"Villains and heroes are created by the one who narrates the story. Who knows what the real truth is?"

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"Password please," a feminine voice answered the big brass door on which Mrithun had knocked.

That place was a real maze, with rows and rows of corridors lined with such brass doors. It was like an entire colony of people living in their own quarters. However, the passages were stashed against each other with little space in between, and I suspected those doors were some kind of gateway to rooms below the ground level.

"Matarisvan," Mrithun said smoothly.

"Oh, I know that voice!" The lady's cheerful voice sounded before I heard the groan of machinery and the door suddenly vanished, leaving behind a flimsy curtain, on the other side of which was a curvaceous silhouette of a woman. A pair of chestnut hands parted the white curtains slowly.

I almost screamed.

Half of her face was gone, gone behind swathes of skin folds, charred and blackened beyond recognition. Her eyelid on one side was drooping over her half-opened eye, and a crisscross of scars ran over each other as if competing for space on her face. The burn mark, however, wasn't only on her face. The skin on her neck and both her hands were wrinkled, too. But the smile on those lips was unmistakably sweet.

When she smiled, I noticed pointed canines that slipped harmlessly in and out of her thick brown lips. Realizing that I was gawking, I lowered my eyes to not appear rude.

"Long time no see," she beamed at Mrithun, her eyes flicking over to me once before resting on Mrithun again, visibly confused. She crinkled her nose and sniffed the air.

"You brought a snack for the Pishachas?" She blinked at me again. I stiffened my back, balling up my hands into fists.

"She's a human born Yakshini," Mrithun said quickly.

"Oh!" The lady still stared at me.

"Come in you both. It's not safe for her to stay out here chitchatting. It's the fourteenth day of the waning moon. They're out prowling." There was a warning in her doe-like kohl-lined eyes. Dark circles and purplish marks now adorned the sides of her eyes, but it seemed like once she could have been really pretty.

"Who are they outside?" I asked suddenly.

The woman turned to me, studying me with interest.

"Your doom," she replied finally.

"What?" I asked Mrithun.

"The Pisachas, Danavas, Chedikes and all the creatures of the darkness are out tonight. It's Bhoot Chaturdashi, the fourteenth day of Krishna Paksha," Mrithun explained, before taking my hand and dragging me over the threshold.

We were in a tiny room, lit by a single burning torch on a metal holder. The door we came by had already vanished and there was only a blank wall.

"This place is such a contrast to the offices and everything," I wondered out loud.

"It's because in this place we still prefer the old ways and won't let it get modernised," the woman informed, moving to an old wooden door, with wood chipping off in layers at places. It was slightly ajar and I could see only darkness on the other side. She opened the panes wider and clicked her fingers. Immediately torches lit up in the dark, showing a set of steep stairs melting into the dark. "Welcome to my humble home."

Her beaded necklace and chunky earrings jingled as she shuffled down the steps. Mrithun beckoned for me to follow as he came last, closing and locking the wooden door after him.

"It's really so kind of you to let us stay, Holika," Mrithun said, over my shoulders.

"Holika?" I stopped moving suddenly, resulting in Mrithun bumping into me.

"Tora..." he accused.

"Yes, I'm Holika." The woman turned back and gave a toothy grin again, "You must have heard about me, right?"

I just nodded. Mrithun nudged me to keep on climbing down.

"Rakshashi (demoness) Holika, ha ha." Her laughter reverberated through the earthen walls.

"But how are you..."

"Alive?" She cackled. "Because Mrithun here didn't take me when I pleaded with him."

"But you..."

"Plotted to kill my nephew? Oh please!" she scoffed. "There is no one in this world who loved that lad more than me and still does. But I, of all people, can't see him because of that stupid brother of me, who is now dead."

I looked at Mrithun.

"Ask her only," he mouthed.

"I'm sorry to hear about all this. But what happened actually?" I asked.

"I was sleeping beside Prahlad, peacefully like every day. Poor boy didn't have parents, so he used to stay with me," she began, starting to climb down again. "That night I was woken up by the smell of cloth burning. And when I opened my eyes, the sheets, the curtains, the entire room was on fire. That idiotic brother of me had set me on fire too, just because I had refused to entertain his plans to kill the lad."

"But don't you have a boon or something that fire can't touch you?" I asked.

"Those are all made up stories by the ones who tried to cover up the incident later. I had no such boon. That fire would've killed me had he..." She gave a quick glance at Mrithun. He nodded back.

"It was all a plot, Tora. The ones sitting on their heavenly thrones didn't verify the wrong information they got from their source. So they made Prahlad immune to the fire and let Holika burn," Mrithun informed.

"Leaving me scarred, defaced and ugly for life," she spat, taking the last few stairs two at a time. And we were standing in a huge hall, artfully decorated with beautiful paintings and calligraphies on all walls.

"Beauty is inside your heart always, that's what I say. And external beauty is never a yardstick to measure your worth, Holika," I said finally, quite shaken from the entire narrative. How many such lies had we been fed, centuries after centuries?

"Thank you," she breathed. "Being a woman, the fact that you understand this is a big deal. Women seem to be always so focused on their looks and external beautification. And half of them have rotten hearts."

"I beg to differ," I piped up, "It's all about perspectives. You can't generalize women..."

Mrithun shot me a warning glare, which clearly meant 'no need to get too cosy or personal'. It was a genuine concern though. The more I talked, the more I might slip and reveal something I was not supposed to. I bit my lip and stopped.

Holika didn't seem to notice this little exchange.

"True that." She shrugged, placing her hands on her hips, surveying the surroundings.

"We have two rooms here, so would you like to stay with me..."

"I think it's best if she stays with me in the other room," Mrithun interjected.

Holika raised an eyebrow at him. Even I was surprised.

"It's her choice you know." She narrowed her eyes at him, turning her gaze to me, waiting expectantly.

Mrithun widened his eyes from behind her, looking straight at me. It was a choice. Did I want to spend a night alone with a guy, whom I knew, or with a stranger demoness just because she was a female?

A quick check into the pros and cons made me realise, a guy or not, I would always be safer around Mrithun, than a demoness, however good she might seem.

"It's fine, Holika," I breathed, looking straight at Mrithun, holding his gaze. "I trust him."

A small, knowing smile lit up on her face. "Oh I see," she replied.

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Author's Note: I made my own interpretation of the age old Mythology and these twists to the tales are not to hurt anyone's beliefs.

Mythology Reference

Holika- According to Indian mythology, Holika was the sister of demon king, Hiranyakashyap. His orphaned nephew, Prahlad used to stay with them. Prahlad was a devotee of Lord Vishnu, whom Hiranyakashyap loathed. To prove to Prahlad that Vishnu won't come to his help in danger, he plans to set Prahlad on fire. Holika was supposed to be immune to the flames. So she took Prahlad on her lap and sat on a pyre. But Lord Vishnu heard his pleas and Prahlad emerged unscathed but Holika, was destroyed.
Since then, Indians celebrate Holi - the festival of colours - to mark the occasion of victory of good over evil.

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