"Baandi"

~ Author ~

Mumbai, India

The October evening settled in with a chill that clung to the air, each gust of wind carrying a subtle bite. The moon hung low and full, casting a faint silvery hue across the darkened cityscape, and a light drizzle had started, turning the streets slick and shimmering beneath the occasional glow of streetlights. Inside, warmth battled the cold creeping through the window cracks, but a strange tension seemed to mute even that comfort.

Kabir looked across the dinner table at Meher, her fork idly poking at the pasta on her plate, her eyes distant. She hadn't said much since she got home. The normally easy conversation between them was missing, leaving an unusual silence that he found himself increasingly restless to break.

"Why have you been so quiet this whole evening?" Kabir finally asked, trying to make his voice sound casual, though concern was laced in his tone.

Meher glanced up, her face unreadable for a moment, before she took a deep breath. "I wasn't sure how to bring this up," she began, choosing her words carefully, her voice barely louder than a whisper against the steady patter of rain against the windows.

Kabir set his fork down, his attention solely on her. "What is it?"

"Officer Mistry called me today with a request for a sting operation." She hesitated, watching his reaction carefully.

Kabir's brows knitted together immediately, a wave of tension tightening his shoulders. "A sting operation?" he repeated slowly as if trying to make sense of what he'd just heard. "Meher, why would she ask you to do something like that?"

"She thinks I can get closer to some of the people involved in the case," Meher said, her voice steady. "There's a network of people who are connected to the brothel ring. She wants me to infiltrate one of these groups and gather information."

Kabir's jaw tightened. "So, she wants you to risk your life for the case? What about police officers trained for this? Why you?"

"I'm the right fit, Kabir," she replied, meeting his gaze, her voice firm but low. "It's my choice. And she assured me I'd have complete protection. It's a one-time task with the potential to reveal a lot."

Kabir's expression darkened, a storm brewing behind his eyes. "Meher, I don't care what kind of protection they're offering you. This isn't a small favour; this is serious, life-threatening work. There are so many ways this could go wrong." His voice took on an edge. "And they shouldn't be asking you to do it."

"Kabir," she said, her tone softened but unwavering. "I know it sounds dangerous, but this case has affected so many people, and I want to help. I've been involved for so long. I feel like I can make a real difference here. I am not doing it for the greater good, it is personal."

Kabir's hand clenched on the table, and he shook his head slowly. "No, Meher. I'm not okay with this. This isn't just about helping out; it's putting yourself in the middle of something that could destroy you. You've already done so much. Let the police handle this. And what is it with you suddenly going all Sherlock Holmes? There are boundaries to every job, let the right experts do the work."

The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock in the hallway. Outside, the rain began to fall harder, rattling against the windows with a relentless rhythm. Meher's gaze didn't waver, her face set in quiet determination.

"You're not hearing me, Kabir," she said finally, her voice barely a murmur. "I'm doing this, with or without your approval."

A flash of hurt crossed Kabir's face, his hands dropping to his sides, and he let out a sharp breath. "So, you're just going to ignore my concerns? You're going to walk into this without thinking about what it'll do to everyone who cares about you?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her eyes softened momentarily. "I am thinking about you, Kabir, more than you know. But I also can't turn my back on this."

Kabir looked away, jaw clenched tightly as if grappling with the frustration and helplessness rising within him. The rain outside seemed to intensify, its steady rhythm now a dull roar in the background, underscoring the turmoil inside. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with words left unsaid, each of them retreating into their thoughts, steeling themselves.

"This is too much, Meher," he said finally, his voice strained. "I know you want to help, and I admire that, but there's a line. And this crosses it."

She exhaled slowly, her eyes drifting away. "You know, Kabir, this isn't easy for me either. I wouldn't just do this on a whim. I've thought it through and weighed everything. It's not like I don't feel the fear or understand the risk."

He shook his head in frustration, his gaze piercing as he stared her down. "But you're still going to do it. You're choosing this over us?" His voice softened, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

Her face softened, and she reached across the table, her fingers brushing his hand, but he didn't take it. "Kabir, it's not about choosing between you and this. I have to do this because it's the right thing. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try to stop them."

Kabir pulled his hand away, his gaze distant and hurt. "And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Did you think of that?"

The words struck her hard, her eyes filling with a mixture of guilt and frustration. She stood, feeling the tension in her body as she crossed to the window, her gaze fixed on the rain-soaked night outside, her reflection staring back at her, face pale and sombre.

