Short Stories

Naagin
A Story By Deepak Jeswal

�Beware!�

Sharply, Kshitij turned around. Perched on the tree, hanging down was a long, brown cobra, ready to attack.

Quickly staggering back, he stumbled on piece of log. Gaining his balance, he stepped over it, and picked it up in self defense.

The snake hissed, and charged forward. Kshitij found his hand moving in reflex action and throwing off the log. Even before he could see where the log landed, he was running, his two other friends in front of him. He turned back for a split second to have a last look, and nearly tripped again.

Their feet made a strange sloshing sound on the wet grass, as they ran down the slippery mountain side, towards the main road, where their taxi stood. Reaching the vehicle, they stopped a second for their breath, looked back, and sat into it, bidding the driver to drive out fast.

The hills of Nagarkot were quiet, and the taxi cut through them with a low reverberating sound.

�Thank God! That was close!� remarked Vinit, his friend.

Kshitij sat still, on the seat next to the driver, looking ahead at the darkening narrow hill road. He did not reply. His mind was numb. On the photographic plate of his brain cells, the last shot was firmly etched. Pulling himself closer, he realized he was shivering from that memory.

The log had hit the snake. And cowering over it, as if in grief, was another snake!

Beyond, darkness enveloped the mountains in its comforting folds.

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The flight landed a quarter of an hour late into Delhi�s International Airport. As Kshitij waited for their baggage, Vinit walked over to him. Their third friend, Suraj, was still struggling with the immigration.

�What�s the matter?� Vinit asked, concerned. �Ever since Nagarkot, you have been unusually quiet�
�Nothing�� Kshitij tried to evade.
�Come on Kshitij! I know you better� Vinit placed his podgy hand on his friend�s shoulder and forced to face him.
�Vinit�that snake; it got killed! There was another with him�perhaps his partner!�
Vinit eyed him for a second, and burst out in a fit of laughter. �Hey, man! Relax�you are watching a lot of Hindi films. You think that snake�s mate will take revenge from you?� He burst into another round of laughter. �Come on, those things happen only in stupid Hindi films, and not in real life. Relax buddy! And in any case, we have left that country, no? So, what�s the trouble? You can�t expect a snake go to an immigration counter asking where you left for, eh?�

Kshitij smiled weakly, and turned to look at the rolling baggage claim belt.

�Hey dudes, baggage not in as yet?� This was Suraj, forever jumping, rocking towards them.

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�Mom!� exclaimed Kshitij. �If you are going to feed me so much, I will go back obese�

Ignoring Kshitij, his mother placed another chapatti on his plate; Kshitij looked doubtfully at the ghee-filled chapatti, and almost groaned.

�As it is you are here only for a few days, and over that you do not allow me to pamper you. It�s not right!� A dollop of the vegetable plonked itself neatly besides the chapatti.

Kshitij looked over to his friends, and then his mom; smiling meekly, he just attacked the chapatti; all said and done, the food was really tasty. It was always fun to be back to India on holidays. This time they had spent a few relaxing days in Nepal before reaching Delhi. His friends, Vinit and Suraj, were with him, working in the same software company in New York. Their parents were in Mumbai.

�So you guys�what�s your plan now?� asked his mom, constantly eyeing the depleting chapatti to replace with another one.

�Well, we are here till Saturday, and then go off to Kasauli and Shimla for a week days, after which a couple of days in Mumbai and then back,� Kshitij answered, finishing off the last bite of the chapatti. His friends ate in silence, eyeing the mother-son banter, knowing fully well that they would be subjected to the same things once home in Mumbai.

�One more?� his mom asked, opening the casserole. They sat on the oblong dining table, overlooking a neatly maintained garden, more of a passion than hobby of Kshitij�s father.

�No way� Kshitij protested, and quickly placed his hand over his plate, lest she tried.

�Ok, have this� His mom pulled towards her a copper pot lying at the centre. � I have made for you your favorite gajar ka halwa� she winked, taking the lid off the pot.

A whiff of sweet aroma filled the room. Kshitij eyed it temptingly.

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The grass felt luxurious and warm under his feet. Delhi was still hot and humid. He heard a rustle behind him, and turned sharply.

His mother was there. �Mom! You scared me�
�Serves you right� She was an elegant, sweetly plump woman always dressed impeccably in the best of sarees. �Here, see this� She forwarded to him what looked like a photograph.

Kshitij winced. Not again! His mom would never tire of showing photographs of girls whom she had selected for his marriage.

�No way!� He cried out.

�She is Sharma uncle�s only daughter. Her mother is a kitty party member too. She said that she was also looking for a suitable match. Guruji was also saying it would be a good match� Guruji was their family priest.

�Mom, what does Guruji know? In any case not now, please!�
�Then when, son! You are already twenty seven. This is the right age for marriage. You were born to your father when he was only twenty six. You are already late�
�That was ages ago, mamma! This is 2004! Even girls do not marry so early these days. �
�I don�t know what society you live in? But girls from my social group get married by 23. This way we will not find any suitable match for you.� She replied, looking away, hiding a sob.
Kshitij came forward and hugged her. �Mom I told you, I will marry a girl whom I fall in love with. And once I do, I will bring her to you the first thing.�
�Beta, when?�
�Perhaps in this trip only�who knows!�

Kshitij did not realize how God answered one�s prayers.

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The soft orange colored dupatta flew with the halcyon wind and dropped itself tenderly on his face. For a second he thought the sky had fallen. But the whiff of fragrance, a mild intoxicating one, caught his nostrils, and he regained his consciousness. Pulling the dupatta from his face, his eyes caught the most beautiful sight. Standing before him, her eyes furrowed in a mild tension, was a girl in a soft beige suit that hang on her frail, 5�6�� frame with grace. Before her the mesmerizing Kasauli hills looked useless. Her eyes were deep and dark as the ocean, over a small pert nose, and a spotless fair skin bordered with straight falling black hair.

�I am so sorry� the girl said, her voice as soft as crystals tinkling, and she extended her hand to retrieve the dupatta from Kshitij.

Dumbfounded, Kshitij just stood rooted, his mouth open in amazement. He had never met such a pure beauty ever.

Taking the dupatta, and wrapping it over her soft body, the girl started to walk away. Too late to react, Kshitij raised his hand as if to call her, but his voice did not abide by him. She skipped her way down the hilly road, her silky soft hair bobbing and before turning towards the Mall Road, she turned to have a look at him, and smiled.

Kshitij felt a current run through him, but he did not move. The girl disappeared.

�Arre�you are here, and we thought we had lost you!� A voice called bringing him back to the present. It was Vinit. Seeing the disheveled look of Kshitij, Vinit put his fat hand on his shoulders. �What happened?�

Almost in a daze, Kshitij answered. �I am lost!�

************************************************************************************

They sat on the garden restaurant of their hotel, overlooking the awesome Himalayan range. Sipping a beer, Vinit joked, �So the gentleman has fallen in love. Can you tell us who the lucky one is?�

Kshitij blushed, and tried to evade. Since the evening, when he had told his friends of the meeting, they had been pulling his leg. Averting their gaze, he looked out to the mountains. A large eucalyptus tree, at the corner of the garden, marred the view, but the tree looked like a gracious old man overlooking his kingdom. As Vinit and Suraj joked amongst themselves, Kshitij fixed his gaze on the tree and the mountains beyond. He could still smell the soft fragrance from the dupatta, and saw the girl�s perfectly deep eyes. As he looked at the tree, he became aware of a movement. Screwing up his eyes, he leaned forward to peer at the movement. Slowly, he got up to look at the same from close. It was as if he walked in a trance. Reaching the tree, he gave out a loud cry!

There was a snake, eyeing him viciously.

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�Thank God, the tourist season is off. It is so much better� remarked Suraj; his short frame looked even shorter in the denim dungarees that he wore. Vinit told him he looked an ass to which Vinit�s retort was that at least he did not look an overgrown buffalo!

They were on the main roundabout of Kasauli, from where the two Mall Roads forked out.

�Relax, Kshitij� Vinit said, sensing his friend�s discomfort. �There was no snake there. It must be your imagination.�
�I swear Vinit�I did see it�� his voice trailed off. Standing on the pavement, in front of a shop, looking at the wares displayed, was the same girl. The shop was next to a cafeteria, where some youngsters sat for coffee and beer.
�Now what happened?�
�There she is�� He was again in a daze; she looked even more beautiful today, in a red cotton suit.

She turned to the shopkeeper standing at his shop�s doorstep. It was a small town, tourist season was almost over, and clientele was less.

�Come�� Kshitij said, and led the way, crossed the roundabout and reached the pavement.

As they neared, they saw four other youth sitting at the cafeteria.

The same tinkle of a voice rang a few melodious bells in Kshitij�s ears as the girl asked the rate of a dress that she had seen.

�Haay�what a thing!� a gruff voice called out. Kshitij turned his face. The voice had come from one of the four youths sitting on the edge of the cafeteria. A loud coarse guffaw followed. �So smooth that I just feel like touching her!�
�So why don�t you, friend.� The man�s friend offered. He wore a denim jeans and a denim jacket; his face was hard and rocky, with a two day stubble jutting out.
�Mmmm�� another of their friend leered. �Saali, mazedaar hogi�
�Just a sec, friends; my dad is the mayor of this town, let�s go and have fun with her tonight�

The girl had also realized that they were talking of her; feeling a little awkward she smiled apologetically to the old shopkeeper. Excusing herself, she started to walk away from the shop towards the roundabout. But even before she could realize, the denim guy had jumped over the fence of the cafeteria and blocked her way.

�Baby,� he said in a lewd voice. �Let�s have some fun tonite, no?�
�Please excuse me� she said, and started to turn the other way, but the man simple lunged forward and caught hold of her hand.
�Leave me� she implored.
�No one has said no to Baba and walked out, baby!� The man twisted her arm and pulled her to him. His friends, seeing the fun, had also crossed the fence towards him. The girl winced in pain, and cried out.

Kshitij felt his blood boil in rage. He was standing just a few feet from them. Taking long strides he walked up to the scene, and tapped the denim guy�s shoulders.

�Mister, the lady is asking you to leave� he said in mock-seriousness.

�Why?� the man replied, in a taunting tone. �Are you her brother?�

�No, sir� Kshitij continued his mocking tone. �I am not her brother. But maybe you would like to be�. Before anyone could react, Kshitij gave a quick punch in the man�s abdomen, forcing Baba to leave the girl�s hand, and double up in pain. Seeing the action, two of Baba�s friends jumped on Kshitij, but he was smart to dodge, and then gave a flying kick to one of them that landed straight on the jaw. Vinit and Suraj were near, and they took charge of the third man. Baba, who had by now recovered from the initial pain and shock, gave a blow to Kshitij that sent him reeling down. He felt blood ooze out from his lips where the punch had hit him. Recovering quickly, he lashed frontward, like a bull charging, and crashed into Baba�s stomach, pushing him along to the wall, and gave him a knee kick at the pubis. Before crumbling Baba gave a last minute sock on Kshitij�s back, which made him leave the descending Baba, and stagger back, only to have one Baba�s friends hit his flailing arm that got caught in the awning of the shop. He felt a sharp pain run through his hand, but was sane enough to give a foot kick to the man, again below the belt. The man doubled up. Kshitij saw his moment, and rushed to Baba, and lurching him up by the collar pulled him to a stand, and gave a couple of more punches on his stomach that made Baba vomit out all the beer that he had consumed. But Kshitij was not to leave him so soon. He gave a kick again at the pubis, and punch on the back of the crumbling Baba. His anger was at its peak, and he started kicking Baba with his foot the way one does to a ball.

