the utensils after finishing with the dough. The task engaged her restlessness but not enough. She kept checking for missed calls every other minute, afraid that she might miss its ringing.

The search party turned up at her house three hours later, tired and empty-handed.

Madhu couldn't look at Reena's father, whose frail, grieving body was supported by two other men. Her uncles, she later came to know as they introduced themselves. Champa and Suman helped her serve them food. Unlike other community lunches she had organised, this was sombre. Madhu had expected people to protest, to say they couldn't possibly eat when their girl was missing, but it seemed like all fight had escaped them.

After everyone had a meal in front of them, Madhu settled down between Nakul and Satish, nodding at the latter as a way of greeting.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"Later," she said.

He took her hand and she let him, too tired to care about appearances and gossip. They ate in silence, with Nakul feeding her bites until she gave in and stood up to get her own plate.

Her Nokia started ringing when she returned to her place. Snatching it from the floor, Madhu pressed the green button, her food lying forgotten on the ground. "Hello?"

There was a crackle on the other line as the SP took a minute to answer, barking orders to someone else in the background. From across the corridor, Madhu saw Reena's father and uncles approach her.

"Hello? Miss Thakur?" His voice was neutral and she didn't know what to make of it.

"Yes, yes this is her."

"We have Reena with us, and her two kidnappers as well. They were trying to go East, to Bihar and then Assam."

She only registered the first part, not bothered about the rest. "Reena is with you? Is she safe?"

"Yes she's fine, we're taking her to Sakshinagar for a check-up but she looks uninjured."

Only after that confirmation did Madhu allow herself to face Reena's father, mouthing, "she's fine," to him. He collapsed against a pillar, relief taking over his features.

"Thank you, thank you so much officer, we'll be right there to collect her."

"Vishal is still in custody, right?" came a question from one of Reena's uncles.

"I think so," Madhu said, unsure. She repeated the question to the SP. He went silent on the other line.

"Is Vishal still in custody?" Madhu asked again, insistent.

"He was granted bail yesterday, for Brigesh Babu's last rites," he said finally. "Alright I need to go Miss Thakur, convey this good news to her parents."

Satish, who was leaning close to Madhu, had heard the officer and exclaimed after the call ended, "Vishal is out on bail? But I just spoke to Sunanda di, she's on her way back to Bhabra and said only her and her nephews were present at the cremation. Daksh lit the funeral pyre."

"So, if Vishal wasn't with the kidnappers, or in jail or in Dehra--"

"He's here."

Every head snapped towards Nakul but he was looking at Champa. "When Vishal and his men took you away, I searched in the forest but Madhu found you in their granary. What if he's hiding on his own property again? That's what I would do if I were him."

When in the future Madhu would try to remember what transpired in the next few hours, the most vivid memory would be of the complete and utter lack of control she had felt.

Reena's father and two uncles were on their feet mere seconds after Nakul suggested the possibility of Vishal being in Bhabra. Alarmed when he realised what they intended to do, he tried to stop them.

He tried his best! She would furiously repeat to herself, hours, days, even weeks later. She knew that, she saw that.

He tried his best.

And as soon as he did, he was abandoned. He became the enemy. The defender of Vishal. The man who had opened Bhabra to outsiders stealing from them, shooting at them when they tried to protect their children and animals. He was same man Madhu and Nakul also despised for torturing Champa. But right now, in the eyes of the villagers, all three were the same.

Just because Nakul tried to stop them.

Reena's father, her uncles, her neighbours, and so many other men who didn't even know her but were equally angry, turned to him. Their rage, hot and explosive, made the air crackle. It amplified as it found an outlet in every single person present in her house. Everyone except her and Nakul who just felt dread.

Nakul was shoved away when it became clear he was going to physically stop them, his foot getting caught on a chipped step of the courtyard, his shoulders absorbing the brunt of his fall as he lay sprawled on the floor. Madhu and Satish rushed to help him, while the crowd filed out of her house in the direction of the only other grand mansion in Bhabra.

"Call the police!" Nakul muttered in her ear, urgent yet careful to not let them hear.

Pressing the redial button on her Nokia, she followed behind him as Nakul went after the mob.

He gave her a pleading look to stay put.

"Not this time, I'm coming with you."

The SP's phone had completed ringing without him answering it. Madhu wrote him an urgent message describing the situation before dialling the local police instead. They didn't answer either. Her desperation grew. Without police assistance it would be thirty against two.

Three if they counted Vishal.

By the time Madhu and Nakul caught up to them, they had already teared down the massive iron gates of his mansion. The crowd ignored them, storming inside his house and two minutes later, returning with him.

Dragging him.

Any remaining hope that Nakul would be wrong, that Vishal would not be there, was lost when she saw him being pulled by his feet. His face scraping against the hard ground, arms flailing, alternating between shielding his head from on-coming booted kicks and digging into the ground to delay, maybe even prevent, his fate.

The mob wasn't that forgiving.

He was brought to the Banyan tree. The same tree where village council meetings were held. This time it was going to be a witness to another, more primitive form of justice.

Nakul fought his way into the crowd, wanting to reason with them. Madhu did too. But even their collective words fell weak against raw bloodlust.

They were expelled from the crowd. Madhu didn't know if it had been to push her away or if someone wanted to actually grope a feel, but her breasts had been squeezed. Her mouth opened in a silent shriek at the blinding pain as she stumbled away on shaky legs.

Nakul was by her side immediately, tugging her till they backed away to a distance, away from the mob.

But not enough to avoid witnessing its brutality.

They were reduced to being helpless spectators, the same kind of people Madhu used to pity. Sometime during the journey from his house to the tree, Vishal had been stripped naked. His cries echoed through the village, getting absorbed by the clear open sky. He wailed as lathis hit his bare skin, howled as numerous feet marked any surface of his body they could find.

They stood watching as oil was poured on his arms, just his arms, and the putrid smell of burning flesh reached them. His howls turned into wails, begging for forgiveness. They watched until the wails stopped too, pain rendering him mute.

Madhu was sobbing, standing upright only because of Nakul's arms around her shoulders. She prayed for his death, for this to end.

She prayed until the Gods responded and police sirens blazed through Bhabra.