Devi

by Nag Mani

  “No, you are not!” Bhagvati said with authority.

  “It is important. Zoya is in danger. If there is something that can be done, it must.”

  “No, you are not,” Bhagvati repeated, “because she is not going to listen to you. You will give her more reasons not to go to the tree.”

  “But Zoya…”

  “You will not! Let me go instead. Let me talk to her. You stay here. Wait for me.” With that, Bhagvati stepped down the veranda. Bachcha emerged from the corn plants and followed her.

  “What should I cook for dinner, Didi?” said a soft voice from behind.

  Aditi turned around to face Payal. She was somewhat pretty. Her hair fell to her waist. Thick and lustrous. “Anything you like,” she replied with a smile. They were going to get along well, she thought; a sweet little sister she had always wanted. Then, with the little energy she had left, she went about packing her belongings. She would be leaving the next day, after all this dark magic had been taken care of. She would see if the river could be crossed and whether the roads beyond were flooded. It would not be that difficult with Bhagvati and Payal with her. At the very least, she could go to Bhagvati’s sister and seek shelter for a few days. And as for Manoj… let her go to Purnia first… let her talk to the officers’ association…

  Bhagvati returned an hour later to tell her that Razzak had planned to leave the village with his wife and daughter. “He is waiting for a way out,” she said, “and he said he might go down south. Some ten-twelve kilometres from here there is a village, Sikti, but the connecting road is all puddles and holes. Very tricky. He has a relative there. From there, if the conditions are good, he can go to Purnia and then Naugachia, you know, his wife Laila is from there.”

  “And that black magic that Arvind’s mother talked of?”

  Bhagvati lowered her head. “Doesn’t want to meddle with these things, lest something worse happens. And I will tell you what my son, you don’t go around meddling either. You don’t know the woman, or the mohalla she comes from. They are shady people. For all I know she wants to lure someone there for reasons only she knows.”

  Aditi didn’t argue, as it was that her strength was weaning. She closed the suitcase she was packing and sat still on the bed. Her wounded wrist began to throb.

  “But there is something I want to tell you,” Bhagvati continued. “Something happened in this village this evening. I can sense it. And those policemen, they are not keeping a watch on Laila’s house. They are keeping on ours.”

  “Why?”

  “They will not tell. I think it’s that inspector. But don’t worry about that. We will leave tomorrow. The three of us. We will go to Purnia. We will stay with you till you are better.”

  “But will they allow us to travel with them?”

  “Who said we need them? Don’t underestimate this old woman, son! Why go west to this flooded Forbesganj. We can go east, to my sister’s place in Deepnagar. Bahadurganj is not far from there. Once we are in Bahadurganj, we can go to Araria, or directly to Purnia. You go to sleep now. I will take care of the rest of the packing.”

  *

  It was as if an alarm had gone off. Aditi’s eyes darted to the clock. 6 o’ clock. Bhagvati was still sleeping, legs sprawled. Her sari had come loose around her waist, revealing a dirty cream coloured petticoat. Looking around the house, Aditi found Payal in the toilet. She had thought about it a lot through the night, but now that she was alone, the impulse to do it had never been stronger. She went out in the veranda. The sun was creeping up through the maize plants. They had grown taller than her by now, coarse, brown filaments erupting from their tops. An empty cot lay in front of Razzak’s house. The constables must have left.

  Aditi stepped down and headed for the trees. Her forehead was burning with fever. Her back ached. But she had to know what was happening. And who was doing it. Bachcha emerged from somewhere and followed her. She would find the tree and then find what was inside it. She would take whatever it was to Laila and show her. And god forbade whosoever put it there. Was there a way to find out? There must be. But first she had to find the tree. She walked briskly in the cold morning along the path she had once taken to the bank. The ground was wet. The trunks and leaves were glistening.