�Leave him� you will kill him� Vinit was now by his side, having finished off with two of Baba�s accomplices. He pulled Kshitij away from Baba. Kshitij was panting like a dog, and sweat dripped onto his eyes. He wiped some of it with the back of his hand.

�Oh my God, you are hurt!� The girl had come forward. �Why did you all this. It happens all the time.� Still breathing hard, he saw a look of extreme concern in her eyes. She recoiled at the blood coming from the side of his lips, and the sharp cut in his hand.

Picking up the corner of her dupatta, she tore a large chunk of it, and raised his hand, to tie on it as a sort of a bandage. With the other corner of the dupatta, she wiped off the blood on his face.

�Thank you� she said, their eyes met for a second, before she lowered it.

�I am Kshitij,� he offered, his breath becoming quite normal.

�Madhuri�

************************************************************************************

For Kshitij the morning was bathed in a unique misty sunlight; everything was so beautiful. The bright day, the azure sky, the green trees and the hefty mountains; all of them seemed to echo his thoughts of joy. The entire night he had not taken off the dupatta piece that she had tied on his palm. And now, as he went for his morning walk he kissed it. The same soft fragrance waded into his nostrils. He loved it. He loved her.

�Come back soon, we will do some shopping today before leaving�� a huffing voice called out behind him. It was Vinit, who had run behind him.

With a skip in his step he went for the walk, but recoiled in horror, soon.

On the gate of the hotel lay a snake�

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�Snake, no way!� The hotel manager�s voice was sharp and comic. �If you had said a bear or two I would have understood. But there are no snakes here� He gave a loud high pitched laugh.

The three friends looked at him with disgust.

�Mr. Manager. I am not lying!� exclaimed Kshitij.
�And you think I am?� the manager asked narrowing his eyes, and again broke into the same squeal of laughter

�Madhuri�� he called.

She turned; and gave him a warm smile. They were on the Lower Mall Road. From the distance he had sighted her, ran towards her and called her. Seeing that he wanted to talk, she walked towards him.

Looking at his still dupatta-bandaged hand she smiled. �Did you not go to the doctor? It could get septic�
�Your dupatta is there; it will not� He smiled back.
�How do I thank you for what you��
�With one cup coffee!�
She looked at him questioningly.
�Yes, Madhuri. Let�s have coffee. You can thank me, and I can learn more about you�
She smiled.

�Mom and dad died in a plane crash when I was very young� she said. They sat in the same open-air cafeteria that had witnessed the fight yesterday. �I was brought up by my uncle and aunt, and I have come for a vacation here with them. Otherwise, we stay in Mumbai. And you?�

He told about himself. The air was warm and a low breeze flew, fluttering a small tuft of her hair on her fair visage; she looked extremely beautiful, soft and serene.

When he told her that he might be leaving the same day, her face clouded. �I thought��

�Can�t help it� he replied. �Our room is also booked in Shimla�
�Shimla?� she exclaimed excitedly, her soft hands removing the hair from her face.
�Yes, why?�
�We are also going to Shimla tomorrow. Then we can meet there�I will be staying at Clarke�s�
�Wow! That is some coincidence! Even we have our bookings there. Great!�
************************************************************************************

�So, she will be here too!� joked Vinit. �Look brother, I am in no mood to get into another fight, so keep her away from nasty crooks�
�Cut it out� Kshitij retorted, good naturedly.
They stood at the balcony of their hotel, overlooking the hills. On the right hand side, the huge concrete block of Shimla stood on the verdant hills- a mass of ugly buildings blotted on the face of nature.
�Hey I have an idea�Let�s do the Naldera trip today itself� Naldera is a small golf course, a few kilometers away from Shimla.
�And why so?� asked Suraj, knowing the answer very well.
�Arre�we should not waste time. What is there to do here in any case, except roam idly on the Mall Road and feed the monkeys�
�Or, should we say, what is there here today; but tomorrow it will be better, eh?�
�You bastard�� Kshitij punched the diminutive Suraj in mock.
But before Suraj could reply, Kshitij�s eyes caught something slithering away on the pipe that ran by the side of the balcony- a snake.
�Look�� he called, and pulled both his friends to look at the pipe. But it was too late.

************************************************************************************

Kshitij had nearly dozed off when the car halted to a sudden brake. They were returning from Naldera, after staying the night there.

�Uh..What happened?� he asked, half asleep.

�Sahibji, a car seems to have conked off,� the driver of the huge eight-seater Qualis said.

Kshitij peered out of the windscreen, and gave a yelp of joy. Standing besides the car, nervously biting into the corner of her dupatta stood Madhuri. An elderly couple stood with her; the driver was busily buried behind the opened hood of the black Tata Indica.

With leap Kshitij jumped out of the car, and rushed to her.

�Madhuri, hi!�
She smiled shyly. �Hi�� And then turning to her uncle, she said. �Chachaji, meet Kshitij. I told you about that heroic guy who saved my honor the other day in Kasauli. Kshitij is that guy.�

The elderly man, in his late fifties looked at Kshitij with gratitude, and came forward and clasped his hand. �How can I ever thank you for what you did. As it is Madhuri is the last remnant of my dear departed brother�if something had happened to her, I would not have been able to face the world��
The lady, in a gawdy black and red saree, with hennaed hair, also came forward and thanked him.
�You are shaming me, uncle� Kshitij said, visually embarrassed. �What happened?�
�Beta�we were going to Shimla, when the car suddenly went awry.�
�Arre, that�s great!� exclaimed Kshitij, and immediately bit his tongue. �I mean, so sorry�but it�s great that we are also going back to Shimla. Why don�t you join us?� He looked towards Madhuri, who just smiled naughtily.

The journey back to Shimla would not be dull now, thought Kshitij.

************************************************************************************

With Madhuri, the five days in Shimla passed in a dream like pleasure. Each day, they met, talked, discovered new routes and had fun. For him, Madhuri was a dream come true, his ideal woman, and the one that he had always thought of.

On the fifth and final day, they met at the roof top restaurant, late at the night. The sky was clear, and the moon was there in full splendor. The restaurant was brightly lit as part of its tenth year ceremony.

�Madhuri�I have to tell you something�
She looked into his eyes, and sensed what was coming.
�Promise me, you will not say no, and you will not get angry�
Her heart beat faster, and he stepped closer to her, till she could feel his soft breath on her.
�I have not said this to any other girl, I just don�t know how to say it even�but Madhuri, I love you�

A thousand firecrackers went up in the night, as part of the celebration.

************************************************************************************

He stepped onto the road, happy. She had said yes. His world was complete. She had also promised to come to Delhi before going to Mumbai, so that she could meet his parents. As he touched the pavement, it felt stopped. Bending his neck to look at the strange thing, he jumped back in fright� a snake stood menacingly, trying to wrap around his feet.

************************************************************************************

�Snake!� his mother hollered. �Now what is this nonsense?� Turning sharply to Vinit, she asked. �Will you please enlighten me?�

Vinit looked hopelessly at the sick Kshitij, and then back to the mother. The past two days had been harrowing. Kshitij had gone to meet Madhuri, but came back in hysterics. Since then, he had acted deranged.

Vinit blurted out the Nagarkot incident. �And now, he sees snakes everywhere� Vinit ended his narrative.

Kshitij�s father walked into the room. A stern looking gentleman followed, carrying a small rectangular black leather doctor�s case. As he went about his business with the stethoscope, his mother stepped out of the room, trying to hide her tears.

�Now, whose evil eyes have done this to my poor baby� His mother cried. Vinit, who had come out, seeing the bad condition, tried to console her.

�Everything will be ok. Don�t worry! He will be fine�

The doctor came out of the room, removing his spectacles with one hand, and the stethoscope with the other. Kshitij�s father was behind him.

�Doctor?� he asked.
�Don�t worry� the doctor replied. �I have given him an injection and he will be fine by morning. I think it is just plain excursion of all that traveling. A couple of days of rest will do him good.�
�Thank you Doctor� Kshitij�s father replied. �Sharda, I will just come�� he said, and went ahead to show the doctor the way out.

************************************************************************************

For two days Kshitij was unwell, but slowly, he regained his composure. On the third day he was up and running. Madhuri had called. She was coming to meet him; she was also worried about his health, which she had learnt from Vinit.

�Ma,� Kshitij said, nervously.
His mother was knitting a sweater. From above the glasses she looked at him. �Yes?�
�Nothing��
The mother shrugged, and went about her work.
�Ma�� he called out again.
She looked up.
�Nothing��
Getting up, he started to pace the room; it was mid-afternoon, and Madhuri would be here anytime. And before that, he wanted to inform his mom, but could not gather courage to do so.
�Ma�I have to tell you something�
�Yes?� Once again, she looked up. �Now don�t waste my time, in all this braying like a donkey�and tell clearly, when is she coming?�
He stopped short in his track. �Who, ma?�
�Now, don�t act innocent. Vinit has already told me about the girl you met in Kasauli.�
He almost jumped in joy, and ran towards her. �Ma, she is coming right now�and she is so lovely, you will love her immediately�

�Ma�meet Madhuri�

His mother turned, and stood rooted at the resplendent beauty. Madhuri was wearing a soft green suit, and looked like a princess.

�Lovely�come here beti� his mother called out lovingly. �How on the earth could you choose an idiot like my son�you are so pretty�

Madhuri smiled shyly; pulling her dupatta on her head, she bent down to touch Kshitij�s mother�s feet. Pulling her up midway, his mother hugged her lightly. �Jeeti raho� she showered her blessings.

�Mmm�Kshitij, now we must meet her parents and get a date fixed fast�
�Maaji�I do not have parents, I am an orphan� Madhuri said, lowering her gaze, her eyes clouding with tears.

Kshitij�s mother was a little taken aback, as he had not told her about this. But recovering fast, she pulled the girl towards her, and said, �No, beti, you should not say thus. Why should you be an orphan? From today, I am your mother� and hugged her.

Madhuri responded with a tighter hug, in gratitude; tears of joy flowed from her eyes.

�Just a sec� his mother said, and got up to go to her room. Seeing his chance, Kshitij walked up to Madhuri and hugged her. She pulled away demurely, resisting his overtures, and admonished him with a stern look.

Just then his mother re-entered the drawing room, carrying a small wooden jewellery box. Seating Madhuri beside her on the lush sofa, Kshitij�s mother opened the box and took out two shining bracelets. He stood behind the sofa.

