The Journey Beyond Bhuloka

by Krutant Iyer

  Murari wriggled to try and free himself from Ballu’s grip, but Ballu being heftier of the two, and taller than Murari, grappled him to the ground.

  “I knew it was you.” Ballu guffawed. “I was waiting for a chance to catch you red-handed. Today’s my lucky day.”

  “Let go of me, Ballu!” Murari shouted angrily.

  Ballu leaned a little, to look behind Murari. The drunkard had passed out, with his head still bowed.

  “Let you go?” Ballu sniggered. “How can I let the village deity go, huh? The villagers would love to pay their respect to you.”

  Saying so, Ballu twisted Murari’s hands behind his back and paraded him towards the village. Murari’s angry struggles to slip away from Ballu’s grip were answered with a flick to his head and tightening the grip to the point where it got unbearable. Raaka and Mitra followed at a distance.

  The villagers were going about their business as usual. There was a general hustle-bustle that one would expect to see on a normal day. As Ballu led Murari into their midst, he called everyone’s attention towards him.

  “Come here, everyone. See who we brought back from the Jungle!”

  All the people in the vicinity gathered around them.

  “It’s the Deity!” Someone shouted from the crowd.

  They gasped in horror.

  “What are you doing Ballu?” a man from the crowd shouted. “That’s the village deity. Quickly release him, or we will all be cursed.”

  The men and women of the village panicked, while the children pointed fingers at Murari and laughed.

  Murari once again made an angry attempt to squeeze free of Ballu’s grip but to no avail. His attempts to get free made the villagers more and more nervous.

  “He is no deity,” Ballu finally announced, with a triumphant smile on his face. He looked around to take in everyone’s reaction.

  “The one who has been posing as a Deity, and terrorising everyone on the jungle trail, is none other than Murari,” he revealed.

  An eerie silence echoed through the surroundings.

  Murari finally managed to break free from Ballu’s grip by stamping on his feet. As Ballu yelled in pain, Murari jumped forward to get some distance between him and Ballu.

  When they realised that Ballu’s was speaking the truth, the look on the villagers’ face changed instantly from trepidation to anger.

  “It’s Murari! Does this boy have no shame at all?” said one of the women who had also been a victim of Murari’s antics.

  “This boy is never up to any good,” said another man. “Always creating trouble for everyone in the village.”

  The crowd murmured in agreement.

  “This brat needs to be taught a good lesson,” said another man. The crowd cheered for the suggestion put forth.

  Murari scoffed at the villagers as he wiped the mud off his face.

  “You want to teach me a lesson? Let me see you give it a shot,” Murari taunted the village men.

  He knew the men in the village were all talks, and would much rather go back to the bar and drink themselves to sleep.

  Ballu charged at Murari, but he deftly parried his punch, and pushed him to the ground, while jumping out of the way. Murari stuck his tongue out, before dashing down the street. Ballu sprang up and followed Murari, with Raaka and Mitra close in tow.

  Murari headed into the village. Having gained a good head start, he ran towards the clearing and quickly got on the rope-ladder that was dangling from the platform atop a tree. By the time Ballu and his friends caught on, he was already up on the machan and had pulled up the rope-ladder, leaving no way for them to follow him up.

  “Get down here, you coward!” Ballu yelled.

  “Do I look like a fool?” Murari retorted.

  “How long do you think you can be safe up there?” Ballu shouted.

  “As long as it takes, pig-face.”

  “You will have to come down sometime. I will be waiting for you when you do. Your Grandma cannot save you this time,” yelled Ballu.

  Murari broke off a small twig from a nearby branch and threw it at Ballu, which he avoided easily. After waiting fruitlessly for a while, Ballu and his group left. Murari tore few leaves from a nearby branch and wiped the mud off his face. After that he just laid down on his back, looking at the clear blue sky, through the dense canopy of trees.

  “Murari – Murari! You stupid brat! Get down here.”

