The Light of Dead Fires

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The Light of Dead Fires Page 8

by Sakiv Koch


  “‘Where’s that airhead, Sukh Lal?’ Raj demanded to know, already beginning to walk back towards the jetty and The Fierce Tigress. ‘I’ll knock him down and throw him in the river if he doesn’t come running to me within two minutes!’

  “‘It wouldn’t be a good idea, Sona — ,’ I tried to give my unsolicited advice.

  “‘Your staying here a minute longer wouldn’t be a good idea, respected didi!’ she spat out. ‘And what I shall leave behind in your life will neither fade nor be washed away.’

  “There was nothing for me to do now. The river, so sedate a couple of days ago, was now rushing along as though ten thousand locomotives were pulling the immense sheet of water at their top speeds. I hurried back to my cottage, aware that Ravi would come out looking for me if I were not back within the next few minutes.

  “I was determined to keep him indoors and keep him from worrying. The afternoon darkened more. The wind blew with a greater ferocity. Young trees bowed and howled before it, begging for mercy.

  “A fat drop of rain splashed onto my cheek, and then a few more fell on my outspread hands. If it begins to pour, I thought, maybe that madman will give up his intention of crossing the river. But although I hunched my shoulders and screwed up my eyes in anticipation of getting soaked, there was no more water. The clouds were just playing with me.

  “The boat’s ancient motor struggled to come alive several times. Its repeated failures, its strained, tenuous notes gave me another brief, false hope. But the engine got a strong and steady pulse going after a minute. I didn’t look back; I walked even faster, forming a determination that I wouldn’t tell Ravi that his lunatic brother had left on a sailing expedition across the dangerously risen river.

  “Ravi’s eyes were fever-bright when I got back to our cottage. ‘They didn’t come back with you?’ he asked as soon as I stepped in. I shook my head. ‘No, they wouldn’t listen to me,’ I said.

  “‘Of course,’ Ravi said with a trace of complaint in his tone, ‘and that’s the reason I should have gone.’ He was right. He may have succeeded in keeping Raj on terra-firma. Unlike me, he had powers of persuasion that Raj couldn’t ignore. But Ravi wasn’t well and I hadn’t wanted him to go out into the wet and cold air. Secondly, I couldn’t have that insensitive, shameless drunkard insult my husband again. These were the reasons I had insisted upon going myself. I have since spent millions of moments wishing I’d let him go instead.

  “‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I’m just being a worrywart. Raj can look after himself, even if he’s had a few drinks. Hopefully, he’ll be back before it starts to rain again. The clouds seem to be holding onto their water pretty tightly.’

  “The skies turned philanthropic almost at that very moment, letting go of all their hoarded treasure in a tearing hurry. The rainstorm raised an angry cacophony and rendered the world a blind, slippery place. Deep furrows appeared on Ravi’s brow, but he said nothing.

  “My heart sank as I pictured those barbarian, irresponsible parents hauling their toddler along in such murderous conditions. How could a boat, even if it were a European craft, contend with such unbridled rage of the elements?

  “A dilemma took me in its grip and started wringing me in opposite directions: one alternative was to disclose to Ravi that Raj had taken the boat out to the river; and the other was to continue to keep him ignorant of the fact. It didn’t occur to Ravi that even Raj, the mad and reckless Raj, could’ve thought of doing such a thing.

  “My decision, extremely painful and difficult to arrive at, was to maintain the status quo: there was little that my husband could do at this point in time. ‘By looking at you,’ Ravi said, looking steadily at me, ‘one would think you had something really heavy on your mind!’

  “‘I—, I—,’ I stammered, unable to form an outright lie. Our door flew open with a crash and in came inexorable misfortune along with wind-lashed streaks of rain.

  “‘That lunatic!’ Sukh Lal shouted, shivering from head to foot, dripping water as though he were a man-sized cloud, too. ‘That devilish, dastardly, murderous, sadistic, stone-throwing madman —’

  “‘What’s the matter, Sukh Lal?’ Ravi asked him, rising from his seat and going where the old caretaker stood. ‘Did Raj attack you again?’