�Beti, these are our family heirlooms. My mother-in-law gave them to me when I first came to this house. Now they are yours.� Gently pulling Madhuri�s wrist, she put the bracelets on them. The bright gold shone against Madhuri�s milky skin.

�And now you also have to take care of this crazy boy, who keeps seeing snakes all over the place� said the mother, in a slight worried tone.

Madhuri looked up at him, and rested her head on his mother�s shoulders.

************************************************************************************

The marriage date was set for the end of the month; Kshitij faxed USA for an extension of leave. The entire house was in a bustle of activity. Madhuri was now staying at a hotel, nearby, till the wedding. Her uncle and aunt had met his parents.

�I am hungry!� she cried. They were in the porch. The entire house was lit up in bright lights. Inside, a feverish festive activity was on. There were ladies in colorful saris preparing for the prayers for the night; it was Karva Chauth. On the side, tables were set with the food that the ladies would partake to break the fast, after seeing the moon.
�So, who asked you to keep the fast?� he retorted.
�Why can�t the moon come out early today?�
�Here, have these, no one is looking� he offered a banana, picked up from the well stowed fruit basket on the table.
�Shhhh�� She said angrily, and hit him. �Go to hell! Making fun of me, eh? You must have eaten the whole day, while I keep the fast for you�� She pushed the banana away disdainfully, and started to walk in.
�Hey�Madhuri, sorry, I was just joking�� He stretched to pull her arm, but his cousin sister came in just then.
�Bhaiya�give some time off to Bhabhiji for us also�� and took away Madhuri inside, to the bustle of activity.
Madhuri rushed in gleefully with the cousin; before entering, she turned, and jokingly stuck a thumb at him.

************************************************************************************

They sat on the terrace, with Vinit looking at the two awkwardly.

�Is this the time to come? I thought we were to eat together. I am famished! You and your friends!�
Vinit squirmed.
�Ok,ok�I am sorry, baby!� Kshitj said, trying to mollify her.
�Don�t call me baby�it reminds me of that Baba�� She said, and pulled the food tray in front of her. �Dammit, this Indian culture is all wrong; why should we women suffer a fast to pray for you men!�
Kshitij lowered his head, in apology, and did not say a word.
�Bhabhiji� interjected Vinit. �Don�t be mean. Even Kshitij has not had a morsel of food. He has also kept a fast for you, even though there is no tradition to do so� Getting up, he said to Kshitij. �Sorry buddy, could not hold it any further. Anyways, you two enjoy yourself, I am going home� Saying that he walked away.

Madhuri did not know where to look. Kshitij still sat there in front of her, kneeled down, his head hung low.
Trying to salvage the best of her battered ego, she asked in a half stern tone. �Is it true you have also not eaten?�
With his head still low he shook it sullenly.
�Look up�
He did.
Breaking a bite of the chapatti, she mixed it with the dal, and offered to him. �I am sorry� she said, in her best sweet tone.
Taking the bite from her, he nodded. �Happens�m�love. It always happens�such small thing happen in many big cities�
He also reciprocated the act, and together they started to eat.
�I hope you are not having any snake delusions now?� she asked, concerned. They had finished off the dinner, and were sitting by the wall, on the terrace.
�Madhuri, they were not delusions. I actually saw all of them.�
She placed her head on his shoulders. �Don�t worry, I am there now. You should not see anything else�

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With long business like strides, Guruji entered the house; he wore a long robe of orange; his eyes shone with knowledge; a rudraksh necklace hung on his neck, just below a flowing beard.

�Alakh Niranjan!� He called out, in a deep baritone.

Kshitij�s mother came into the room, pulling her saree pallu over her head.

�Pranam, Guruji� Kshitij�s mother reverentially touched his feet.
�May you always be a married woman� he blessed in his booming voice.

Kshitij was in the dining room; he winced at the voice. He abhorred this Guruji! The world had advanced so much, and yet his mother was stuck in these age old beliefs. He heard his mother calling him; reluctantly he got up, and went to the drawing room. Like a king, Guruji sat on the sofa, his mother at his feet; two disciples, in the same flowing orange robes, stood obsequiously behind the sofa, with small copper urns in their hands.

He went up to the Guruji, and bowed, and made an act of touching his feet. Guruji sensed the dislike, and scornfully looked at him.

�May your life be a thousand years!� Guruji blessed, but in a disdainful tone, this time. Kshitij looked up; their eyes met.

Suddenly, Guruji got up, in anger and stood there shivering!

�What happened, O Lord!� his mother exclaimed, fearing the worst.
�Beware, my child! Beware� Guruji was looking beyond them, as if speaking to his own self. �Beware!�

************************************************************************************

It was an unusually rainy day; the sky had been overcast since the previous evening, but the clouds emptied their sacks only in the morning. Cursing the bad weather, Kshitij drove towards Connaught Place, where he was to meet Madhuri for some shopping.

Parking his car at the designated parking slot, he walked towards the park in the center, sheltering himself inadequately with his hands, and stooping to minimize the impact of the water falling on him.

When he entered the park, and saw her, he nearly lost his breath.

Wearing a slim, chiffon white saree, with matching bangles, Madhuri stood shielding herself from the rain with a small pink umbrella. Her svelte figure, touched lightly by the rain, was looking ravishing. He rushed to her, and hugged her. Scared, she turned around, and the umbrella flew from her in a gust of wind.

�O, you brute� she said lovingly, �The umbrella has gone��
In the rain, he just hugged her and kissed her neck. The rain wet them, and felt tingling.
�You are beautiful� The water had seeped into the white saree, making it semi-transparent and he could see her contours with full detail.
Moving his lips from her neck, he traced it to her cheeks, her eyes, and her nose and finally started towards her lips. But Madhuri was quick to realize what he was up to. Immediately she put up her hand, to shield her lips, and his mouth touched her supple hands.
�Oh Madhuri. Please!� he pleaded, like a small child.
She gave out a naughty, childish laughter, and pushed him away. �No, my dear! Not before marriage; it is not right. And in any case, it is only a matter of one week��
Kshitij, who had been pushed back, just kept on looking at the curvaceous figure before him, in a wet white saree�

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The marriage procession reached the hotel with a lot of fanfare, music and dance. Vinit and Suraj were the fore-runners in the dance category. Kshitij was on the traditional white mare, decorated and royal.

Reaching the hotel, he got down off the mare, and was met by Madhuri�s uncle and aunt. After exchange of a small ritual, they all entered the marriage hall. Kshitij, tall and handsome in the traditional achkan, walked with excited steps.

Seated on the marriage pandal, the priest prepared for the ceremonies, by placing a whole lot of prayer stuff.

Turning to Madhuri�s uncle, the priest said, �The auspicious moment is passing; please bring the bride.�

As if on cue, immediately, a couple of Kshitij�s cousins rushed out, their bright shining dresses flowing behind them. Kshitij�s parents beamed with pleasure.

When Kshitij saw Madhuri coming in, he nearly fainted; wearing a dark red saree with detailed golden zari work, her head covered and eyes lowered, she was looking divine.

The marriage was solemnized in a customary manner!

The night had advanced with a lot of dance and music. Ultimately, the time came for them to take back the bride back home. At the hotel gate, Kshitij�s car, decorated with multitude of flowers, stood majestically. They waited for the priest to read out a few more mantras. Madhuri and Kshitij stood together, besides their respective guardians. The rest of the relatives were behind them, all of them solemn, at this bitter-sweet moment; on one hand a girl was leaving her home of many years; on the other, there was the happiness of a fresh union.

Madhuri�s uncle came forward and stood before Kshitij�s father. Joining his hands, and bowing meekly, he said �Daughters are as it is considered a stranger�s wealth! And Madhuri was never mine. She was always a responsibility that I loved to take care of. Now, she is in your hands. Please take care of her�

Before his father could speak, his mother, who was standing beside him, spoke, �Bhai Saheb, don�t worry. We shall keep her tenderly on our eyelashes. She is our only daughter in law, and we have had a lot of dreams for this occasion�

His uncle smiled, a tear looming up in his eyes, and turning towards Madhuri hugged her. She put her arms, full of jewels, around his neck and sobbed mildly.

�Beti, now that is your home; they are your parents. Please keep alive our traditions and culture, and do not give them any chance for complaint�

They proceeded to the car.

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Kshitij need not have been pushed; but he had to show some semblance of restraint. He was relieved that finally all the ceremonies were over; he looked forward eagerly to meet Madhuri, who was now in his room. His cousins pushed him into the room, and remarked jovially, �Don�t trouble our sister in law too much!�

He raised his hand in mock anger and all of them scurried away. Bolting the door behind him, he walked into the room. His bedroom was decked up like the bride itself. With a flower mesh surrounding the entire bedroom, and all the lights switched on, it was dazzling in its beauty. Two tall glasses of milk stood on the table beside the table.

Madhuri sat on the bed, her face veiled by the strong red pallu of her bright red saree.

Kshitij walked up to the bed, feeling a little nervous. �These girls are crazy�� he tried to speak, but felt silly, so just sat on the edge of the bed.

Madhuri shuffled shyly.

�Come on, Madhuri, let me see the moon-like face!�

He stretched his hand to raise the veil, but Madhuri shuffled back in the bed, touching the back; he just shook his head in impatience. Raising her hand, she picked up a glass of milk, and offered it to him.

�Have this!� she said, from behind the veil.

Grabbing the milk, he gulped it down in one go, and came forward, to again raise her veil. This time, Madhuri did not do anything, but allowed him to. Her face shone in the bright lights, and bordered by the dark red saree, her fairness was resplendent.

Before he could react at this dazzling beauty, he felt a sharp twinge in his body. Suddenly, before him, Madhuri started to shrivel, the pallu fell from her head, the saree loosened, and Madhuri disappeared.

Lying in the heap of the saree, was a snake!

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�Who are you?� He exclaimed, as he saw Madhuri�s form coming back. His face was pale with horror, and he stood rooted near the door, ready to bolt if need be.

Madhuri got off the bed, and with derision, anger and hate in her eyes, came forward.

�I am your Madhuri� she hissed. �I am a snake who can take human form, an ichchadhari naagin. Remember Nagarkot? You killed my mate callously. He was only basking there, and was doing you no harm; but you brutal human beings do not bother. I had to loose the vermillion of my life, cursed to be a widow because of your impatience. We, ichchadhari naag, reach this stage after thousands of years of penance and prayers. We were so happy, and all of it was obliterated by one act of yours. When any ichchadhari naag dies, his eyes capture the killer. I saw your photograph implanted there, and from then on, I vowed on my dead husband�s corpse that I shall avenge his death. When you saw all those snake delusions, they were not your imaginations, but it was me, who used to come in snake form to know of your plans so that I could meet you and make you fall in love with me. I could have killed you there and then also, but no, I wanted you to fall in love and realize what it means to lose one�s love!�

She edged forward, and he pushed himself into the closed door, as if he could merge into it and disappear. Words stuck in his throat, his eyes wide with terror!

