Ahalya, Day 19

What I named panic-digging began minutes after I had seen the body. In my head, I was already running on the muddy road, running for my life. But as I had put the idea into motion and pressed myself in the mud to manoeuvre under the fence, the sharp end of the iron thread caught my left nipple. It hurt like hell; like being bit by a demon baby while breastfeeding.

I had to dig deeper. I cupped my hands and shoved the wet mud away. Then I made paws and dug again so that my nipple and I would get out in one part. Guilt beseeched me to go back inside, to stop running. At the same time, my fear won a new motto. I preferred not to end up as Bhanu. How hard could it be? I would get on the muddy road, limp until the village and tell someone what kind of devil my mother-in-law was. I would be alive. Literally.

The moonlight shifted into the further parts of the garden. My body was shivering as if it had post-shock distress. The crickets croaked here and there. I thought I saw a firefly, but not it. Mud slipped off my hands now and then. But I ignored all the signs. Wind still howled, becoming meaner as the night went. They could show up anytime. I based my survival on the hair on the back of my neck, turning every time I felt something bad and it was happening more often than I hoped. I drank some water from that motor.

I was ready to escape. When the hole seemed deep enough, I stopped. I used my legs to kick all the piled-up mud behind.

Won't you come for me? Vishwa's voice echoed in my head.

I can't, I told myself. I really can't.

The silence and the self-talk reminded me of the time I picked a premarital counselling questionnaire online to check the intimacy of our relationship.

What is your partner's favourite TV show?

The Sopranos.

What is your partner's favourite side of the bed?

Wherever I'm sleeping.

What is your partner currently sad about?

My mental health.

What is your partner's worst childhood experience?

The knowledge of his father's death.

What food does your partner hate?

Anything that's prepared by me.

I had answered eighty questions in half an hour and Vishwa laughed all the time, as we cuddled in a single chair under a single blanket.

Once the hole had settled, I lay down, exhaled and veered under the fence, using the shoulder movement. I remembered Vishwa and tears rolled on their own. He kissed another woman and that could be the last memory I would ever have of him. I would get help, but the situation turned dire. Yamuna didn't seem like the forgiving type. I had seen pitless anger in her eyes when she was glaring at me.

I plastered my shirt to my body, ducking under the iron wire. Everything was going to be okay. I almost made it, telling myself I might get help. I was checking my chest when a hand grabbed my hair.

"Going somewhere, monkey," whispered the doctor.

Too late to even wiggle since my limbs could end up on the wire. I screamed and let the doctor pull me out. And he single-handedly hoisted me upwards, again. His fingers were deep in my hair, scratching my skull. He was giggling, and I used the space to kick him in the face with my leg. He dropped me, and I shook like an insect tripped off a spider's web.

Instead of running away, I crawled between his legs and slipped into the garden, panting like an aged bull. I doubted if he was luring me right into Yamuna's hands. So, I went mad with my options, dashing in all directions. I followed the tree trunks and the path they bent or grew towards.

My eyes watered in fatigue. I halted near a tree, squeezing myself behind its trunk. The begging for life began automatically: I don't want to die. I don't want to die. Please, god, let me live. I'll get help. I promise. I'll come back.

***

Every light in the house lit up. From the neon light in the Yamuna's bedroom to the dim yellow bulb above the mixer in the kitchen, everything came to life. Trees waved hello to the house. And like a circus had opened, the wind became the audience, roaring and hissing, for this sudden illumination. A golden halo spread across the garden, competing with the moonlight.

It scared Ahalya, who had just found a spot to hide. Yamuna was outside the back door, wondering if the doctor had gone mad with the switches instead of finding Ahalya. Whereas the doctor thought Yamuna was planning a dramatic epilogue.

They were all wrong. They didn't know yet. An intimidating silence streamed into the night, sending a ripple of heartbeats all over the place.

***

I risked a glance over my shoulder. No one. The doctor kept calling me monkey and some other phrases, which helped me hide from his sound.

What were my options? A fence enclosed the house. Wherever I end up, I would've to dig a hole. And the grinning monster might arrive, dragging me in.

I tended my head, flinching every time my hand passed the place where his fingers scraped my skull. To my left, I heard a crunch of leaves and turned. Again, no one. Panic spurred me. Grasping my shirt near the heart, I decided to run to the gate; no stops anywhere, even if I get struck by a stick or a hammer. Otherwise, I could kiss the light of the day goodbye.

With one glance at the house and another into the dark ahead, figuring out any shapes, I bent into position. I breathed in and raced to the gate in the compound wall.

I mapped out the tree trunks in the lights of the house and avoided them. My heels landed hard against the mud, leaving deeper prints. In a strange slow motion, my eyes scanned for the doctor or a hammer. Few more feet. I was counting. Nine more. Eight. They had kept the gate open, and the clean exit enticed me. Seven. Six. I would come back. For both of them. Five. Four.

