Once again she took Suraj’s hand and clasped it to her chest. Stay strong Suraj, for my sake stay strong for just a little while longer.
Minutes, which felt like days, crawled by. Flies attacked Suraj mercilessly. Parvati and Tara waved them away, but in a few moments they were back again, crawling over the exposed burns. Suraj twitched once or twice and then lay still, his laborious breathing filling the room.
“Mother, what’s going to happen to us?”
“I don’t know, Tara. We can only hope and pray that your grandfather reaches us in time. If only you hadn’t gone off for a walk, things wouldn’t have gotten out of hand. At a time like this couldn’t you have thought about others rather than yourself?”
The words were like knives through Tara’s heart. Her own mother thought she was being selfish! Going to the Underworld had been one of the most difficult decisions she’d had to make. And the most selfless. She wanted to scream at her mother to wipe the disappointment from her face because her daughter wasn’t someone to be ashamed of! But Tara did not utter a word. A promise was a promise though the injustice of it all was burning her up inside.
“It’s all because of Layla,” Tara said finally. “Suraj and I warned you, Mother. We told you she was evil, just like Kali. Maybe even more so, but you wouldn’t listen. And now look at what the snake has done to us. She’s bitten the hand that fed her.”
“But, Tara, if you weren’t there, how did someone see you walk away from the well?”
Tara sighed. “Mother don’t you remember? Layla had sulked after I got the new green shalwar-kurta. So, with the remaining cloth you had the tailor stitch her one, too.”
She watched Parvati’s face as realization dawned. “Yes … yes of course. I’d completely forgotten about it. You mean she deliberately framed you? But she’s just a child … are you sure?”
“YES!” said Tara. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone! But no one will believe that a child can be so vengeful and clever, too. She’s the cause of all this. She and her mother.” It slipped out before Tara could stop herself.
“Kali?” said Parvati. “But Kali is dead. You said so yourself. How can Kali be responsible?”
“I-I meant she has the same blood as Kali. Right? Layla is finally showing her true colours.”
Parvati shook her head. “I still can’t believe a child could go to such lengths.… She’s only nine.”
“If she can do so much damage now,” said Tara softly, “think of what she’ll be capable of when she gets older.”
Parvati opened her mouth. No words came out.
A deep voice outside the door shattered the silence. “Where’s Tara? Has anyone seen her, or her family?”
Tara froze and clasped Suraj’s hand tighter in hers. Parvati put a finger to her lips. She walked to the window, stood on the tin and peered out carefully. Tara watched her, tense as a tightly coiled spring. They were such an easy target in this place. Once the villagers knew where they were hidden, they were as good as dead.
A few moments later Parvati tiptoed back, her face paler than the whitewashed walls around her. Tara was afraid she was about to faint. She pulled her mother to the floor and slid closer, still holding on to Suraj. The three of them sat in silence, holding hands.
And yet Tara was acutely aware of a fourth unwelcome guest in the room — fear.
“They’re searching for you,” said Parvati softly. “But they’ve moved to the next hut. I pray they don’t come back.” Her voice trembled.
Tara took a deep breath, listening hard. The voices of the villagers became louder as they passed by the hut in the opposite direction and then died away. They were safe for now. Deep silence fell once more. Tara looked around the room; at her mother, at Suraj. Something was not quite right.
The truth crashed over her like a tidal wave.
She was still clutching Suraj’s little hand, but he had slipped away from her grasp forever.
— twenty-one —
Time for Justice
Tara clutched Suraj’s hand tighter, never wanting to let go.
“Let him sleep,” said Parvati. “If he wakes, he’ll ask for water.”
Tara shook her head, trying hard to suppress a sob. The shadows, draped around the room seemed blacker than ever before, filling her with a deep dread. She wanted to lie down next to Suraj and never wake up.
She knelt beside her little brother. His eyes were closed, his face almost bloodless. Yet, there was a hint of a smile. As if he had been happy about something during his final moments. Tara choked back another sob and brushed his forehead with her lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so very, very sorry.”