�If I want I can kill you right now also� she smiled, a ridiculing smile! �But no, I shall not do that�because that would be a very small price to pay. You will live with a curse of having a snake for a wife.�

He turned to open the bolt of the door, but she lunged forward, clasping his hands. He recoiled in fear.

�Don�t you dare tell this to anyone. I shall not hesitate to poison your parents even; so if you want to see your parents alive, make note, no one should ever hear of this� She was close to him, her face a contortion of hate and scorn. �You will suffer me within these four walls always�alone and in pain�as I do, without my mate!�

He nodded, gulping the fear down his Adam�s apple.

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The next morning he came down from his room, in a daze, not knowing how he would pretend to be happy. The snake or Madhuri or whatever, was lying in the bed, sleeping peacefully. As he entered the drawing room, his mother, who was arranging flowers on the table, looked up and smiled.

�So you have woken up? I will just prepare breakfast for you. Where is bahu?�

�She is�� Before he could complete, he heard a rustle behind me. Turning sharply he saw Madhuri standing there, in a bright orange sari. He could have sworn that he had seen her sleeping when he left the bedroom, but realized that being an icchadhari snake, this woman just had to think up a form.

�I am here, maaji� she said, entering the room. She shoved him aside, and proceeded to his mother, while adjusting her pallu over her head. She bent down to touch his mother�s feet. As she bent down, she turned her gaze up; their eyes met; a wicked smile formed on her lips.

�Beti, look we are from a modern family. We do not believe in all this pallu vallu business. So please don�t be so formal.� With a kind hand, his mother removed the pallu from her head.

�And one more thing� his mother continued. �Here� Tucked on the waist to her sari, was a bunch of keys. She took them out and placed them in Madhuri�s hands.

�Now this responsibility is yours.�
�Ma- what are you doing�� he started to protest.
But the poor unknowing mother cut him short. �What do you know of all this? As it is I am getting old, the responsibility and burden of running this house is getting too much for me. I should be now spending time in praying and making my other life better. Bahu, you are now in charge of the house� She patted Madhuri with love, and turned to leave the room. Behind her, he saw Madhuri playing with the bunch of keys and looking at him, and smiling in victory.

The mother was about to leave the room, past him, when she suddenly stopped and turned. Immediately, Madhuri stopped the playing of the keys, and stood head bowed down respectfully. He marveled at the sudden chameleon like change.

�Arre, beti� I just realized� you have not worn the mangalsutra�

Flustered, Madhuri�s hand went up to the neck. She had not realized this.

�Beti, you should never leave the mangalsutra. These are not mere black beads. They have immense power in them; power of protecting your husband from all harms and evils. Go and wear it immediately�

A sudden thoughtful look came into Madhuri�s eyes; before she realized she was looking into the loving eyes of Kshitij�s mother. An immense flood of emotions swept her.

Kshitij shook his head in pain. Poor mother! Whom was she preaching the powers of Mangalsutra!

Madhuri rushed out of the room, a small lake of tears forming in her eyes. But his mother stopped her way. �My good child, now give me a sweet bonny boy who shall call me grandma� She kissed Madhuri�s forehead.

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The next two days were a pain for Kshitij; he tried hard to avoid Madhuri but could not. The last of the relatives who had come for the marriage had also departed. Alone, in the room, he slept on the sofa, unable to bear the thought of sleeping with a snake in the same bed.

Madhuri performed the act of a dutiful daughter in law with �lan; giving his father the daily dose of diabetes medicine; pressing the feet of his mother; entertaining the relatives; and, making the daily lunch also.

On third day, Kshitij fell ill. He could bear this any longer. The entire night he shivered in fever. His mother was worried; his father did not sleep; the entire household was in panic as the fever did not subside for the next three days.

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�Are you sure you will be ok?� Kshitij�s father asked. They were in their bedroom, a small suitcase lay there, with his clothes packed. �I can cancel the meeting at Mumbai?�
�No, no� said his wife, �you must go, else it will be a great loss to your business. I think I will be fine. Kshitij will recover soon�
His father hugged her. �If there is any emergency, just call me immediately.�
She nodded, sobbing lightly.
�I will just go and meet Kshitij before leaving�

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�O lord! Save my son from evil eyes� her mother clasped her hand, as she sat in the puja room.

Madhuri entered; she saw the look of fear in his mother�s eyes.

�Beti�come and pray with me. A married woman�s prayers are always answered faster than a mother�s. I am worried about Kshitij�s health�

Once again, Madhuri felt a strange surge within her. Despite her not wanting to, she found herself going and sitting with her husband�s mother. The genial old lady placed her head on her shoulders and started sobbing. �I hope nothing happens to my little Kshitij; he is our only support for the old age�

Madhuri wrapped her arms around the crying lady, and she looked at the stone idol of Lord Krishna with a great questioning look

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�I am fine, just leave� Kshitij told her. He disliked her presence, and pushed away the soup that she had brought. With immense pain he tried to sit up, and looked at the curtained window.
�Have some, it is good for your health� she implored.
�What do you care about my health? Just go away!�

His mother entered. �Don�t be rude to her� she scolded, �Have some soup, beta, please. Madhuri has so lovingly made it with her own hands.� Kshitij cringed at the thought.

The mother walked to the window, and parted the curtains, letting the sunlight flow in with gaiety. As she did so she spoke, �Madhuri, beta, you go and rest now, as it is you have not slept the entire night tending to Kshitij�

Kshitij looked sharply at Madhuri, and wondered at what this chameleon like personality was up to now.

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�I am fine, mom, I just want to take a small walk. It will do me good, I am sure� he said. After almost a week in bed, he was getting a bit agitated. He also needed some time to think on his own. The past few days Madhuri had acted very strangely; in fact, as if she had had a complete changeover. He could not fathom what this could mean.

�As you wish, son� his mother sighed, seeing the resolute look in his eyes.

She continued to read her Geeta, sitting in the puja room. Outside, she heard a booming voice.

�Alakh Niranjan!�

A smile came up her room. Guruji was paying a visit. Quickly raising the Geeta to her head, she respectfully touched it with her forehead and placed it down on the designated place. Getting up, she went to meet Guruji, pulling her saree pallu up on her head.

Guruji was as usual with his two disciples. Blessing her, he asked if all was well.

�No, Guruji. There is nothing right here. Kshitij has not been keeping well for the past one week. I don�t know what to do?�

Guruji nodded, understandingly. His eyes darted around the room, and his long hair bobbed as he nodded his head.

At length, he spoke, in an ominous tone. �This house has a shadow of a snake!�
Kshitij�s mother looked up sharply. �Oh my God! What are you saying?�
�The truth, my child�
�Yes, yes, even Kshitij used to have visions of snakes a few days prior to his marriage�
�You must conduct a prayer immediately. I shall pull out the effect of the snake�

What Guruji did not tell her was the fact that he had realized the presence of Madhuri as that of a snake. But, for him it made no difference whether she stayed or not. All he wanted was to take Madhuri with him so that he could find the precious jewel that belonged to such ichhadhari snakes; if he gained that he would obtain and gain immense powers; the powers of wealth, health and knowledge; the powers to rule this world.

�Is Kshitij home? His wife? Your husband?�
�My husband has gone to Mumbai for a tour. Kshitij has gone out for a walk. His wife is there�
�No problem! I shall start the puja(prayer) immediately. You will have to go out of the room while I do this puja.�
�And Madhuri?�
�Oh, she is a new member; why disturb the new bride� he just waved it off. �It will make no difference to the puja if she stays in the house�
�As you wish, O Lord!� The mother touched his feet again, and got up to leave the room. On leaving, she closed the door behind her.

Inside, Guruji called over his two disciples and beckoned them to begin the puja. Sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, he took out a long musical instrument, the been, and raised his hand ordering the other two to do the same. Placing the been on his mouth, he started playing it, at the same time, he recited complex mantras in his mind.

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She heard the strains of the been coming inside the room. With fear she dropped the magazine that she was reading. She understood the impact of the music. �Kshitij�you have called a tantrik to ensnare me, you shall pay dearly!�

She pressed her hands on her ears, trying to vitiate the impact of the sound. But as the mantras of Guruji arose, so did the volume emanating from the three instruments. She felt a kind of intoxication rising in her body. Her eyes became wet. She felt as if she was going into a deep sleep, and resisted the impulse. Her eyes smarted, as they turned into a sky blue color.

Without realizing what was happening to her, she decided she had to fight. She could hear the mantras being said, and also realized the thrust of them; they were to gain her jewel. This tantrik was a thief!

The sounds arose further. Resolutely, she changed into her traditional snake-woman�s white dress and opened the door, to face the evil genius.

When she came down, Guruji�s eyes shone with delight and greed. He would now get her, and the jewel, and rule this earth.

The music flowed from the instrument, as if it pored out from every artifact, every furniture, and every window of the room. She danced and sang to avoid the effect that the music the piping instrument was having on her. By cupping her hand above her, she tried to do a human form of the snake and hurt the tantrik; but he was stronger, and resisted the overtures.

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When Kshitij came back, he heard loud noises coming from inside his house. He saw his mother standing by the gate, with a deep worrying look in her eyes He rushed to her.

�What�s happening? What are these voices?�
�Guruji is performing a puja inside� she explained. �He says that there is a shadow of snake in our house, and he is going to remove it�
�Oh my God!� exclaimed Kshitij. A sharp fear rushed through his mind. Now, Madhuri will think that I have called this man and she will kill my family. �What have you done mom!� He screamed and ran the short drive way to the house.
His mother called behind him, stopping him, but by then he was almost opening the door.

When he stepped inside the drawing room, he was shocked to see the scene before him. In a white dress that he had never seen, Madhuri was swaying in front of the three orange robed men, her hand placed above her head in a snake like formation, her eyes large and blue.

�Stop it� he shouted. His mother came rushing behind him.

At the sound of his voice, the tantrik�s concentration broke, and the other two also stopped the music immediately. Guruji turned sharply and looked at Kshitij with immense hate.

Madhuri, suddenly freed from the net of the music, turned viciously towards Kshitij. His mother who pushed her son aside to look into the room, stopped short in stupor seeing the ferocious snake like look of Madhuri.

Her blue eyes flashing, Madhuri hissed, �You are dead, Kshitij�

She lunged forward to bite him, but at that very moment, in a flash, his mother came in front of Kshitij as a shield, and Madhuri�s teeth gnashed into the lady�s plump soft arms. The lady let out a scream of pain as the needle like teeth dug into her arm and she felt a hot liquid injecting into her veins.

Realizing what had happened, Kshitij held his slumping mother so that she did not fall onto the floor. Placing his mother tenderly on the floor, he turned towards Madhuri, who was standing taken aback at what she had done. With a long swing of his arms, Kshitij gave a tight slap on her face that sent her reeling.