  The voice yelling at him woke him with a jolt from his slumber.

  As he looked down, he saw his grandmother standing below, accompanied by a group of villagers. Ballu was standing towards the back, chuckling at the impending punishment that was awaiting Murari.

  “What do you want Avva?” Murari yelled from above.

  “Get down here this instant,” Diksha yelled.

  “I can hear just fine from here,” Murari said.

  “You stupid brat! You have been troubling the villagers again.” Diksha yelled.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Murari said.

  “Don’t you lie to me. Ballu told me everything.” Diksha said. “You have been posing as the village deity and demanding food and offerings from the villagers.”

  Murari burst into laughter.

  “What’s my fault if they choose to believe in this stupidity?” Murari shouted.

  Just then he saw a strange movement from the corner of his eyes that made him look in the direction of the jungle.

  What he saw froze him to the spot.

  A pack of wolves had just stepped out of the dense jungle, onto the clearing behind the village.

  Murari gasped at the sight. They were taking slow, deliberate steps towards the main street of the village.

  “Get down here, now!”

  He heard Diksha yell from below.

  “Avva!” Murari yelled. “Wolves! Wolves have entered the village.”

  “Do you have no shame, boy? You lie even in front of your Grandmother.” One of the villagers shouted.

  “You idiot! I am not lying. A pack of wolves are heading towards the street.” Murari said, desperately trying to convince the crowd.

  “Sure, they are.” Another villager commented. “Now stop making up stories and get down here.”

  Seeing the futility in convincing the villagers, Murari turned his attention back towards the pack.

  The wolves had stopped advancing and were idling a little ahead of the clearing. Murari now stood upon the Machan to get a better view. He counted six wolves in the pack.

  A wolf pack coming so close to the village had never been heard off. Most packs were known to be small - a nuclear family with a few waifs. The packs had always maintained a healthy distance from the village and its inhabitants. They would hunt in their clearly defined territories.

  He knew it was only a matter of time before they make their way towards the street. It was apparent that the pack was after the livestock in the open barn, at the end of the street, near the river bank.

  Murari knew that he had to somehow draw the villagers’ attention towards the wolves before it was too late. Ignoring his grandmother’s angry screams, he took a deep breath. Cupping his hands over his mouth, he let out a loud guttural howl.

  Diksha stopped screaming at him, while the villagers wondered if the boy had gone completely insane.

  Then they heard it. The pack of wolves howled back in unison, responding to Murari’s howl.

  The collective howl of the wolves sent shivers through their bodies. While some of the men immediately darted into the nearest hut, others scattered all over the place, trying to get into their own homes.

  “Cowards! Where are you running off to?” Murari yelled. “We need to save to cattle.”

  But the villagers had already locked themselves inside the safety of their houses. Only Diksha and surprisingly Ballu remained standing out on the streets now.

  Murari quickly let down the rope ladder and was standing beside Diksha within no time.

  “Quick Avva, we need
to get to safety,” Murari said.

  Before Diksha could respond, they saw six wolves emerge from the other end of the street.

  Ballu stood rooted to the ground. Murari held his grandmother’s hand and quickly dashed off towards the village bar.

  He tried to open the door of the bar, but it had been secured from within by some of the men who had taken shelter inside.

  “Oi – fools! Open the door and let Avva in.” Murari yelled.

  “Go somewhere else, brat! It’s because of you that the wolves have come to the village.” One of the men replied from inside the bar.

  Murari kicked the door in vain. Diksha tugged her hand free from his grip.

  “Don’t worry about me. Go and secure yourself up in the Machan, quickly. Hurry up!” She said.

  “Are you mad, Avva? I am not leaving you here.” Murari said.

  The village had a deserted look as everyone secured themselves inside their homes. Murari knew the pack of wolves would have to cross this street to get to the open barn on the other side of the village, by the river bank.

  Murari saw Ballu staring at the pack of wolves, who were also looking at the three of them menacingly. Murari knew they would attack any moment now.