“For what, Tara?” said Parvati. ‘You didn’t hurt him.”
“He’s gone, Mother.” Tara stuffed a knuckle into her mouth to stop the scream that was building up inside her.
Parvati stared at her, uncomprehending, and then she looked at Suraj. She touched his skin and jerked her hand away. Tara knew why. His body, which had been burning just a short while ago, was cooling rapidly.
“No,” said Parvati. “No, this cannot be.”
She gathered Suraj in her arms and hugged him tight, sobbing softly. Tara moved closer. Her arm brushed a burn on Suraj’s shoulder and instinctively she pulled away, expecting him to whimper. Then she realized he wouldn’t make a sound. Ever again.
Flies buzzed around them, drawn by Suraj’s wounds. The kitchen was a furnace and yet Tara was cold. As time passed, the cold hardened into anger. Then rage. She had lost her baby brother because of Layla. In spite of everything she had done to save him from Kali and then Zarku, she’d still lost him. To an evil child.
If Layla were in front of her right now, she wouldn’t hesitate to squeeze her neck as slowly as possible, until Layla’s eyes popped and she breathed her last.
Suddenly Tara couldn’t sit still a moment longer. She jumped to her feet and grabbed the large, wooden pestle by the kitchen door.
“What are you doing?” said Parvati, her voice still weepy.
“Getting us out of here.”
“Sit down. If the villagers hear you …” She started sobbing again, clutching Suraj tighter.
Tara stared at her helplessly. She wanted to comfort her mother, but she also wanted to escape. The night was fading and she was nowhere close to accomplishing what she had set out to do.
“I’m tired of sitting and waiting,” said Tara. “I have to do something or I’ll go mad.”
She held the long wooden pestle in front of her like a battering ram and charged at the door leading to the front room. The shock of the impact threw her backward. The door held. Tara shook out her aching arms. One of the cuts in her palm had opened up again and blood seeped through, but she didn’t care. All she saw was a door that separated her from Layla and she had to break it down. Before her time ran out, her stepsister would be dead!
Tara walked farther back and once again charged the door. The pestle broke with a loud crack, showering her with splinters of wood. Her body thrummed with the impact, but the door barely had a dent in it. “Tara you’ll hurt yourself,” said Parvati. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, too. Can you please just sit down?” Her mother’s voice shook so much that Tara abandoned her attempt to escape and hugged her.
Parvati’s chest heaved with silent sobs as she clung to her. By this time tomorrow she’d have lost both her children thought Tara. Would she be able to bear it? With her father and grandfather still away, whom would her mother turn to for solace? All of these thoughts tumbled around in Tara’s head, numbing her with worry.
“It’s all right, Mother,” said Tara. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Has anyone checked Raka’s hut?” A gruff voice spoke just outside their door.
Parvati and Tara both stiffened. Tara suddenly realized that she could see her mother’s tear-blotched face and red-rimmed eyes clearly. It was almost dawn. She looked at Suraj. The rigidness of his face was appare
nt now that the shroud of darkness had melted away. Tara wanted to weep anew. Parvati’s gaze searched the room and Tara knew why. They couldn’t leave Suraj like this.
Tara pulled off the bright yellow duppata from around her neck. She loved yellow. It was the colour of sunshine, the colour of life. She shook it out and covered Suraj’s body, giving him some dignity in death.
“That’s Raka’s hut,” another voice said. “Surely you don’t think Tara …”
“Search every house no matter whose it is,” said the first voice. “Those were Kripan’s orders.”
Footsteps stopped outside the back door. Tara and Parvati crouched in a corner as far away from the door as possible. The kitchen had no furniture. There was nowhere to hide.
“The door’s locked from the outside. Now why would anyone lock a kitchen door from the outside?”
“Break it! Now!”