�You bitch! You have killed my mother! You might have wanted to take revenge from me, but by doing this you have done the same sin that I am suffering from!!!�

The three tantriks had gathered around, as Kshitij rushed to pick his mother, and placed her unconscious head on his lap.

�We shall perform�� started Guruji.

Hysterically, Kshitij shouted, �Just get lost�this has happened because of you. Just get out!� He hugged the mother, and started crying uncontrollably.

With the slap, Madhuri had fallen a little far off, but the effect of the music was completely worn off; her eyes had returned to the normal black color, and with horror she now realized the effect of her act.

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The antiseptic smell of the hospital was nauseous to him. He frantically paced the corridor, as one after the other doctors and nurses flitted in and out of the room, attending to his dying mother. With great difficulty he had managed to bring her to the hospital. He also decided against calling his father, as it would worry him a lot.

At last, Dr Chadha came out, removing the plastic gloves from his hands. He looked solemn.
�Doctor?�
�We have done our best. The rest is all in His hands� he raised his eyes towards the heavens. �Sometimes prayers help more than the medicines. The poison was too much for her frail body, I have tried to take out as much as I can�in any case, today�s night is very crucial, if she survives this night, she shall live on!� He patted Kshitij�s shoulder and walked away.

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The temple was at a short distance from the hospital. A marvelous architecture in white marble, it stood with all sides open, a typical petered dome at the top. At night, there was no devotee; the priest had gone off to his quarters for rest. Climbing the stairs of the temple, Kshitij felt tears rolling off his eyes. He dreaded the fact that his mother might not be any more; though living in the USA for the past two years, he was tied too strongly to her. Small incidents kept running past his memory.

Reaching the main hall of the temple, he rang the overhanging bell with force, as if willing the Gods to wake up.

He walked towards the lone white marble statue of Lord Shiva in a trance like cross legged posture.

�God� he blurted out. �I have not been a good devotee; I have sinned. I have not come to your house ever. And now you would be very happy to have beckoned me in this manner. You have won, God, I have lost, and bow myself before you. Even if I have sinned, why are you giving the penance of my sins to my mother? She is not to be at fault. She knelt before you every morning and evening. Why is she being given this treatment? Why is she lying on that hospital bed for no wrong of hers? People say that you are the Ultimate Judge, you never go wrong in your Judgement. You are always Right. Then, why is my mother lying there writhing in pain? Why has your judgment failed this time? It seems that living in these posh marbles stones, even your heart has become of a stone. Lord, if you really are the Lord of Lords, if you really care for your devotees, you will have to stand up today; You will have to come to my help. You will have to treat my mother. And if you do not do this, then the meaning of your existence will go off; no one will come and pray at this holy abode ever! You shall be shunned by mankind. Wake up! Wake up!! Or I shall hit my head on this very stone and kill myself� He shouted, �Wake up God!!!�

He knelt down and started to hit his forehead on the stone foot of the idol.

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The sudden beep of the instrument panel woke the nurse up. With amusement she looked at the fervent activity there; the patient lay calmly, but her eyes were fluttering open. In surprise the nurse let out a small cry, and rushed to the phone lying beside the bed.

�Doctor, please come in� she said excitedly. �It�s a miracle, here�

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A strong lightening cracked outside the temple; it was followed by thunder and a strong gust of wind that shook all the bells on the ceiling; they rang with a loud clang! The lamps lighted in front of the idol flickered but did not die away. A strange light emanated from the idol, and he stopped his beating, and looked up. The eyes of the idol were shining. The storm had passed away. He felt strong warmth enveloping him.

Bowing down, he smiled; blood and tear mixed on his cheek. He folded his hand, and rushed out of the temple.

Before he could enter his car, a strong light caught him. It was coming from a jeep that had swerved to a sharp stop in front of him. Shielding his eyes from the sharp light, and cursing the driver in his breath, Kshitij started to walk towards the driver�s seat of his car.

�Stop there, man!� A gruff voice called out.

In front of the beaming headlights of the jeep, he saw a tall burly figure standing, the legs wide apart, and the hands on the hips.

�Who are you?�
�Baba!� the voice said, the arm rubbing the stubbled chin menacingly. �I was looking for you for some days. Now I have found you. No one goes unrepentant after hurting Baba.�

Kshitij recognized the ruffian from Kasauli. But he was in no mood for an argument.

�Baba, my mother is in hospital; we shall settle scores some other time, I have to go� He turned away. But Baba leapt forward, blocked his way and landed him a sock on the jaw that sent Kshitij reeling down by the side of his car.

�When Baba says today, he means right now! Perhaps you should actually be with your mother in the hospital, but on the operating table� The man said, rubbing his fist, as if itching to hit out again.

Kshitij tried to regain his balance; as he did, he saw five more figures coming out of the jeep, with hockey sticks and chains in their hand. He knew he was caught.

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In the ensuing fight, Kshitij tried best to retain control, but soon realized that he singularly he was no match for these six bastards with hockey sticks and chains. As all six of them rounded him to beat him, he suddenly heard a siren and a scream.

Looking up with as much consciousness he had, he saw a rush of khaki clad policeman rushing out of a Gypsy; besides them was Madhuri, who had let out the scream.

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When Kshitij opened his eyes, his head felt heavy. He was lying in a familiar place. He tried to get up, but a sharp pain ran in his head, and he just slopped back. Soon, he fell asleep again.

He had a nightmare; his mother was dead. He woke up with a start! This time, he managed to seat himself up. He was in his own bedroom. Madhuri sat across the room, on a chair, with a magazine open face down on her lap.

His throat felt like hot sandpaper; and very dry. Noticing a glass of water on the bedside table, he raised his hand, but in his weakness, dropped the clock standing there; it read half past three; judging from the look, it was late in the night.

The clatter of the falling clock woke up Madhuri. Seeing his need, she rushed to the glass, picked it up and placed gently on his lips. He gulped it greedily.

�What happened? Where is mom? How is she?�
Placing the glass back, and going to her chair, Madhuri sat down and smiled. �Mom is fine, but still in hospital. You have been unconscious for the past two days.� Then, lowering her eyes, she said. �I am sorry, Kshitij. All this has happened because of me.�

�I..I..� he had a difficulty in speaking. �I don�t understand!�

�Kshitij, it is true that I came here to take revenge of my mate. But after marriage to you, and seeing your mother�s love for you, strange thoughts started coming to my mind. The keys, the mangalsutra, your falling sick�I don�t why, but I was drawn towards it. I started enjoying this game of playing a housewife; it was so peaceful; so lovely; so pleasant. That day, the tantrik had tried to ensnare me; I had thought you had called him deliberately. But, believe me I did not want to kill your mother; leave alone your mother, I was not inclined to kill you even. It was just an animalistic primal fear that made me sting. Your slap made me realize that perhaps you had also killed my husband in that same fear. Maybe I was actually getting into the same sin; whereas, you had done it unknowingly; my thirst for revenge was pushing me into this deep abyss of sin knowingly. I hated myself. The Lord had given me this form not for taking revenges, but to help mankind. And here, I was destroying a loving and caring household for my petty gain. And what gain? By destructing you, my dead husband is not going to come back He is dead and gone, and the past.� She smiled through her tears. �In this playacting of a housewife, I became a housewife truly. After all, in this entire farce I understood that I had actually taken the seven pheras with you, I had kept the karva chauth for you, I wore the mangal sutra for you�then where did my revenge stand. It just flew out with the wind. Kshitij�in all this, I have actually started loving you, and your kind heart, and your immense love for your mother. When I realized this, I rushed to the hospital to tell you this, but by the time I reached, you were already going to the temple. There I saw your prayer, and then Baba�s fight. I called the police, to save you, and perhaps atone for the injustice that I had inadvertently done to you!� She crept out of the chair and leaned by his bedside. Tears were streaming down her eyes. Taking her hand in his, she cried, �Please forgive me! Please!!�

Without wanting to Kshitij felt a surge of love rising in his body? He felt the same love for her as he had felt before the marriage. Raising his hand, he placed it on her head. She looked up, smiled through the tears and held his hand strongly.

�Alakh Niranjan!� A voice boomed out from below.

Kshitij frowned. �What is the Guruji doing here at this time?�
Immediately she withdrew from Kshitij and got up. �Perhaps the time for me has come to go, now!�
�Madhuri�� Kshitij cried out.
�Kshitij, I am a snake, we cannot live together. That you have forgiven me is the best gift that I can ever get in any of my lives. I must go now. The Guruji is here to take me; I know what he is after�but I have no use for it either�
�What is he after?�
�My mani (jewel) that is embedded deeply into my hood (when I am in a snake�s body).I know it will kill me, if he takes it out forcefully, but I have lived my life twice over now�first with my husband, now with you. Good bye, Kshitij�
�No Madhuri�I cannot allow you to go� he implored.
�Please understand�our union is not possible. Good bye� she said quickly and walked out of the room.

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She walked down the stairs and eyed the haughty Guruji.

�So, at last I have caught up with you, eh? Now you realize my powers�
She smiled mockingly. �Don�t be arrogant, fool. You are a learned man, I respect you for that, but don�t think I have come at your call. I have come because my work is finished here�

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Images upon images of Madhuri rendered his mind. He could not allow her to go. Quickly getting up, he winced at the pain, but brushed it aside and followed her. But, she was already getting into the car. He decided to follow her in his own.
************************************************************************************

He was shocked to see his beautiful Madhuri in this disheveled state. Guruji was performing a prayer on the holy fire, and Madhuri was sitting before him, her face wet with perspiration, and contorted, her long black hair open and in disarray. He stood rooted in shock as a bright light formed on Madhuri�s forehead in form a strong diamond. Guruji�s eyes were closed in concentration, and his lips murmured the mantras. Soon, the diamond fell off her forehead, onto the ground. Madhuri fell down unconscious, her breath coming fits and spurts. Guruji opened his eyes, his lips carving into a triumphant smile. He picked it up, glanced it with a strange look of power and arrogance.

�Stop!� Kshitij called.

Guruji turned in shock; in doing so, the diamond fell from his hands onto the fire. Immediately the fire leapt up to the sky; there was a loud thunder, a flash of lightning. The heavens broke up in a loud noise.

�You fool�� Guruji called. �This mani cannot stand fire!� Desperately, he tried to retrieve it from the fire, but Kshitij had leapt forward and kicked him straight on the chest, sending the Guru sprawling on the floor.

Guruji�s hand groped in the darkness; another flash of lightning revealed what he needed: his trishul(trident). The fire was gobbling up the mani, in loud flames.

Picking up the trishul, he charged towards Kshitij, who backed out at the last second, sending the Guru hurtling down on the floor again. But, despite his age, the Guru was sharp, and recovered quickly. Turning, he lunged again, this time his trishul hitting the arm of Kshitij. Kshitij let out a sharp cry of pain, and pulled it out, and kept it straight on the rock beside him. Leaving him in pain, the Guru again went to the fire, which was now blazing in fury. The heat woke up Madhuri, who staggered to her feet, in a semi-dazed state.