  “Oi – Ballu! Get away from there.” Murari said.

  But Ballu was too horrified to move a muscle. Murari looked about and found a thick Bamboo stick lying close by. He quickly picked it up and handed it to his grandmother.

  “Avva, please get to the boats,” Murari said. “I will follow you shortly.”

  He knew the villagers always kept some spears and daggers in their boats. He hoped to somehow push one of the boats into the river with Ballu’s help, and get into it with his grandmother. He knew the wolves could swim, but he also knew the waterbody would restrict their movement, rendering it impossible for them to attack.

  Diksha understood Murari’s plan and immediately set off in the direction of the river. Seeing her run, the wolves on the other side of the street also broke into a run.

  Murari was about to turn and dash towards the river too when he noticed the panic-stricken Ballu shivering where he stood.

  “Ballu! What are you doing? Let’s go.” Murari shouted.

  But Ballu did not budge from his spot. The wolves were now almost upon him.

  Murari turned back and rushed towards Ballu. At the same time, the wolf leading the pack jumped with its fangs wide open and its claws out. Murari threw himself on Ballu, sending him rolling on the ground, but the wolf’s sharp fangs managed to clamp onto his upper right arm. Murari instinctively punched the wolf’s eyes with his other hand, making the wolf release his arm from its grasp and back away.

  Murari writhed in pain but somehow managed to keep his eyes on the wolves. He glared at every one of them in defiance.

  “Y – You, you are bleeding.” Ballu stammered, pointing at Murari’s arm.

  “Fool! Is this the time to space out? Pull yourself together.” Murari yelled back, in anger and pain.

  Ballu finally came to his senses as the six wolves circled them, taking slow, deliberate steps around their prey.

  Surprisingly he stood in front of the fallen Murari, shielding him from the wolves.

  Just as the wolves were about to pounce on them, a spear whizzed past Ballu’s ear and tore through one of the wolves’ flesh. The other wolves panicked and backed away. Ballu turned around to see his father standing at the other end of the street, with Mitra, Raaka, Raaka’s father, and Diksha beside him. Raaka handed another spear to his father, who aimed carefully and flung it towards the wolves once again. This time, the remaining wolves turned and bolted towards the jungle, howling as they did.

  The village head quickly rushed towards Ballu, followed closely by the others. Ballu got down on his knees to examine Murari’s injured arm. He was losing a lot of blood and had already lost consciousness.

  Seeing the village head out in the open, the villagers had also come out of their houses. One group of men were standing in a circle around the fallen wolf, while some women and men stood surrounding Murari and the head of the village.

  Ballu’s father bent down to inspect Murari’s wound. The wound was too deep to be able to stitch. The village head lifted his head to look at Diksha but did not find her among the people around him.

  “Where’s Amba?” he asked a man.

  The man just shrugged without even making the effort to look around.

  Ballu’s father frowned at the man’s apathy and got up to look for Diksha himself. She had been with them when they had rushed towards Murari but wasn’t around him now.

  Where has she gone? He wondered.

  He made his way through the crowd and found Diksha bent over the wolf. She somehow looked much older at that moment, and when the village head placed his hand over her shoulder, he could feel her body shivering vigorously.

  “Amba, is everything alright?” he asked.

  Diksha did not respond as she kept staring at the wolf’s neck.

  Then the village head’s gaze fell on the collar around the wolf’s neck. It was camouflaged behind the wolf’s thick fur, being of the same shade.

  On closer inspection, he saw an insignia branded on a small metal coin latched to the collar.

  The crest was in the shape of a human skull with two drawn-out fangs jutting out from the corner of the mouth.

  “They found us!” Diksha muttered under her breath, as her eyes widened in horror.

  ✽✽✽

  Treeni

  A New Arrival

  It had been a month since the wolves had attacked. Timely treatment and care from Diksha had helped Murari’s arm to recover at a rapid pace. The torn muscles were beginning to heal, and it was less painful for Murari to move his arm. Though he could not lift heavy objects using his right arm yet, he could scratch his head just fine.