The seconds ticked by, and the only sound in the room was the relentless patter of rain, filling the empty space between them. The silence was suffocating, a chasm growing wider with each passing heartbeat.

Kabir finally stood, pushing his chair back with a scrape that echoed through the room. "You know what, Meher? Do whatever you want. I won't stand in your way. But don't expect me to be here waiting when you come back."

She flinched at his words, the finality of them hitting her like a blow. But she forced herself to stay calm, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to surface. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Kabir," she replied, her voice steady though her heart pounded painfully in her chest.

He glanced at her one last time, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, pain, and something unspoken, before he turned and walked out of the room. His footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of the door closing behind him, leaving Meher alone in the heavy silence.

Outside, the storm had intensified, thunder rumbling in the distance, and lightning occasionally flashing across the sky. Meher stared out the window, watching the raindrops blur the world outside, feeling the ache of their unresolved fight weighed heavily on her.

Her decision was made, but as the night stretched on, the chill of both the October weather and Kabir's words seeped into her bones, leaving her feeling more alone and uncertain than she'd ever felt before.

*   *   *

The following day, Meher stood outside the dimly lit precinct, her stomach a knot of nervous tension. It was a new morning, yet the weight of the previous night's fight with Kabir lay heavily on her mind.

The memory of their argument replayed in her mind, his worried words about her safety and her own stubborn retorts rising and falling like waves, crashing relentlessly against her determination. She'd chosen this, and she couldn't turn back now, even if the path felt increasingly treacherous. Gathering herself, she took a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling her lungs and bringing a shiver to her spine as she pushed open the precinct door.

Inside, Officer Mistry was waiting in a small, windowless room. The walls were plastered with maps, photographs, and various details related to other ongoing undercover operations, casting a grim shadow over Meher's mission. She could smell burnt coffee and the slight tang of cigarettes, mingling with the faint scent of old paper and leather. Officer Mistry looked up as Meher entered, her gaze serious, her usual warmth absent, replaced by a sharp, professional resolve.

"Good morning, Meher," she greeted, gesturing toward the worn leather chair across from her. "I know this wasn't an easy decision, but I appreciate your courage." The praise felt like a double-edged sword; every reminder of what she was undertaking filled her with pride, but also dread.

"But, I have a question." Meher asks her.

"Go on,"

"Why isn't someone from the police going into this sting operation?"

Ashna sighed aloud. "We have tried a few times already, Meher. But every time, the police have tried to raid or investigate, the brothel gets tipped off. Hence, we need completely someone from the outside who has no connection to the law enforcement to do this job."

Meher forced a tight smile, trying to project confidence. "It's well," she paused, "It's necessary, right?" she replied, her voice stronger than she felt inside.

Officer Mistry nodded approvingly, then leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table. "Let's get to work. You're not going in with this appearance," she pointed at Meher's current appearance, "It's too risky and recognisable. You will have to go through some serious makeover. So here's the breakdown. You'll be posing as a college student— young, naive, and unassuming. They must see you as someone who's easily manipulated. This sting is targeting a particular brothel we believe is part of a larger trafficking ring. It's overseen by a woman named Kavitha, just like Sunaina had mentioned— she's ruthless, with a reputation for sniffing out trouble."

She slid a small, discreet button camera and earpiece across the table. "This button will capture visuals, feeding them directly to our station. The earpiece will keep you in touch with us. We'll monitor everything and intervene if necessary." Her eyes met Meher's. "If things go south, I give you my word— we'll be there. You're not alone in this. And whatever you're recording, it gets automatically saved so don't worry about it if it gets taken away or gets destroyed in any case."

Meher's fingers trembled as she took the devices. She swallowed, reminding herself that fear was an emotion she had to master, not give in to. She focused on the weight of the button camera in her palm, grounding herself in the tangible, hoping it would steady her for what lay ahead.

A few hours later, Meher found herself in a simple jeans and t-shirt outfit, her hair loose and wavy to project a casual, youthful look. With the help of a makeup artist, her face was made to look tanned and her nose bridge was made to look higher. She even changed the colour of her hair. She covered her hazel eyes with dark lenses. All in all, she looked unrecognisable, pretty and naive.

She wandered a local college campus, her expression carefully innocent, and her body language hesitant. She willed herself to project a persona of someone naive to the harsh realities of the world.

It wasn't long before she felt eyes on her— a man in his thirties, shadowed under a tree, his gaze calculating and cold. He walked closer, pretending to be casual, but his eyes scanned her with a shrewd intensity that sent a chill down her spine. She could hear her heartbeat, loud and insistent, as she forced herself to appear oblivious.