Kshitij knew he had to act fast; ignoring his body�s call for rest, he jumped up, and pulled the guru down by the robe. The Guru who still had the trishul in his hand, charged him with it, and pinned him down and started to strangulate Kshitij. Just then, he felt a strong hand on his neck; turning his face, he saw Madhuri standing there�fire burning in her eyes�her hair flowing�she looked like Durga.

�You? You are not dead as yet!� He called out. With his one hand keeping the struggling Kshitij down, the Guruji started waving his other hand and uttering a mantra.

�No Guruji�you cannot kill me today. You have not realized the power of a married woman. This sindoor (vermillion) and mangalsutra has lot of power; once it comes on its own, the biggest of devil cannot withstand its force. Even Lord Yamraj had to once bow down before the power of a married woman; you are but a human being�
�Arre, naagin�you are teaching me lessons of womanhood! Don�t forget you are just a snake�don�t give me this foolish preachings�I shall ruin you!�
�You are already ruined. My mani is burnt�and I shall live without it too. Because, I am on the side of truth today� With this she jumped forward and hit him with her knee. This freed Kshitij, who soared up in one neat jump, and kicked the saint on the shin. The act gave out a sharp pain in his arm, and he doubled up as well.

However, Madhuri, who was charged and angered, hit out the sprawled Guruji. In doing so, her foot caught in her saree, and she fell. Seeing his chance again, the Guruji lunged forward towards Kshitij, who side stepped, and the large orange robed body of Guruji fell onto the lying trishul that pierced through his abdomen. He fell down with a sharp cry.

The pain ran a million currents in his body; all darkness swept aside; a bright light caught his eye.

Madhuri rushed to the Guruji, and saw him going down, blood gushing out from the place where the trident had entered.

�Guruji, please, let�s rush to the hospital�

Bewildered, and with lot of effort, Guruji turned to her. �I have tried to ruin your life, and you are now asking to save mine�� He spoke in fits.
�The man that was trying to destroy my life was your arrogance. I am trying to save the life of the man who is very learned and whom the world needs�
Shame swept Guruji. �No, my child. My time has come. I can see it. The gods beckon me now� He cried out in pain. Kshitij and Madhuri tried their best to place him in comfort. �O Lord!� continued the Guruji. �If I have ever done even one thing correct in this sinful life, then please make Madhuri into a normal human being, so that she can enjoy marital bliss with Kshitij; and may all forget that she ever was a snake, including Kshitij�s mother�� With a loud gasp, his soul left for the heavenly abode.

A strong thunder clapped from the distance; the sky broke up for a ray of bright light to descend.

Suddenly, Madhuri felt an upheaval within her�the snake form was leaving�she could feel it go�

************************************************************************************

�Enjoy yourself, my children!� she said, as they bowed to touch her feet. �And try to come back soon�
They were at the airport. In the past week, Kshitij�s mother had recovered well. All she remembered was that she had fell from the stairs. The doctors thought so too. And Kshitij�s memory of the entire two days was wiped off as well. Madhuri did remember, but she was not telling anyone. She was a pure woman now, and could bear Kshitij�s children; the thought made her happy.

�And when you come back next�my gift should be a moon like sweet grandson!�

THE END

The Riot- Concluding Part
"Saagar I am amazed" she said indignantly." How can you justify the killings of one set of people by other. I was nearly killed there when you just drifted away "

Their voices were no longer in whispers. It was loud and ringing, and it echoed in the empty room .

" Come on Farzana. Muslims are known to be plunderers right from the time of history"

His voice was rising like his anger. She could feel her cheeks redden too. What nonsense!! she thought.

" Dont forget Ikram saved your life "

" Yeah big shit!! From a school child who was carrying a knife! Is that what is taught in these madrasas? to kill?"

" Go to hell.. your ingratitude is amazing. I never realised you could be so callous"

" And what are you showing"

" Its all because you dont want to submit to the fact that this country should have been of us. You people demanded for a separate country, and got it, and still languish here in stink and stench and owe your allegiance there only"

" You are impossible.." She got up, and started to leave. " You only want to rule...thats why you married me too..thinking that you could rule over me also"

Her voice was sharp and cruel. It hurt him. To her , his voice grated.

" Just shut up" he said and turned his face away.

He could feel his breath rising. What was this woman talking about. All along he had read of how the Muslim rulers had invaded the country, looted it of its wealth, plundered the nation. They did not belong here also. Why was she talking some nonsense.

" Everytime, a Muslim does something wrong, its right and secular" he carried on, his voice steely with rage.. " And when we do something it becomes communal. Bah!"

She just got up and went out of the room, without replying.

He was left alone in the dark room.

**************************************************

" Ishwar, its two days now. The press is not talking kindly. Can we stop this now? "

Gupta looked at him straight, but immediately retracted back, seeing the wily brown eyes.

" You sweet idiot" smiled Ishwar. " What does the Press know. They have to write what is politically correct. I know of journalists who are happy , but can't write about it openly. And the Press votes hardly matter do they. Come on now, dont you see that the common Hindu votes, and he adores you, for helping this extortion. And dont worry, if my leather is saved, I will give you double the money for your electioneering. Now, stop worrying over silly little lives"

Ishwar spoke as if he was admonishing an errant child. They were in Gupta's office.

"Now my boy," continued Ishwar, his long fingers starting their drumming on the desk." Get ready for a press conference. And put on a sad face. Give the press what it wants. ANd give the people what they want." With a sudden sharpness he added, " ANd give me what I want"

**************************************************

Perhaps Saagar had dozed off, for he woke up with a start at a sharp sound somewhere in the outside. For a second he was not aware of his surroundings, and his eyes took some time to adjust to the dark room. He felt the hardness of the cemented floor on which he lay, and he got up with a jerk. His throat felt dry, a dull pain throbbed in his temple, and he could feel a low chilly wind, coming from the window just above him. He was all alone, and then consciousness seeped back into him. He had fought with Farzana, and she was no longer there any longer. What had transpired between them ran like a reel in his mind. Immediately he felt a faint sense of guilt, but as the conversation replayed in his mind like a gramophone record stuck in its groove, he felt his blood churling, and anger rising. He was never a staunch Hindu, in fact, he was a liberal, he even wished a many of his colleagues on Eids. That is why he had fallen for Farzana also. Religion was immaterial at that time. Yet, in his mind, somewhere deep down his sub-conciousness, ran the ghettoisation that is inadvertantly taught along with the alphabets in school and home. His mind raced to the small by lanes that he had been dragged to while being brought to this mosque. To him that was how Muslims lived, bordered off from the main society- living in dredge,poverty and dirt. He smelt the offensive stench of the pigs, the open drain running on both side of the narrow lane, filled with human faecia-a smell that mixed freely with the meat being cooked inside the houses in strong raw spices, to create an extremely pungent odor; he saw the stained, nose running faces of kids being pulled back by large breasted, women hiding their faces behind the burqa; their foul breath caught in the dirty fabric; men with stained teeth , eating unfiltered cigarrettes. He abhored them, their sight, their smell, their loud gruff voices. His adrenalin rushed and he wanted to go out and hit all of them for killing those innocent sadhus travelling on a train back from a holy pilgrimage. He now understood the rage of that man with the sword, yes, he was one of them. That man also had a life , probably parents, a job and a wife too. But he was also on the streets for a cause....now Saagar realized how that gang came into existence. They were one of his brethren only. He belonged to them... His education was immaterial. His liberal outlook a farce that he had created around himself in his pseudo intellectual urban upbringing; that was a facade that was demolished by the riot. Saagar became a carnal force, ready to destroy, devoid of feelings, and for him now Farzana was a mere object that belonged in an enemy camp.

He had to get out of here. He had to leave this mosque. With a strong resolution he got up to leave, just as the door opened, and Ikram came in.

" How are you feeling?" asked Ikram. He carried a large aluminium glass filled with water, and offered it to Saagar.

Saagar kept quiet, and looked at the water with disdain. The glass smelled, perhaps of the breath of the previous user of the glass, it was a stale smell of meat and tobacco.

But the thirst got the better of him, and he gulped the water, which soothed his parched throat.

"They know you are a Hindu" explained Ikram on his own.

Saagar hated him for this. He was not scared by a bunch of uncouth hooligans. Was this a threat? Or a friendly advise ?

"Outside there are a bunch of them standing pelting the mosque" explained Ikram. "They will go soon. They are only a few and we are at least fifty"

Another sharp noise. So thats what had woken up Saagar- an altercation.

" I have to go now" said he rudely and walked out of the room.

The room outside was also a bare hall, with inscriptions from the Quran on the light green walls. It was filled with men ready for action.

He heard the shouts outside, and went past a few
to the forefront.

At the front gate, a Muslim was there with a gun ready to shoot, and smiling. " You bastards" he shouted. " Go away ".

Beyond him he saw two Hindus, throwing a stone. One of them was hit by the bullet. Saagar was aghast.

Suddenly he heard someone speak, " There's the Hindu husband of Farzana sister"

Sharply h e turned away and ran with his head low to the back entrance, pushing a few surprised men , and stepped out into the cold night .

At the entrance stood Farzana.

Their eyes met. Her round fair face showed the remains of the track where the tears had rolled down freely. Her dupatta hung loosely around her head and a few nasty naughty strands of hair peeped out and bordered her expressive visage like a dark cloud around the moon.

He stepped towards her furtively.

**************************************************

The next morning , on the radio, they heard that the curfew was on at Shakirapur for another day but was lifted in the evening. The market place was abuzz with news, activity and gossip. There were a few incidents of Muslims taking to street, but the police were taking things into their hand. Perhaps the mad rush was subsiding at most of the place.

However at one place activities were at a tense situation. It was a mosque holding a Muslim wife to a Hindu husband, who was now at the Laxmi Narayan temple, just half a kilometer away.

**************************************************

"You have to tell where that bastard is" shouted the man, across the thin muslin curtain.

Farzana backed away in a shudder. Her night had been of terror, of a vague realisation that she had married the wrong man. His intense vulgur display last night in the cold room had left her very weak, very sad, very exhausted. This was her clan, her own, who would protect her.

Farzana sat in the women section of the building separated by the men by the curtain. They were now in the Maulvi's residence just behind the mosque. Last night after her fight with Saagar, she had rushed out of the room and cried on the inn keeper wife's shoulder. She was comforted.

"You have sinned by sleeping with that man" continued the man. " God is giving you the chance to atone your wrongs. This is the holy month of Ramzan, give him up and ask the Lord for forgiveness"

When had she last bowed down to say her Nammaaz, she could not recall. She was never trained for that, nor did her parents insist on this. For her Id was just another festival, like the Diwali, for shopping and fun. Her cosmopolitan upbringing had always challenged traditionality. She was the only daughter of a member of the Foreign Services. She had travelled to many foreign locations with her father, and in the long run adapted an open culture, which also included going to the Church with her school friends at some of the postings of her father. Her education in computer was her only obsession. For her religion was just a column in most of the Govt forms that she had filled while searching for a job.