  “‘Attack me!’ Sukh Lal repeated sarcastically. ‘Attack me, you ask! One needs to be alive in order to attack anyone!’

  “My heart started to beat uncontrollably fast. ‘What do you mean, man? Speak out!’ Ravi shouted, shaking Sukh Lal by his shoulders.

  “‘That — that thieving rascal has taken The Fierce Tigress into the river! He’s attacked himself and his wife and his baby and my darling boat!’

  “Blood drained away from Ravi’s face and his arms fell heavily to his sides. After several moments of standing frozen, he turned his head toward me. I feared that I would have to see his eyes harden and hear his voice raised in accusation. But he simply came towards me and took me in his arms. ‘I’ll have to go and see if I can do something,’ he said.

  “I nodded. I didn’t want him to go. I wanted to scream, cry out, tear my hair out by its roots, stamp my feet, hit the walls with my head, and show him that I would die if he stepped out. There was a deep, dreadful foreboding in my terrified heart. I thought of falling at his feet and clinging to them. But all I did was nod my head.

  “He gave some instructions to Sukh Lal and left the cottage. There was nothing for me to do but follow in his footsteps.

  “Footsteps imprinted on water, to be wiped out soon and forever.”

  11: The Curtain Falls

  “Passing under the skies was like standing under a waterfall. Thunder reverberated in the hills and trees quivered with sobs for their fallen comrades. The cloud cover was so low, so black, so thick it appeared as though a solid roof had materialised over the world.

  “I was dazed. My capacity to think like an adult had retrogressed so that I was a little girl terrified out of her senses. I carried a wooden stool and a large black umbrella in my hands. I wanted Ravi to sit on my stool while I would hold the umbrella over his head. I foolishly wanted to provide him some rest and some shelter so that his fever wouldn’t rise dangerously! You get the idea, Smast — I was already beginning to lose my sanity.

  “An oak burst into brilliant white flame a few feet away, making me jump in air. Ravi stood at the bank of the river, feet wide apart, a hand shielding his eyes as he peered into the savagery of water. The river roared at his feet and shot volley after volley of spray into the air.

  “He turned and looked at me with troubled eyes, but didn’t ask me to leave. He set my stool on the ground and made me sit on it. He actually smiled as he took the umbrella from me. The cloth folded upon itself as soon as he opened it. The warped wire-skeleton of the umbrella made it look like a burnt and blackened tree.

  “Ravi gave it to the insistent wind, which took it skipping along merrily to some spot where it might still be rusting and rotting. We got wetter and wetter, until I began to feel that I was a part of the rain, a distended drop of water about to explode into infinite entities.

  “I took his hand in mine. His skin was so hot I thought our palms would melt and fuse together. ‘Keep me with you, wherever you go,’ I begged of him in a whisper I could barely hear myself. He patted my head absentmindedly.

  “‘Sahib,’ Sukh Lal called out to Ravi. ‘It was a lot of trouble, and all this would prove futile anyway,’ he said crossly, ‘but I’ve brought the things you asked for.’ He dropped two immense, inflated tyre tubes on the ground and shrugged two coils of ropes off his shoulders.

  “They went to work silently. Ravi tied one end of a rope to a tube and the other end around the trunk of an oak. Sukh Lal went a few yards downstream with the other set of rope and tube to perform the same operation around the trunk of another old, big tree.

  “The cursed sound of the cursed motor of the cursed boat rode upon the wet wind and fell upon our straining ears. The rain thinned suddenly and the
visibility increased dramatically. Both the men ran to the bank of the frightening river and craned their necks to take a look. I also got up from my stool and went to stand besides my husband. His body was so taut with tension that he was more a living spring stretched to its limit than a human being.

  “A sense of relief flooded me as I saw the boat, floating downstream rapidly. It was about half a mile away, but it seemed to me that it would reach us within a few minutes. I seized Ravi’s arm and clung to it, feeling everything would be alright. But he jerked his arm free so powerfully that I stumbled off balance and nearly fell down.

  “He mumbled an apology to me, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted: ‘Don’t get into the midstream!’ There was no way anyone could have heard his warning on the boat and he knew it. He picked up the tube lying at his feet and threw it into the river. The rope shot after it and drew straight as the current tugged viciously at the tube.