The man sidled closer. "You look lost, sweetheart," he said, his voice oily and invasive. "New in town?"

Meher scoffed internally. Do people really fell for this shit? It was too obvious.

Meher bit her lip, feigning confusion, and nodded, glancing around nervously. "Yeah it's my first day, and I can't find my way around here," she replied, making her voice soft, and vulnerable.

As if.

He nodded slowly, flashing a sinister smile. "Why don't I show you around? I know a place where you'll feel right at home."

The next few moments were a blur. He motioned her toward a van parked nearby. Every instinct in her screamed to run, but she stayed in character, moving forward slowly until his hand clamped onto her arm, leading her toward the vehicle. They drove through the city, the lights and sounds fading as they reached a darker, more isolated area. Each twist and turn felt like it was sealing her fate, yet she reminded herself of her mission.

They finally arrived in front of a dilapidated building with faded paint and graffiti covering the walls. Her pulse quickened. This was it— the place Officer Mistry had described.

They pulled her out, her arm gripped tightly as they led her inside. The thick smell of incense and something sour pervaded the air, making her stomach churn. The narrow hallway was dimly lit, with walls painted a dark red that made the entire place feel oppressive and suffocating. She heard faint murmurs, cries, and music drifting down the hall, each sound carrying a hidden, terrible story.

One of the men forced her into a small room with a worn-out couch and an old, cracked mirror. "Stay here," he ordered, his voice carrying a harsh finality. She nodded, her face carefully blank, though her insides were churning with unease. She couldn't afford to let her fear show.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and a woman entered. She was exactly as Sunaina and Officer Mistry had described— middle-aged, with piercing eyes and a large, blood-red bindi on her forehead with a scar right above her eyebrow. Kavitha's face was an impenetrable mask of cruelty and shrewd calculation. She looked Meher up and down, her mouth twisting into a predatory smirk.

"So, you're the new girl," she said, her voice icy and dripping with disdain. "Didn't expect you to be so docile. Let's hope you keep that attitude."

Meher stayed silent, giving only a small, nervous nod. She felt her heart beating erratically, her mind racing as she took in every detail of the room and the woman before her. She reminded herself to breathe, to stay present, even as her fear clawed at her resolve.

"Wh— Where am I?" she whispered.

The lady laughed in sarcasm, then tutted, mock pitying the Meher. "Oh, dear," she stood in front of Meher and caressed her face. "Every new girl asks the same thing. Let some nights go and you will actually know what this place really is." Saying this, she left the room.

After Kavitha left, Meher scanned her surroundings carefully, her eyes searching for a way out. She saw a narrow staircase at the far end of the hallway, partially hidden behind a dusty curtain. Gathering her courage, she stepped out of the room and began making her way toward it, hoping to gather more footage of the place.

She moved quietly, her footsteps barely audible on the creaky floorboards. But just as she rounded a corner, she collided with a young girl, her face pale and frightened. The girl's eyes widened in surprise, and Meher immediately placed a finger to her lips, signalling her to stay quiet.

"I need to get out," the girl whispered desperately. "Please help me."

Meher's heart twisted, and she nodded, whispering back, "Stay with me. We'll find a way." But before they could move, a guard spotted them and yelled, drawing the attention of others nearby.

What happened after that was all a distant dream.

Rough hands grabbed Meher and the girl, dragging them down the hallway. She struggled, her heart pounding as she realized they were being taken back to the room. Kavitha was there, her expression livid, her eyes blazing with anger.

"You thought you could just waltz out of here?" she sneered. "Such bravery— well, you'll pay for it."

She reached for the button camera on Meher's shirt, her fingers closing around it. The moment she yanked it off, crushing it beneath her heel, Meher felt a surge of despair. Her link to the outside world, her last bit of connection to safety, was gone.

"I have seen a lot of undercovers in my entire life, you're no better," she slapped Meher and spat on her face. The harsh impact of the slap made Meher fall on the floor, the spit dripped down her cheeks.

The humiliation was unbearable. But she tried to maintain her calm as she was here for a bigger purpose.

Another guard reached into her bag, retrieving her earpiece and stomping on it. The small snap of the device breaking was deafening in the silence, signalling her complete isolation. Her heart sank further; she was now utterly alone, vulnerable, and at their mercy.

Kavitha leaned in close, her voice low and menacing. "Tonight, you'll entertain your first client," she whispered, her breath cold against Meher's ear. "Let's see if you're as defiant after that."