But last night she realised she had been perhaps wrong. Her religion was like the birth mark on her chin, a furrowy mole which Saagar called her "Beauty Spot". She could not change that, nor her religion.

"Child, please understand, we have to stand united if we have to ever stay peacefully here in this land" said a voice. This was the inn keepers wife, sitting next to her, holding her in a motherly tender manner. She rested her head on the shoulders of the lady.

" For generations these Hindus have truncated our growth to surpress us ", the man continued. " As a result of which our quam ( clan ) has never grown up from poverty. It is their mean and vile way of ensuring their superiority over us. To keep us to the ground so that they can continue with their atrocities. They have to pay ."

His voice was loud, gruff and steely.

" And do you think your husband will leave you alone. Has he not left you all alone here. He does not care for you. Tell us, before he comes to some mischief. "

The tears that Farzana was trying to hold back broke the dam and gushed out with a severe force. Her body shook as she cried, wetting the blouse of the lady to whom she clutched with a child like intensity.

She started to speak but her voice failed her. She saw Saagar of last night.........., and she spoke.

**************************************************

" Look they are coming!!!!" shouted Hari Ram.

He was standing at the window. Saagar was just behind him .

Hari Ram was the man he had seen with the sword yesterday. And he was the one who had given him refuge in the temple. There were just the two of them here. The priest and other workers of the temple had already fled away.

"Look -she betrayed you" he spat in anger, and picked up his sword and fastened the gun to the belt. "Quick we have to rush out....and kill them on their turf"

He shut the iron gate of the temple and bolted it. Then he closed the second wooden door.

Saagar's eyes moistened as he saw the crowd down the street rushing towards the temple, their voices ringing out a crude war like noise.

He followed Hari Ram to the back yard, out into the courtyard where a large peepal tree stood. Outside was the back lane that led to the main road, where perhaps his car was still standing. He just wanted to run from this mad house to his car and drive away. And forget these two days forever.

" Hurry up, Saagar" urged Hari Ram. " Which way was the mosque ?"

**************************************************

It was early December but the sun shone relentlessly on Shakirapur that afternoon. Farzana stood on the outside of the courtyard, looking at the forlorn figure of Hari Ram racing on the tarred dusty road- a lonely mad man perhaps in search of a fight. She hated him, and everything that he stood for. With a firm resolve she just turned her back and watched the looming facade of the mosque, its crevices, the peeled off paint, the bricks peeping out of the plaster of paris, the stains on it...................................

"Saagar" she whispered to herself. " Why did this day happened? For what purpose, for what end? "

**************************************************

Noises echoed, the din of people, the clash of swords, the voices of pain, screams of death...Hari Ram, in his dark blue jeans and denim shirt with a saffron bandanna stood over him " She betrayed you"" She betrayed you"" She Betrayed YOU!!!!!!!"

He woke up with a start. Sweat trickled down his brows, and his breath was short and quick. It took some time for him to adjust to his surrounding. He was in a wooden floored room, on a soft and comfortable bed. On his right side , at a small distance away were French windows, curtained off by thick beige self-printed curtains. There was a small gap between the folds, and he noticed young daylight- the first few rays from the sun on the mountains beyond.

And then he looked beside him on the bed. Farzana was lying in a foetal position; asleep peacefully, a half smile on her face; the quilt wrapped neatly around her.

And he sighed with relief!!

It was all over. The nightmare had passed at Shakirapur. They were now in Nainital- safe and secure, and together.

The only witness to the nightmare was his white Santro car, which had a broken side windows, and a large many dents. But that was a small price to pay for what could have happened.

His mind replayed the scenes over and over again.
The night he left the mosque, he had met Farzana at the door step. Her eyes were filled with tears. All his anger had melted seeing the innocent look on her face, and without realising he had hugged her. It was at that time they had decided that it was no point in arguing with each other, but there was no escape from the madness also if they revolted. Hence, they decided to go to their respective camps and meet the next morning at the car.

To do this however, Saagar had to somehow kick off Hari Ram. And so to confuse him, Saagar decided to take Hari Ram out to the wilderness beyond the mosque and hit him at the appropriate time and run off.

However when he saw the mob coming to the temple for a while he thought that Farzana had actually betrayed him. Soon, he realised that the mob that had come to seige the temple had not even bothered to stop there. They just passed away as if their destination was someplace else. Farzana had not betrayed him. As she explained later, she had sent them on a wild goose chase to some outskirt place.

As Saagar was following Hari Ram , he managed to hit him on the neck, before they could reach the mosque, and run off to the car. Farzana was late. Nevertheless, he waited. He had nothing else to do. And like she promised, she came. And both escaped to Nainital.

Saagar pulled open the curtains, and opened the door. He inhaled the fresh morning breeze of the hills. The mountains beyond were verdant, cheerful and green.

Farzana stirred in her sleep.

He went to her, and took her in his arms.

" Farzana " he whispered. " I am sorry "

She murmured in her sleep, half opened her eyes, and slid into his arms with content.

" I am sorry, I thought you had almost betrayed me. I am sorry I mistrusted you" he whispered softly.

She smiled, and opened her eyes and looked at him fully. " Its ok...for a minute even I thought you had betrayed me... when I saw that man rushing to the mosque...."

"Its sheer madness that took over both of us"

" No it was a test from God...we just succeeded", and she closed her eyes again.

Outside, the day had broken out in its entirity, the birds chirrped their sonorous songs. The mountains washed by the dew stood witness to the lovers who snatched their faith and love from the dirty arms of hatred and animosity.

Love conquers all!!!!!!!!!!!

A STORY BY DEEPAK JESWAL
THE END

GUYS...IF U FOUND THIS GOOD.......WAIT FOR THE CLIMAX AND MANY MORE STORIES....REGARDS DEEPAK

THE RIOT... A SHORT STORY BY DEEPAK JESWAL...

All incidents, characters, township and portrayals are fictitious and purely a work of imagination. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. All views in the story are of the characters and not of the author.
This is a love story and not a comment on any religion and certainly not mine at all

When the night envelops the day in its dark, strong arms, the day submits itself like a beloved in her lover's arms....content and satisfied, they merge into oneness, that is fulfilling, enriching and fertile. On such a balmy evening, Saagar and Farzana, made soft silent love...the rustling of the sheets, the gentle sighs of Farzana, and the hot sweat of the naked bodies, echoed the quietness of the vast expanse of the fields outside. The sun had nearly set, and the redness spread over the azure sky like a veil on a shy woman's face. They were two lovers , like the night and day, meeting, mating in a dilapidated old inn on an expanse of arid country side. It was very quiet, very silent, very sensual evening.....the field spread into the vastness, and the sky bent over the earth, to touch its face over the horizon.................................

**************************************************

The train came to a screeching halt on Platform No 2 of Ghonth, a small hamlet on the border of the state. There was the usual clamour of the coolies trying to catch hold of the elusive customers. There were only a few that ever got off at the nearly forsaken station. And whoever did was instantly mobbed off by a dozen coolies.

" Just ten rupees, Sahib....will drop you till the tonga"..." Just eight rupees sahib...will arrange for tonga also". They shouted and cried, and pushed each other, and the lucky one grabbed the bag and started walking towards the exit, while the hapless customer just ran behind him.

A tea vendor - cum - rustic burger seller screamed his product in a sing-song manner, hitting the iron stove with his ladel. A passenger hollered from the front bogey, and the vendor started his rushing, pushing aside any one who came his way.

A lady argued for the exact change with the magazine seller. A group of sadhus suddenly started to chant the name of the Lord Rama, accompanied by the dholak, and manjira (a ringing bell kind of instrument ). It was a clutter at the station, whenever a train stopped here, which was few and far between. There was noise and more noise.

The station itself was a small one, built by the British as a r resting inn cum shelter for the labor that they took to the North Western Frontier ( now in Afghanistan) for the cultivation of poppy. Now it was a dirty, dusty town that just went about its existence in a non committal manner like India's many towns.

On this day, however, there was something unusual. Something cruel that lurked. The noise and clutter housed an evil undercurrent. A group of men, in short beard, were standing with some odds and end, at the corner of the station, all of them chanting Allah in a low hypnotic tone.

The train rang its shrill whistle, cutting into the din like a knife into the heart of a man. The train grunted, and started to roll out of the station.

Suddenly the group standing on the corner gave a loud roar. With an animalistic energy, they rushed towards the train, their arms waving, brandishing swords and knives and hockey sticks. A few carried gallon cans. Three of them jumped onto the engine, and pushed the driver aside. The rest entered Coach No AS2, third from the engine. The sadhus, who were still chanting the name of the Lord, were taken aback.

" You bastards, you shall pay for harming us" screamed one from the gang. The sadhus pushed to get to the door, but were obstructed. Outside, everyone was paralyzed by the sudden outburst. Two robust young men, with beards, kept vigil with fire in their eyes. None of the bystanders on the station dared to come near.

The fanatics inside poured kerosene and petrol from the cans on the sadhus, who tried to resist, but in vain. They were all cramped in the small coach, and the door was blocked, they tried to resist, and push, and hide beneath the seats. Some entered the toilet on the far end. Others knocked to be let in. The shower of petrol continued, on all of them, on seats, on windows. And there was swish, a match was lighted.

" You Bastard you shall die...Allah o Akbar" screamed the mob, and threw the match on the seat. A fire leaped and ran through the cabin like a swift snake. They jumped out of the door, and closed it from outside. As the flames came up, passengers from other coaches also clambered out and ran out of the station. There was a rush, an exodus.

There were screams, shouts, cries as the Sadhus, tried to break open the door, climb out of the iron-grilled windows.....they burnt, roasted....
the mob kicked at the burning bogey, and shouted " Allah Be Great" and ran out of the station....nameless bunch of hooligans, lost to the wilderness from where they came.

The flames leapt into the evening, like a dragon trying to eat into the sky also. The redness mixed with the setting sun....the screams cut across the sky into the setting darkness. Futile, Fervent and Frustrated....

**************************************************

His steps echoed on the marbled floors of Raj Bhawan, as he walked swiftly towards the cabin on the far end. He was tall, with long strides, and his hands trembled as they held a facsimile page.

With a quick jerk he opened the door. A huge mahogany table covered most of the opulent room, decorated with portraits of Mahatma Gandhi, and other freedom fighters.

The occupant of the desk looked up in surprise.

" Ishwar--" he started to speak, but broke off, seeing the ashen face of his visitor.

Ishwar threw the fax pages on the table, and screamed " Have you seen this, Gupta?"

Gupta picked up the ruffled sheets with his podgy hands, and read through the fax. It was a long press release, in fine single space , with no breaks. Gupta was in his late fifties, had shrewd cunning eyes, enveloped by large round plastic spectacles; a thick nose that towered over dark puckered lips, black with the smoke of the Gold Flake that he smoked non stop. His fat body fit snugly into the comfortable leather seat, and could have made use of more space, it it had been available. His eyes darted through the page in swift fox like movement, and after reading it through he let out a small whistle.

