by Nag Mani
One day she came back from school and asked, “Mummy, what is an IAS officer?”
Aditi took some time to explain the work, social status and powers enjoyed by them. Her daughter didn’t mention anything about it after that.
Aradhana applied for Delhi University after 12th and chose to pursue Arts. Aditi grew restless. Her baby child would soon be flying away from her nest into the harsh, real world full of eagles and snakes. She knew boys would swarm her daughter like moths. What if someone shady took a fancy? What if someone did something? What if she chose the wrong friends? Aditi couldn’t sleep at nights. But there was nothing she could do. Her daughter had to go, explore the world and grow, even if it meant falling off the edge.
Aradhana put on fresh lipstick and admired herself in the mirror. Bachcha was excitedly running in and out of the room. Aditi was packing the things of her daily needs, thinking hard of everything her daughter might need while she was away in some dingy hostel room with unhealthy food.
“You know, Mummy, I was thinking of joining some coaching institute for UPSC.”
Aditi was thinking if two toothbrushes would do, or should she pack four. “You should,” she replied.
“There is this institute my girls were talking about. It is run by a man who comes from Bhagalpur. Bhagalpur, Mummy, your Bhagalpur! He used to teach in Patna. He grew famous and all and shifted to Delhi. And damn! He really knows how to teach! And more than teach, he motivates. I saw his videos online. He has a bloody nexus of IAS officers serving under him, all of them his former students. How awesome is that! Are you listening, my dear mother?”
Aditi matched the toiletries she had packed with the list in her hand. “Yes. You want to join a coaching class. First decide which coaching. Go there, have a look around, then tell your father.”
“I have already decided, kind of!”
“Come on now, we have to leave. The train is on time.” Manoj called out from the main gates. The driver turned on the car and honked.
Aditi hugged her daughter. She held her and admired the blossoming beauty with red lips and flawless skin and straight, highlighted hair… so different from the group of people who were standing across the river, and the old woman who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, crying, beating her chest. “There is something I want to tell you.”
“What? That you have secretly hidden pickles in my luggage even though I specifically told you not to!”
“No. But yes, I did that.”
“Then?” Aradhana asked impatiently and bit her lips.
“I want you to know… that your parents love you!”
CHAPTER 22
THE BEGINNING
A village sleeps under the sheet of innumerable stars glittering with majestic beauty. The continuous tinkering of a bell. A pregnant cow is restless. A dog is digging furiously. It curls up in the small cavity it has dug and watches the goats on the other side of the street.
Away from the village, away from a large house with flickering bulbs and puffing generator, a man walks under an arched gateway. He is tall and bulky. In front of him lies the ruins of an old temple. Silver light shines on the roof and the pillars, on the steps and the sacrificial platform. But the interior is dark, the shrine even darker.
He sits in front of the shrine and folds his hands. He tries to see inside, but the darkness within is overwhelming, frightening.
He closes his eyes and his life flashes before him.
Long ago, he used to work for the head of the village, the Mukhiya Ji. Threaten, kidnap, extort on his behalf. Mukhiya Ji had set him up with the bank for cover. He used to procure diesel for the bank and make profits. Life was going smooth… until Mukhiya Ji asked him to deliver a package to a man waiting at the border.
He had assumed it would be a thick wad of notes, or drugs, ammunition maybe. But never had he imagined that he would fall in love with the package. He broke ties with Mukhiya Ji. He said he wanted the package for his own, as the reward for everything he had done. From being a notorious criminal, he grew into an assistant in the bank.
The package fell sick when it was pregnant. They visited the medical hub in Purnia again and again and again… and stayed for weeks. Troubled and drunk, he sometimes visited his friends in Harda. They did their best to lift his spirits. And what could lift the spirit of a drunken man more than a woman?
Then one day, the package died, leaving behind a sad reminder – a bright and cheerful baby girl. He tried to cling to the shreds his life was in. But the gods were merciless. He fell sick once. The doctors told him he was dying. Death did not trouble him. It was the thought of his daughter after his death.
He took extra roles in the bank. He would do guard duties. He became a loan agent, even though he could not read or write. He became a cook. He became a driver. He wanted his daughter to grow outside his shady and miserable life.
The man begins to pray.
He is worried. Restless.
The term of the current bank manager is coming to an end. Someone new will take over soon. And he feels a familiar worry gnawing at his core. Will the new manager let him continue in the bank? What if…
He hears a raspy breathing inside the shrine. Then cold fingers begin to scratch his curly hair.
“What is it,” whispers a seductive voice in his ears, “my son, that you wish?”
“I want… my daughter,” he stumbles. “I want good future for my daughter.” He knows it will be futile to ask for ailment. His mother has been praying every day, but the Devi will not grant her wish. He hopes that in asking for a bright future for his daughter, there is a chance, the slightest of all chances, that he will live, for he thinks only he can give his daughter the future she deserves. “I want her to…”
“Shhh! I see it,” says the seductive voice, “I know what you want! And what you want is what she will get!” The fingers are crawling down his neck now. A rough tuft of hair falls over his face. He is shivering. He keeps his hands folded and his eyes shut. “She will grow into a beautiful young woman. She will be educated. And she will be adored. She will be a woman that worms like yourself cannot even imagine to become. But what is it that you can give me… for your daughter’s life?”
“I will sacrifice one goat daily every day, as long as I live.” Another attempt to lengthen his life.
“A goat a day! Is that what your daughter is worth? Is that what you can give me?” The voice is angry. “You pleased your vile master with the life of a man. And you dared to come to the Devi with your promises of goats!” The fingers tightened around his neck. “Don’t you remember, how you pushed him under the water? Don’t you still see his legs trashing and kicking, still hear his old father pleading for mercy, see his lifeless body floating down the river?”
“What... what can I give that will please you?” asks the man, choking.
“A life for a life. Give me your wretched life and I will make hers an envy!”
The man knows he must not get up, yet the terror inflicted is so deep that he opens his eyes. A face is hovering inside the shrine. He is lifted in air. He flails his hands. Kicks his legs.
“Coward!” screams the Devi, holding him by his neck. “Drown yourself in the river. Breathe in the water. Let your lungs burn! And I will give your daughter a life worthy of the price.”
The man is flung down the temple stairs. He tumbles and rolls and gets up on his feet. He runs. Stumbles and falls. Runs again.
The Devi watches him flee. And when he is gone, she returns to the shrine and hums an old village song.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nag Mani published his debut novel, The Green Room, in 2015. Devi is his second novel.
He is an alumnus of Sherwood College, Nainital and holds a B.Tech degree from Delhi Technological University.
He currently lives in Bengaluru.
[email protected]
THE GREEN ROOM
Queen Victoria School, Nainital.
Founded: 1855.
"She wears an old uniform,"
Nisha continued, "pale white face, dark shadows around her eyes. She is often seen sitting on this very chair. And it is said that the chair is always found in front of the mirror no matter where you leave it."
Rohan Agarwal has been appointed the manager of a play, and how excited he is to work with Chandni Joshi - his childhood crush, and unfortunately, his senior! A happy-go-lucky high school boarder, he has his fun with his friends, enjoys the odd sport and does not think twice before raiding his warden's office to leak question papers.
Then, one misty night, he sneaks into the infamous Green Room; and there, he finds something that wasn't meant to be found... Mysterious happenings in the Green Room begin to follow. That's when Rohan stumbles on the fact that the same play was supposed to have taken place before, but it was cancelled. There was something evil associated with the play. Something terrible had happened in the Green Room the first time around, or at least, that's what the stories said. And yet, Rohan finds, the old stories turn out to be true.
And then, he learns a dark secret the school had been hiding...