  “The boat rocketed towards the midstream current. The dynamics of the turbulent water were obviously in greater control of the boat than its engine with the untrained pilot at its helm.

  “‘Oh Lord Krishna, why did the mad demon have to come back just now if he had been lucky enough to cross to the other side in one piece?’ Sukh Lal asked God, who didn’t say anything back in answer.

  “The boat touched the eddy line of the midstream, whipped around and tilted dangerously. It spun again and shot downstream, its engine chugging impotently. ‘The good thing is that he is angling across the current,’ Sukh Lal continued his commentary. ‘The bad thing is that the Tigress is taking a lot of water from those little holes I didn’t get to patch up because of the storm. She will come out of the current in a minute and with all that water, it would be a wonder if she doesn’t capsize.’

  “Tigress was still about two hundred meters upriver, but Ravi grabbed the rope and started to wade into the malevolent river. My throat closed upon itself. I felt as though my life was being choked out of me.

  “‘Wish you wouldn’t risk your life for that lot,’ Sukh Lal said. Ravi made no answer as he went deeper into that destructive inferno of water. The river swirled around him hungrily and shook him like a little twig.

  “‘Ravi sahib chose the perfect spot for a rescue,’ Sukh Lal said sadly and left for the second anchor tree. He threw the second tube into the river. Great waves pounded the bank and folded back upon the river.

  “The low-riding boat reached the powerful eddy line, jerked around and heeled over dangerously to one side as it exited the main current of the river. One of its gunwales dipped in water and the boat stood on its side for a moment. The pilothouse’s door banged open and Sona fell out into the river with a bloodcurdling scream.

  “‘Ravi was at the rope’s end by this time. He intercepted her and grabbed hold of her hair as Sona came floundering down the river within a few feet of his position. He held on to her for a moment, lifted the tube out of water, and put it around her shoulders like a black, bloated garland. Sukh Lal and I started to pull the rope towards the shore with all our combined strengths.

  “Ravi let go of Sona and swam toward the second tube with powerful strokes, swimming away from the midstream current. I pulled the rope in feverishly until my shoulders burned and the skin of my palms was chafed raw. Sona’s head disappeared a few times, but the tube kept her afloat and we finally dragged her ashore. She lay panting, spluttering water, trying to sit up and disengage herself from the life-saving embrace of the rubber tube.

  “We stood up and looked at the river together. The boat was not to be seen anywhere. Raj was plummeting downstream, being pulled towards the raging mid-stream. He clutched his son to his chest with one arm, while his other arm worked like a windmill’s blade, but he barely managed to keep his head above the surface.

  “I shivered like a malaria-struck person. The bits of willpower, strength, and feeling that still survived in me flew into my husband’s body, so that we became more one than we had ever been before. I felt the grip, churn, and tug of the river. I felt the ravages of the fever that was burning him up.

  “He had stopped swimming towards the second tube and was now heading towards the midstream. The brothers were converging and, by some miracle of timing, met just before the edge of the eddy line. Ravi grasped Raj’s collar and started to steer him towards the sanctuary of the tube.

  “They almost reached it, but Raj somehow lost hold of the child. Within seconds, the powerful midstream current claimed the boy and bore him away at incredible speed.

  “I screamed. Sona screamed. Sukh Lal screamed. Raj began to struggle madly, trying to break Ravi’s hold and go after his son. Ravi slapped him for the very last time and forcibly bestowed the tube’s protection upon him.

  “The three of us on the ground started to pull Raj landwards. Though my hands bled and pained terribly, I put in all my strength dutifully to save that monster, until I saw what my husband was doing. I dropped the rope and cried loudly enough to burst my vocal cords: “No, Ravi, no, nooooooo! Please don’t!’

  “He wouldn’t listen to me so I ran towards the shore to jump in. But Sukh Lal grabbed me from behind and dragged me back.

  “Ravi was going after the boy, going with all his might. He was throwing away his life, my life, your life, for a life he couldn’t have saved anyway. He just didn’t know how to give up. Maybe he thought that he would be able to do the impossible. Maybe it looked possible to him.