  Murari had been confined to the hut for the past month. Along with him, his Avva also avoided frequenting the village much, except to restock food and Madira. Whenever he tried to step outside, Diksha would dissuade him from doing so. Initially, he did not think much about this, but then she wouldn’t allow him to leave the hut even after he was able to move comfortably. That’s the first time he noticed the change in his Avva’s behaviour.

  Earlier, he couldn’t get her to stop rambling about one thing or the other, but now, all of a sudden, his Avva had become as quiet as the jungle itself. She had lost the liveliness of her face. The wrinkles on her face had become more apparent within the past month. Her eyebrows were always creased these days as if she couldn’t shake something off her mind.

  Murari couldn’t determine what had come over his grandmother and why was she behaving contrarily to her natural, garrulous personality.

  So, when Ballu, Raaka, and Mitra came to visit him, Murari was not just pleasantly surprised, but also relieved to see them. Diksha cut open four coconuts and offered its sweet water to the boys, before stepping out to collect more herbs and fruits for Murari.

  Murari couldn’t tell if it was day or night outside. Diksha had even covered the only window in the hut with a sheet of shrubs stitched together on a bamboo frame.

  “Amba is really brave, huh?” Mitra said, seeing Diksha step out of the hut.

  “What do you mean?” Murari asked.

  “We waited over a month to come to visit you for the fear of the wolves attacking again. Even though we would have come earlier, the fear of the beasts attack kept us from coming anywhere near the jungle.” Mitra explained. “But look at Amba. She may be the eldest in the village, but she is also the bravest for going out in the jungle every day as usual.”

  Murari kept silent. He knew his Avva had to go out every day to collect the herbs and fruits, because he couldn’t. Even though he had offered to do so, his Avva had admonished him.

  She had entirely lost her liveliness and instead of sitting next to him, she would usually sit by the hut’s entrance, as if guarding it against some unseen forces. Unlike before,
she now always carried a dagger on her. She was paranoid about something. Murari had noticed it and was worried about her.

  One day, when Murari had peered through the door of the hut to look for Diksha, he saw her bent over the semi-circular fence in front of the hut, which she had built over a week ago. She had dug several small holes, in the ground, along the semi-circular fence, while some more could be seen several feet away from the hut. Murari saw her placing several small, tightly packed parcels in each of these holes, with a thin wire sticking out from each of them, extending all the way up to the entrance of the hut. Bringing all the wires together, Diksha had coiled them at the end and covered the wires with strewn leaves and shrubs on the ground. Murari had not thought much about it as he knew his grandmother always kept experimenting with herbs and powders. He understood this could be another one of her experiments, and did not think much about it.

  Ballu and Raaka stood a little towards the back while Mitra sat down with Murari.

  Looking at Ballu’s expression Murari could easily tell that he had only come at the behest of Mitra, who was the only one talking to him.

  “How’s your injury now?” Mitra asked.

  “It’s healed very well. I can move my arm without feeling much pain now. How’s everything in the village?” Murari said.

  “The villagers have been sceptical about entering the jungle after the incident. It has ended up severely depleting the food reserves of the village as no one is ready to go hunting into the jungle anymore. Even the trade has been severely hit. A week ago, the bar ran out of Madira and the useless drunkards have become more belligerent than before, due to the lack of it.” Mitra said.

  “That bad, huh?” Murari sighed.

  “How did you guys get here if everyone’s afraid to enter the jungle?” Murari asked.

  “Well, actually, father sent us to collect medical supplies from Amba.” Mitra hesitatingly confessed.

  “Father asked Ballu and Raaka to come for it, but I decided to tag along as I wished to thank you.” He quickly added.

  “Thank me?” Murari asked.

  “If it weren’t for you, Ballu would have –” Mitra glanced over his shoulder and frowned at Ballu.