Tara’s heart pounded in tandem with the blows on the lock. She clutched her mother’s hand as they pressed themselves against the far wall. Within seconds the lock broke and fell to the ground with a dull thud. The door crashed open.
Parvati screamed as two villagers rushed into the room. One was a large brute and the other was short and stocky. Neither was from Morni.
“Found her, at last,” said one, a triumphant note in his voice. “It’s time to bring you to justice, Tara.”
— twenty-two —
The Beginning of the End
“No!” Parvati screamed. “You’re not taking my daughter anywhere. You’ll have to kill me first.” She stepped in front of Tara, shielding her.
“Hand her over,” the brute said. He was so large, he towered over them both. His swarthy complexion glistened with sweat in the early-morning light filtering into the kitchen.
“No!” said Parvati.
Both men advanced into the room.
“Look, woman, we don’t want trouble. We have orders to bring Tara to the meeting organized by the Panchayats of Morni and Pinjaur. Let her come with us and no one will get hurt.”
“You will get hurt if you lay a hand on her,” said Parvati quietly. “Go away. Now!”
The men glanced at each other momentarily. “We’ll say this one last time. Step aside,” said Shorty. “We’ll carry Tara out of here if we have to.”
“There’s no need,” said Tara. “I’ll go with you.”
“Tara, no,” said her mother. She faced Tara and clasped her hands. “You can’t do this. What if they find you guilty? I’ll lose …” Her lower lip quivered and she bit down hard on it.
“Oh, Mother.” Tara hugged her tightly, trying to blink back tears. She desperately wanted to tell her mother that it was no use protecting her or holding her back. Her time was up at the end of the day. It made more sense to go with these people. If the Panchayat was meeting in front of all the villagers, Layla was sure to be there.
And that’s all she wanted. To face Layla one last time, to look into her eyes, see the pain and fear on her face when she killed her. In spite of the queasiness, she couldn’t wait to go with the men and get it over with. “Mother, I have to go, you stay here … with Suraj.”
“I can’t let you go alone, Tara. I’m coming with you.”
“You should listen to your daughter, woman,” said the brute. “Stay here with your sleeping child. If she’s innocent, we’ll bring her back in no time at all.”
“Shut up!” spluttered Parvati. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do.” In two strides she was beside Suraj. She flung Tara’s dupatta off his body. Flies buzzed over her brother, crawled over his face, and into his mouth. His pale skin looked as if it were carved from stone.
Tara swayed on the spot and looked away, trying to control her heaving stomach and the tears that welled up in her eyes once again. He should not be dead. He would not have been dead if it hadn’t been for the person who had torched their home and happiness. Layla was definitely involved. Anger sprang up within her like a hungry beast. Just before she squeezed the life out of Layla, she would squeeze out the name of the person who had killed her brother.
“This is my son, Suraj,” said Parvati. “He’s dead because he could not get help in time. Why don’t you stay with him while I go make preparations for the funeral?”
“We’re … we’re very sorry, Sister,” said the burly man. His voice had softened. The other one looked ashamed, too. “We didn’t realize that … he was —”
“Dead. But now you do,” said Parvati. “If you take Tara, this could be her fate. Do you want me to prepare for two funerals? If you were in my place, would you be able to hand over your second child right after losing the first?” She looked from one to the other. “ANSWER ME!”
“If she’s innocent then you have nothing to worry about,” the brute said. “All we’re doing is taking her to a meeting.” He said this very softly. It was evident that he didn’t believe a word of it.
“Is it normal practice to invade a village in the middle of the night and hold a Panchayat because a well was contaminated? You lie to my face that my child might be found innocent?” Parvati dabbed at the tears leaking from her eyes and it took all of Tara’s self control not to break down, too.
“Mother, we both know I have to go,” said Tara finally. Parvati was crying too hard to say another word. “Stay here with Suraj. I’ll send word to Gayatri-ma or Ananth to help you. Trust me, Mother, it will be all right. I’m innocent and God will be by my side.” Her voice wobbled dangerously as she said that. There would definitely be a god by her side: the god of death.