At three, my feet burrowed into the mud, forcing me to a stop.

At one, I froze. The view stole my breath. On the tree between the gate and the compound wall, a body hung from one of its branches.

Vasu.

He had his neck bent and crammed into his chest. The rope was invisible with the tree in the background. It was almost like he had been suspended free in the air. No part of me wished to run. I tasted despair in my mouth. Who would I come back for anymore? I didn't move or avert my eyes. I needed to see him dead.

I recalled the images of him opening the door for the first time and making remarks at Vishwa.

'Just eat some curd rice and sleep.'

'I'm waiting for this stupid rain to end.'

'You see, the guts of teenagers are very strong and influential.'

His voice took turns scorching me inside out. I held my head between my hands to cancel it, though that didn't help. Not a tear decked my swollen cheek. I remained dumbstruck. A part of me was expecting a blow soon. I didn't care. My mother's corpse, which I'd refused to set my eyes upon for more than a minute, was cleaner. The relatives had put her in good clothes and wept around her. Now, this barely legal boy was stripped half naked and left swinging in the cold. With his smartness, he could choose to haunt this place beyond forever.

'You can't postpone when people you love are hurting.'

A smile crept on my face. He would have been a fine human if lived. Brains, beauty and care are a great package for any teenager. All he ever wanted was to find his sister safe and sound. Not a hope more. Not a wish less.

"Oh monkey," came the doctor's voice. "I know you'll stop if you see him."

I said nothing. He stood beside me, but I didn't turn; I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Rage crossed over with prickles on my skin. My eyes stayed on this precious boy, the only human being who ever believed in me.

"Ever since I saw you running to him in the rain, I figured out your soft spot for him."

He laughed for a minute and spared me no more words. Then, he caught me like I was a little lamb and threw me to the earth. From below, I saw the hammer stirring in his hand. I might as well be the sacrifice to the goddess. He arched his leg back in the air and aimed at my stomach. It came whistling, and the kick battered the air out of me. But my eyes were on Vasu.

I ground his name between my teeth. Vasu. Vasu. Vasu.

The doctor kicked again, and I curled like a worm. The pain was everywhere. He picked me up and threw me again. Like a ping-pong ball, my face bounced between the mud and his grip. My nerves yelled in pain and my brain was confused to tell which part of my body was hurt.

Still, I couldn't stop staring at Vasu.

A kick to the jaw and I thought my teeth flew out. Blood trickled out of my mouth, and I moaned with a coppery taste on my tongue.

Vasu had an impasse expression on him. He faced the earth, shy of dying so early. My ankle struggled in the doctor's grip. Pain and a cramp co-visited and I squealed. With one simple drag, he flung me at a tree trunk. I feared my back had broken from the impact. I even lacked the strength to form a fist.

Then his laugh turned louder. He was enjoying killing me. However, Vasu hung like a good boy. He always had been a good boy. I failed him. A bad friend. I failed Vishwa if he was ever a victim. A bad girlfriend. I failed my brother when my mother died. A bad sister. If Yamuna could poll, I would be a bad daughter-in-law too.

What did I have to lose? At this point: no one. So, I decided not to go alone. I had enough. I would die. The least I had to do was avenge whoever I could.

The doctor's hands clutched my neck and lifted me into the air. Based on his facial expressions and the raising angle, he might have been planning to bash my head against the tree.

What do I have to lose? I repeated to myself.

Midway in the air, I pulled all my strength and coiled my legs around his waist. He jerked backwards for the comeback and tried to squirm his way out. His hammer fell as both of his hands grabbed my hair.

I spiralled around him like a snake, straightened two fingers and stabbed in his right eye. All the way through.

His ululation sounded new in the night. I fell to the ground, and he lingered, shrieking and wheezing, holding his face. His crude voice lulled in my ears. I saw the blood dripping from between his fingers. In the dark, it seemed blacker.

"I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you, monkey." He charged forward blindly.

I rolled on the earth and took the hammer. I tried lifting it, but it was too heavy for me. So, I shifted and charged at his legs with all my weight. His knees gave up, and he fell sidewards. Then I crawled back and dragged the hammer to him. I kept it near the back of his skull, where he swayed in the mud in pain. The head of the hammer was on the ground and the handle faced the sky. Arching my leg backwards, I kicked its head with my heel. It moved a little, but the iron caused its impact.

He yelled. That was my confirmation for hitting him right. I drew the hammer back and thrust it forward again. His hands wavered like his cries, confused to hold either the eye or the head. I bludgeoned him until he spared no movement. When his blood finally wetted the mud, I stopped. My strength began waning, and I squatted, holding the hammer. My forehead rested against its wooden handle and my skin hugged its warm surface. Vasu's body still hung above and I refused to see him anymore.

The morning was an hour or two away. The relentless breeze blackmailed me with a drizzle. I didn't wail this time. I believed I was going to faint anytime now. And so I cried as my bleeding chin quivered. More or less, these tears were personal.