  By the time she reached the junction where she had seen Arvind, her throat was dry. Drops of sweat were trickling down behind her ears. Bachcha was still behind her, sniffing anything he could lay his nose on. The path to the left… it cut its way through trunks and wild bushes. She clenched her fists and took a step forward. Bachcha stayed back at the junction, ears raised, alert, looking at her questioningly. Aditi began to follow the path. It was barely visible. Most of the bricks had dislodged or crumbled. Yet it was there. A mere trace on the ground where it used to be. Bachcha began to whimper. He circled the junction impatiently, never taking his eyes off her. He dug the ground with his paws. Then he gave a bark.

  “Go back!” Aditi shouted at him, her voice shaking. And how she wanted him to follow…

  Bachcha stayed. Aditi hurled a stone towards him. But he wouldn’t leave. He sat there, at that junction, whimpering, worried, as Aditi continued down the path. He had still not gone out of sight when something else caught her attention. Far to her left, where the trunks were lighter, somewhere closer to the river, Aditi saw someone walking, wandering rather. It was a man, his back towards her. He seemed oblivious to his environment, walking, staggering, lost. Aditi was about to call out to him when someone whispered above her. She looked up to see a piece of tattered sari hanging from a branch. She raised her hands in terror, as if it was going to fall on her and strangle her. But it stayed there, swaying in a breeze only it could feel. Aditi hurried away from under it.

  The man… he was still wandering… wandering… Aditi lifted a hand. Took in a deep breath to call for him… but then he disappeared into thin air!

  She let out a shriek.

  She turned to flee, but her knees buckled and she fell. She sprang to her fours, her breaths coming out in wheezes. No! She could not return. Not yet. She took a deep breath as she stood. Paused a moment. Tucked her hair behind her ears. Then she continued. Her head hung low, eyes on the path. Un-hearing. Un-seeing.

  She did not know how far she had come when the path ended at a puddle filled with murky water. It must have been knee deep. She raised her eyes as she tried to circle around it. And then she caught a glimpse… it was close by, standing next to a trunk. Quiet. Still.

  The man in rags… he was watching her!

  Aditi broke into a run. There were movements. Something was moving swiftly through some bushes. Coming towards her. She turned around to see. Nothing. She lost her balance and fell again. And then emerged from the bushes something small and fast…

  “Bachcha!” Aditi yelled with relief as the dog came whimpering towards her, ears pulled low, tails between his legs, looking around in terror. She patted him and rose. The man had disappeared again. She could hear the gushing of the river. She was almost there…

  Not far ahead, she saw the clearing. Something whispered again, above her. Then there was a giggle. A woman’s laughter. Curiosity made Aditi look up… almost… she lowered her gaze immediately. Hadn’t Arvind’s mother warned her about looking directly at their faces? Bachcha cowered behind her. A group of men began to talk angrily somewhere close by. Someone said something. Then they all burst out laughing.

  Aditi kept her eyes fixed on the clearing. Bachcha followed. She was aware of something else following her from above, moving from tree to tree. It began to whisper again. It was saying something to her. Aditi listened. It was a crude, insulting poetry mocking her. A child began to cry and the whispers stopped abruptly. Aditi felt a weight lift from above.

  She caught a glimpse of the old tree in the clearing. She inhaled deeply, preparing herself to face the abode of all the whispering and stalking.

  The foliage above gave way to the early morning sky and in front of her rose the ancient mango tree. She
had taken a moment to summon courage for what she was going to face, but never had she imagined it would be like this. She stepped into the clearing and her knees collapsed with fear. The tree was so… massive… ferocious… evil… The branches were dark and gnarled. Red resin oozed out from the thick bark of the trunk. The foliage was impenetrable. It seemed to be holding some sort of darkness within. The roots burst out of the soil and slithered outwards like giant snakes before diving in again. Kneeling on the periphery of the clearing, Aditi imagined the many spirits living on the tree. She almost saw their faces peeing down at her.