Parvati looked deep into her eyes and Tara had a bad feeling this might be the last time she would see her mother. She wanted to cling to her and never let go.
“You’ve always been my guiding star,” said Parvati. “And since I came back to Morni, you’ve shone brighter than ever. May the blessings of Lord Ganesh be with you.” Her mother kissed her forehead and stepped back.
Tara hurried to the door before she lost her nerve. The men followed her. She stepped over the threshold and looked back. Suraj’s body was still uncovered. His small hand lay on his chest. Tara gazed at him for a long moment. Then she turned and walked out into the bright dawn of her last day in Morni.
— twenty-three —
Panchayats and Promises
The village centre thronging with people resembled a fair, almost like the one at Ambala. The memory of Suraj and Rohan resurfaced and pain clutched at her heart. If anyone had told her that within a few months both of these children would be dead she would have slapped that person.
Why hadn’t she savoured the time with Suraj when she’d had the chance? Why hadn’t she played with him more often, told him that she loved him? Now it was too late.
“Faster,” said one of the men, poking her in the back. “We don’t have all day.”
Tara glared at him, deliberately slowing down. Hundreds of villagers were seated around the banyan tree. There was a buzz in the air, as if they were waiting for a performance to start. As she made her way to the front of the crowd, it dawned on her that she was the attraction. Today they would make her the scapegoat and punish her, hoping that the weather and their fortunes would improve. But they were so wrong. The person responsible for all of their troubles was still on the loose.
People hissed and booed as she walked past. Some villagers leaped out of the way, as if her very shadow would strike them dead. The sight of grown men acting so weird made her want to laugh out loud. But she was terrified, too. This mob looked angry enough for blood and a fair trial seemed impossible. She remembered Kali’s trial and how incensed the villagers had been. Tara continued walking, her head held high, refusing to let fear overwhelm her.
The crowd was yelling. Most of it was just noise, but a few insults she heard clearly;
“Zarku’s messenger.”
“Evil witch.”
“Fallen star.”
“Brave Tara.”
She tasted salt at the back of her throat and swallowed. There w
as at least one supporter in this mad crowd. She scanned the faces, hoping it was Ananth. But there was no sign of him or Gayatri.
And Layla. Where was she? Kali had worked so hard for this moment and it was impossible that Layla would stay away. Tara reached the front of the crowd and waited.
The members of the Panchayat were already seated on the platform. Raka and the other elders nodded at her. Next to Morni’s elders sat the Panchayat of Pinjaur. Five pairs of hostile eyes bored into her. She met their gazes without flinching. She would not give them, or the crowd, the satisfaction of seeing just how petrified she was. The sun climbed higher into the sky, baking her head. Thirst clawed at her throat and fear gnawed her insides.
The noise swelled behind her, but she did not turn around. Instead, she gazed at the Panchayat, one at a time, willing them to believe she was innocent.
At long last, Raka held up his hand. Immediately, the villagers fell silent. He cleared his throat and spoke.
“Tara, you are here because you have been charged with contaminating the well at Pinjaur and also defiling our temple. Morni’s well was also contaminated, but we’re still investigating it. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Tara stared at him. They were actually giving her a chance to speak? She held her head high and spoke. “Rakaji, I am not responsible for either of the two incidents.”
Jeers rose from the crowd behind her. Though her pulse raced, she ignored them.
“We are not concerned about your village well,” said Kripan, the head of Pinjaur’s Panchayat. “All we want to know is how and why you contaminated our well when we were being neighbourly and allowing you to share our water? Why would you put so many lives at risk when you know the rains have failed and this is our only source of water? Are you mad or possessed?”
“Hold on, Kripan,” said Raka. “We are here to prove she did it, not assume she’s guilty.”
“No adult could do something so harmful knowing he or she would suffer, too,” Kripan snapped back. “This has to be the work of a misguided child …”
The Deadly Conch Page 16