  “He plunged into the midstream. I’m not sure to this day, but I like to think that he stopped for a fraction of a second and looked back at me. I’m not sure. I had already lost my mind and my voice by then.

  “We started to run on the bank. Underbrush, branches, thorns, rocks, and logs tripped, stabbed, scratched, lashed, stubbed and cut us. We stumbled and we collapsed, but we ran on until we couldn’t. We quickly and comprehensively lost our race with the river’s current, which swept my husband and his nephew away.

  “The rain thickened again, as though it had just raised a curtain for me to watch my own heartbreaking, mind-destroying, soul-blighting doom. I continued to breathe, but I was dead long before my noble, beautiful husband drowned.”

  12: A New Birth

  A rooster crowed. Moments later, the town-hall clock struck six o’clock. The cloudy morning continued to wear a mantle of night-like darkness. Nina sat wide eyed, breathing shallowly, repeatedly licking her dry lips.

  “That boy…wasn’t Pintu,” Smast said, just for the sake of chasing away the silence. He felt disappointed that it wasn’t Pintu.

  Nina shook her head. “It was their firstborn, a child they hadn’t given a name yet. To have died nameless…”

  Her raw, torn-to-shreds voice faded away with a kind of a finality, as though she were done speaking forever. He filled the tin mug with water and brought it to her, but she pushed the mug away, closed her eyes, put her hand on her throat, and heroically made sound again. Its production was so painful to her that Smast winced twice with each word — once at the sound, once at the meaning.

  “There’s not much left to tell. There was nothing left for me in the world, except for you. I would have ended my life to be with your father, had I not been pregnant with his child.” She chuckled a painful chuckle. “It was the easiest thing for Raj and Sona to throw me out of my own home. I was a madwoman. I didn't fight them. I couldn't fight them. If Mohan Ram, our oldest servant, hadn’t given me shelter, we couldn’t have survived. After your birth, when I started to regain a small proportion of my sanity, no lawyer would even talk to me, let alone fight a case for me.

  “Many people loved your father, and the whole town went into mourning when the news of his tragic death reached here. Mohan Ram tells me that a lot of them tried to help me, but I would hurl abuses at them and curse them and ask them never to come back again. Raj kept a list of such people and almost of all them suffered at his hands later.

  “Mohan Ram took all my abuse, took all the punishment Raj meted out to him, but he per
sisted with the difficult task of keeping me alive. I became a little less mad after you were born, but Raj and Sona had entrenched themselves in our new home, taken everything over, turned me into a beggar. I entered into slavery on my own lands in order to earn some food. I somehow built us this home by selling a couple of gold bangles that Sona had not been able to wrench off my wrists.

  “My foster father and sister had left for Port Blair a few months before Ravi's death. Sunita’s husband was a medical orderly at the Cellular Jail there. Sunita and I had corresponded with each other regularly since her departure, but she stopped writing abruptly after I was widowed, abandoning me when I needed her the most. The letters I addressed directly to my father didn’t elicit any response either.

  “I raised you in complete darkness. I put a thick sack over your light. But I’ve been biding my time, knowing that your radiance will burst forth one day and change things. That day has come. Things have changed. They are coming for you, my son. I can’t stop them; I can’t stop them.” She stopped speaking and started crying in a quiet, dry-eyed way. Only her body shuddered from time to time.

  ◆◆◆

  The callers didn’t bother to knock. They pushed the door open exactly as the clock started to strike the hour of seven. Darshan Singh’s enormous belly protruded into the hut, closely followed by his billowy roll of chins. He wore a white kurta pyjama and limped badly when he walked.

  He pointed a bloated, gold-ringed finger at Smast. “You, thief and coward!” he bellowed in his squeaky, girly voice, all the more incongruous as it issued out from between the ends of an enormous moustache. “Come with me! We’ve got to — Oof!”

  Something smaller, but built on the same elephantine scale as Darshan Singh, pushed the man roughly from behind. Darshan Singh’s bandaged foot inadvertently took all his weight; the fiery supervisor screamed in agony, stumbled a few feet into the hut in a bid to preserve his balance, slipped on the wet floor, and fell upon his knees in front of Nina and Smast.

 

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