  Bachcha yelped. Crouching low, he ran across the clearing and looked back for her to follow. Trembling with fear, almost weeping, Aditi rose to her feet and stepped under the branches. Coldness engulfed her. She spotted a charred mark in front of the trunk. Patches of blood. There was a rose plant blossoming under the branches. Blossoming, despite the lack of sunlight. She noticed withering ends of three stems where a flower had been plucked. She went closer and studied the tree. Something was sticking out from the roots at the base of the trunk – a leg of a white goat.

  A sudden dread crept into her heart. There was a wave of weakness and her knees began to wobble again. She heard whispers in the foliage above. She tried to focus on the trunk, its rough texture, the many burls that erupted from the bark, the trails of raisin flowing from unnatural cuts. Slowly, she went around the trunk, and there, a foot above her head, was a gaping cavity. She raised her hand, then dropped it immediately. She tried again, but withdrew the moment her fingers touched the bark. She stepped closer, sobbing now, her eyes on her feet. She almost heard-felt-sensed a rhythmic beat coming from the tree. She shut her eyes and on the third attempt, finally forced herself to put her hand inside. Her fingers crawled their way in, feeling for anything un-woody. The cavity was warm, moist, alive. Her hand went deeper. And just when she was about to give up, she felt something…

  She pulled it out.

  A piece of red cloth! Tied in a bundle. It was stained with blood and vermillion. She stepped away from the tree and as if her senses had heightened, all of a sudden, she began to hear the sounds around her. The whispers. The scuffling. And from these came a distant bark. Bachcha had still not left. He was lurking on the other side of the clearing, hidden behind a tall datura plant. Aditi had not taken more than a couple of steps when a voice above her called out, “Aunty?”

  She stopped dead on her track. She knew the voice only too well. It brought along the memory of a boy in school uniform sobbing under a tree. She felt the branches above her descend, enclosing around her. On the periphery of her vision, she saw shapes rise from the ground. The baby began to howl again. The men hooted and laughed.

  “Aunty?”

  Aditi began to cry. Whatever strength she had left, seemed to drain out of her. She fell to the ground, under the bewitching canopy of the tree. She caught its glimpse before she shut her eyes. The many leaves. The many branches. The many faces.

  She felt cold. She had run out of happiness. Run out of will. She wanted to lie there. It was far more comforting than struggling. Far more rewarding. She wanted to lie there till her heart turned cold. Till her skin fell apart and her muscles decayed. She wanted to lie there till worms rose from the ground and ate her. She wanted to lie there till her bones crumpled and mixed with the soil. She wanted to lie there, under the shade of the tree, for eternity.

  She heard another bark, and some sort of spell seemed to lift. Bachcha was barking furiously now, urging her to join him. She had to get away, the thought came rushing into her head. Find Arvind’s mother. She rose to her feet and staggered towards the dog.

  “Aunty?” the voice called back, icy and piercing.

  “Aunty, please!” another voice, also familiar, joined the chorus.

  Bachcha disappeared behind some bushes when she came closer. She followed him through a dense undergrowth, the red bundle clutched firmly in her hand. After a short blur of green, she found herself on another path. This road was raised. The mango trees on either side gave way to bamboo and ferns. The sound of rushing water drew nearer. She followed Bachcha as he led her through the path. She didn’t dare look back.

  The river appeared on her left. She caught glimpses of the brown water, the broken iron bridge. She was gasping, her face glistening with sweat. She bent low to catch her breath. Bachcha ran back, hopping around her impatiently. She started again and as she did, she untied the bundle. The first thing that appeared was a tuft of reddish-brown hair, flakes of dry blood lodged in between…

  “Aunty?” Zeenat called out to her.

  This time, she turned.

  CHAPTER 17

  THE CONSPIRACY

  By the time Payal made her a cup of tea, Bhagvati had begun to doubt Aditi was in their neighbour’s house. She had her bags packed, ready to move if and when the situation demanded. She kept going to the veranda, waiting for Aditi to return. The sun came up over the tree tops. Farmers began to trudge their way to their farms, spades and axes slung over their shoulders. It was still early morning when a police jeep came to a halt on the main road and the inspector hopped down.

  “I have to talk to Madam,” he demanded as soon as he reached her house.