The guards shoved her roughly into a small, windowless room, slamming the door shut with a finality that echoed in her mind. She was trapped, her pulse racing as she faced the silent darkness surrounding her.

Alone in the dim, stifling room, Meher sank to the floor, her breathing uneven and ragged. Every second felt longer than the last as the shadows seemed to press in on her, intensifying her isolation.

She tried to focus, tried to calm herself, but her mind raced, each thought more panicked than the last. Her heart thudded in her chest like it was trying to break free, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to think clearly. She'd prepared for this mission, yet nothing had readied her for the sheer weight of the fear she felt now. This was no longer an operation with safety nets and backup. This was real, raw terror, and she was alone, cut off from any help.

The image of Kabir flashed across her mind, his face drawn with concern the night before as he pleaded with her to reconsider. She remembered the way he'd looked at her, his eyes searching hers, his voice low, laced with an urgency she hadn't taken seriously at the time. She could still hear his words echoing in her mind:

And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you. Did you think of that?

But she hadn't listened.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt the weight of regret settle over her, tightening around her chest. Why had she been so stubborn, so unyielding? She'd told herself this was about justice, about making things right, about taking control of a world where so much was wrong. But at this moment, all she wanted was the comfort of Kabir's voice, the reassurance that he was nearby, ready to protect her.

Her breath hitched as she remembered the little details of their last evening together— the way he'd held her hand, trying to convey a thousand unspoken words through that small gesture. She clung to the memory, desperate for a sense of connection, for something to ground her in the face of overwhelming helplessness.

A sudden noise broke her thoughts, a shuffling outside the door that made her heart stop. She froze, listening intently, her body tensed and alert. She prayed they wouldn't come in, that she'd have a few more moments alone to gather her strength. But the sound faded, leaving her in the suffocating silence once more. She exhaled shakily, trying to steady herself.

As her mind wandered back to Kabir, she recalled all the times he'd been her rock, her constant. His strength had always been a quiet one, never overpowering but always there, solid and dependable. Now, separated from him by walls and locked doors, she felt that strength more acutely, the void of his absence intensifying her longing. Her fingers instinctively reached up to the spot where he'd last touched her cheek, his warmth a lingering memory against her cold, trembling skin.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she fought them back, feeling the walls of the room closing in on her. Crying would do nothing here; weakness had no place in this situation. She took a shaky breath and tried to focus on Kabir's voice, remembering the steady way he'd speak to her during hard times, his calm unwavering even when the world felt chaotic. He would tell her to stay calm, to think logically, to breathe deeply and not let the panic take control.

Clinging to his imagined words, she forced herself to breathe, inhaling and exhaling slowly. She counted each breath, using the rhythm to quell the storm raging inside her. And with each breath, she reminded herself why she was here, why she'd chosen this path. Kabir had wanted to keep her safe, to protect her from this darkness, but she knew deep down that she couldn't have turned her back on this mission. She was here because she believed in something. After all, some people needed her to be brave. People who didn't have anyone fighting for them.

And also it was about time she did something for those she loved and who were gone.

The tears slipped down her cheeks despite her resolve, each one a silent acknowledgement of her fear, her desperation, and her yearning for Kabir. Her hand pressed to her heart, hoping to conjure his presence through sheer willpower.

In the quiet of her mind, she imagined Kabir was with her, his hand slipping into hers, his reassuring grip steady and strong. She could almost hear his voice, calm and soothing, urging her to hold on, to remember her strength. And with that thought, she found a renewed sense of purpose. She wasn't completely alone; she carried a part of him with her, his belief in her abilities and his love lending her courage.

Wiping her tears, she steadied herself, reminding herself that she had a job to do and that many lives were counting on her. She straightened her shoulders, bracing herself for whatever lay ahead. She would find a way through this. For herself. For Kabir. For everyone, she was here to protect.

She was here for a purpose and she wasn't getting out of this place before she had her hands on some kind of evidence.

And as she heard the distant sound of footsteps approaching once more, she held onto that thought, allowing it to be her anchor in the looming darkness.

Update streak number 4! I think this is too much for this week, lol. Meher was trapped in the brothel, just like Kabir had predicted. What do you think will happen next?

Is the pace too fast now that you received 4 updates back to back? Let me know your thoughts on this so that I can work on it.

Today, I went out with my friend after a long time. I had a lot of fun!

Do VOTE, SHARE and COMMENT. Comment a heart if you enjoyed reading the chapter.

With Love,

Akii.