  “She is not here…” said Bhagvati, rather uncertainly.

  “Where is she then?” The inspector seemed alarmed.

  “She said she was going to see Laila, in the morning…”

  One of the constables went to check in Laila’s house. He returned a moment later, his hand raised, shaking his palm.

  Bhagvati let out a sigh. Damn this young blood! She now knew exactly where Aditi was. And she hadn’t returned. “I think she went to the forest then! Yes, she must have gone into the forest. You have to do something.”

  “Forest? When?”

  “In the morning. I was sleeping! Curse this old woman!”

  “What the hell is she doing in the forest? And what was wrong with that woman! Why the hell she couldn’t keep her nose out of things. You saw her in the morning, didn’t you?” he asked.

  Bhagvati looked at her daughter, who was hidden behind the curtain. “I only heard her voice,” Payal replied, her voice heavy, “I was in the… I was in there.”

  Just then an old, battered auto-rickshaw stopped beside the jeep and Arvind got down from the front seat, a brown bag in his hands. He talked to someone in the passenger seat, and moments later, Manoj stepped out. He looked around, and seeing the police in front of his house, his posture straightened. Aditi came out from the other side of the rickshaw, her head hung low.

  “Where were you, Mrs Prasad?” the inspector asked as Aditi walked briskly down the road. She ignored him and went straight to her room, followed by Bhagvati. Manoj maintained a rather slow pace, walking behind Arvind, analysing the scene. “And Mr Prasad, I see you are back from Purnia. I am Inspector Neeraj Mishra. I have been wanting to talk to you.” He offered his hand and Manoj shook it, rather cautiously.

  Arvind placed the bag on the cot in the hall and left. The men entered the house. Aditi was sitting on the bed, looking down at her feet. Her eyes were red. Bhagvati was patting her head, trying to get some words out of her. She had slung the curtain over the door so that the hall was in full view.

  “There is something going on here, Mr Prasad, and I am here to find out how much you are involved in it.” Inspector Mishra put his hands on his hips, not taking the chair Payal was offering to him.

  Colours drained from Manoj’s face. “What involvement?” his voice was still squeaky.

  “You girl, Payal?” Bhagvati shouted from the room, “What are you doing there in the hall? Leave the chair and go out. Clean the backyard.”

  The inspector waited for her to leave. He glanced at the constables and they too went to the front veranda and shut the door behind them. “There is a big conspiracy going on here. But let me start with asking why you went to Purnia? And don’t say you were called for a meeting. We have checked. Save us time by not rep
eating the lies you told your wife.”

  Manoj gulped and threw a glance towards Aditi. She continued to look down, her body trembling. “It is a family matter. Can’t I visit my house?” he replied.

  “Mr Prasad, your name has come up in a case. I am doing you a courtesy by asking you questions here. I can take you to the station if you want.”

  “I was not here when the Mukhiya died. You cannot drag me into this. I will call my seniors.”

  “Why are you buggering him, sahib,” Bhagvati pleaded from the room, “he has just come home…”

  “Why did you go to Purnia?” Inspector Mishra cut her off. “Answer me Mr Prasad!”

  Manoj was quiet for a moment. Then he blurted out, “My brother called me for help. A friend of his, actually. He said Ajay had picked up a fight with some goons and was arrested on false charges. And they were beating him in the station.”

  “So, you left your wife here because you didn’t want her to find out what your brother had been up to, is it?”

  “I left her because she was ill. That’s all! She had high fever, a sprained ankle. Vomiting. I couldn’t take her along. I already had so much to deal with.”

  “And was your brother arrested?”

  Another pause. Manoj hesitated before replying, “No.”

  “Good,” the inspector looked at the women in the room. Then he settled his belt and began to walk around the hall. “That sorts out one thing. It was very convenient of your brother to call you exactly when you needed to leave, wasn’t it? But let’s move on. How do you know Heera Lal Singh?”

  “He is the Mukhiya’s cousin. He took a loan from our bank.”