" Bastards they are!!!" he exclaimed. The fax was a brief account of the Gothra Burnings. " When did this happen?"

" One hour back probably" replied Ishwar.

" They should be hanged for this"

Ishwar looked at his Chief Minister curiosly. " Are you a fool?"

Gupta took the remark with affront. Ishwar was a power crazy man who made or break ministers. His clout in the political circles was strong. As a leading man of various industries, policies were formed or destroyed to suit his needs, and some for his whims. No political party ever denied any access to him. And they all owed their tenure, and the easy comfort thereon, to Ishwar Chandra. Prone to some nasty language, many bore with him for their ulterior interests. And for Gupta, his entire power centre lay on the fulcrum of Ishwar. If the latter so much as swayed, Gupta would be out. So, Gupta kept quiet, and stared blankly at his mentor.

" Dont you see the opportunity in this? " spat out Ishwar.

" Opportunity?" mumbled Gupta

" Yes...create riots buddy. Kill Muslims from Hindus....and I shall provide the weapons and means. Destroy the entire leather industry of the Muslims in this"

" But...." interrupted Gupta

" Dont you see? The elections are there round the corner. You need the Hindu votes. They can be won only this way. Are you blind to this ? "

Gupta was not blind to this. But he was not a fool also. He saw much more. Ishwar's tannery was facing trouble from the nouveou riche Muslims settled from Dubai and Kuwait. And he needed to destroy them, if he wanted his monopoly on the leather trade. He hated Ishwar. He hated that long mean face, the nasty brown wolfish eyes, the never ending arms, that lay sprawling on his desk, and the long fingers that were drumming on the polished mahogany desk. Ishwar sat contended, looking at Gupta's timid fat face, like a child enjoying an ant trapped in a glass. Like the ant, Gupta could only get up, move feverishly from one end to another, but could not escape. Ishwar had too many secrets with him that could put Gupta in jail forever.

The fingers drummed... a dull drone. Gupta walked towards the window, and looked out into the night. It was early winter, the sun had set early. There was a soft cool breeze outside. But he could not feel it, the window was barred. It never opened; he had tried it a couple of times.

Turning back with a sigh, Gupta picked up the black receiver of his telephone.....

**************************************************

" I did not switch off the fan before leaving home"

Saagar was just drifting into the no-man's land of sleep, when he woke up with a jerk at Farzana's voice. They lay together in the night, with just a small squeak of the fan overhead interrupting the quietness in a dull rhythm. Both were naked, her arms around his torso, her head lying on his arms, which wrapped around her. Without thinking or aknowledging, his hand was caressing the soft silkiness of her arms.

" How unromantic Fazu....." he complained. " How did you think of the fan just now?"

" Just like that.It just came in my mind"

In the distant, somewhere very far off, a group of village women were singing a folk song in a tuneless dull chorus.

" I love you "

" You really know how to jump topics!" He said, kissing her head.

" And I am hungry..."

" Hungry for what......" he teased.

" You naughty doggy " she hit him mockingly on the hairy chest.

Saagar and Farzana were on their honeymoon. The past one month had been tiresome. There were rituals, celebrations, parties. And finally the entire night of marriage ceremonies which had left both exhausted. So after resting for a day at Delhi, they were now out to Nainital for a holiday. On the way, while driving, a strange sexual undercurrent had passed through them, which neither could resist. So they had stopped at this nearly broken down inn, off the highway. They were on their own, and no hurry to reach anywhere. Their love making had been rough and smooth at the same time, an intense longing that was getting fulfilled after two years of courtship, parental opposition and finally the marriage. Parental opposition as they both belonged to two different religious community. But the parents of both were ultimately mature enough to understand that Saagar and Farzana could not make any meaningful relationship with any one else. Hence they gave in. Moreover, both the families belonged to the upper middle class strata of society where religion was just a few rituals on festivals. Otherwise, God was an entity that had succumbed to money , business and other more necessary items of life .

Shakipura was not a town, it was more of a village with some shops strewn on a broken down Main Road, some kilometer inside from the National Highway. As the shops ended was the Rest In Hotel, a ramshackle of a building, shady to the core. But it added to the nature of adventure when the two love birds stopped there.

Saagar squeezed Farzana in his strong arms, and felt contented, loved and fulfilled.

" Dinner ? "

Farzana nodded.

Together, they dressed and walked down the stairs to the main lobby.

The lobby was dimly lighted with a couple of bulbs that bathed the room in a dull yellow light. The manager who had met them stood in front of the dark brown reception desk. The carpet below was worn out, and was also brown in color. The room was a cramped one. Apart from the reception desk there was one Rexine Sofa, two arm chairs surrouding a dirty stained glass table.

" Hello sir" said the obsequious manager.

" Chacha ( uncle ) , dinner ? " asked Saagar.

The manager, a man in his mid forties, with speckled face that told the story of measles long time back, smiled. He had long teeth, that protruded from his face. He wore a traditional Muslim dress.

" We dont have a restaurant here. But the wife was just preparing dinner , you could join us "

" No no---" started Saagar

" Arre mian, have it no. Its pure, we have both just broken our Ramazan. And will be delighted to have you two. "

Farzana blushed. She had never in her life kept the holy fast of Ramazan.

" Chacha, tell Farzana to be a devout too" teased Saagar.

" ANd you , sir?" questioned the manager, Ikram Bhai.

" He is Hindu" said Farzana. She was now used to this sort of questioning.

Ikram Bhai smiled beningly. " Come on in, do join us. Its simple lentils and bread. In any case, all the shops have closed down in Shakirapur, you wont find anything else. "

Saagar and Farzana looked into each other eyes, and both read consent in the others.

Together, they entered the door just behind the reception desk, which housed the residence of the owner Ikram Bhai.

The dinner was light and well cooked by the demure burkha clad wife of Ikram. They were amused at the love story of the two. Both enjoyed every moment of the evening.

It was the night of love..........and hatred was just a corner away...........

**************************************************

The riots broke out in the entire state simultaneously. No one knew how or when, but just about everyone was ready to kill his neighbour, provided he was of the opposite religion. It was as if some epidemic had swooped on the sanity of mankind, which made them thirsty of the blood of another man. There were rapes, killings , looting , arsonery and abuse. Blood flowed easily than water. There was no mercy, no hope. Children and women had no consideration. The mob just went from house to house, in their satanic mission killing and kicking and abusing.

And they reached Shakipura in the afternoon.

In fact it reached there a little before, when Saagar was dressing. He had switched on the 14' television provided in the so called " De luxe" room. The buttons were all broken down, and there was no name of the manufacturer visible on the set. The remote was equally ancient , with the figures nearly invisible due to excessive usage.

It was there on the news. The killing at Ghonth, followed by the immediate riots in various parts of the state. Eager cameramen had already reached the affected areas, and inquisitive journalists poked and pushed their mics in front of injured and semi injured people taking their reactions. The riot had already left some 50 people dead, and an equal number maimed.

It was spreading fast, claimed the news reporter.

" Its the Hindus who are leading the troop this time. They feel they have to avenge the death of the 30 dead sadhus at Ghonth, But the Muslims are not far behind in taking out their swords. This is Raj laxmi reporting from.............."

As they listened to this, an awkward silence efell on the couple.

Somewhere outside, they heard a few screams and shouts, a clatter as rusty shutters of the shops were being forced down. They could hear shouts for help. Farzana ran to the balcony, and looked out, and gave a small cry.

" Saagar they are here........" she cried worried.

He reached the balcony, to see a sword piercing a man's heart. There were a group of saffron clad men, shouting " Jai Shri Ram" and kicking and throwing things out from a shop at the far end of the street. Other shop keepers were bringing down the shutters, they were running away from the mob, which was now concentrating on ruining another shop next to the one which they just had. The street was filled by people running, on scooters, horns blaring, pushing and shovelling.

Outside their door, there was a loud rude knock.

Saagar opened the door, Ikram rushed in .

" Hurry saheb, Leave....there is a riot on in Shakirpura"

He rushed out to knock on the next room, probably the only other guest of the Hotel.

Saagar shoved his clothes into the nightbag, and holding the hand of Farzana, ran down, and out of the hotel. Immediately they were caught in the rush of people.

Their car was standing some yards away, in front of a broken down building as that was the only place for it to be parked.

As he rushed towards it, his hand lost his grip over hers. A large group of men came out of the opposite building, ( it was some sort of a school probably) and nearly carried him away, like a wave carries off a twig in its arms. Farzana cried out. He rushed towards her, but could not.

Suddenly, he saw the hotel keepers wife coming out, and enveloping Farzana, she took her into a by lane, just as the sword brandishing mob entered a shop just two buildings away. He was dragged a few inches and he stumbled over a fallen body, and his head hit the tarred road. A sharp pain ran through his head. The students of the school had almost passed away, and he saw one of the mobsters running towards him, a long sword in his hand, glimmering in the sunshine.

" I am a hindu " he screamed....and tried to get up,

And suddenly, he was pushed back.

" Saala Hindu? " a gruff voice said. A young lad of seventeen in a kurta pyjama, and the holy cap of Muslims appeared from behind the door of the school.

He kicked Saagar on the chest, and took out a small knife from his pocket

For a split second their eyes met. Saagar saw the fire of rage in that man's eyes...the rage of a mad man.

" Leave him " the man with the sword said.

The Muslims attention was diverted towards the man with the sword.

The two engaged in a verbal duel, and were nearly on the verge of hitting each other.

Saagar nearly lost his consciousness, when a strong arm gripped him from behind,and took him into the hotel. He heard the front door close with a bang, and he was pushed and stumbled to the back side, at the residence of Ikram, where he had had dinner last night. He managed to see that two arms were dragging him, they were strong, and muscled, and they belonged to Ikram. He got on his feet, and followed Ikram out from the back door into a narrow alleyway. The alley way led into another narrow lane, a pig sat there, and the place smelt of shit. He followed Ikram without active consciousness in a maze of narrow lanes bordered with tall broken cement and mortar houses, finally into an open park, and into a square white and green building. The noises were now far behind him, and he stumbled into the building and fell down.

**************************************************

The tension in the night was tense; it could be cut by a knife. Saagar sat cross legged on the corner. Farzana, sat beside him, her head on his shoulder. Both were safe for now, but for how long they did not know. When Farzana's hand slipped from Saagar's, Ikram's wife had brought her to the same place, where Ikram had dragged him to in his semi-conscious state. It was a mosque. A safe refuge for Muslims. The large iron doors were shut and bolted. There were some twenty odd people who had taken refuge here. The mosque had two huge halls, with cement flooring, and walls filled with inscriptions from the Quran. Saagar and Farzana were alone in the second inner hall, and they sat on the cold floor, with a matticed window a little above them. A forlorn bulb shone outside from a street lamp. The light filtered through the window in an eerie design. The lights of the room were off. The others were outside, they could hear the small humdrum of conversation from the other room.

" No one knows where we are " said Saagar. He was worried and anxiety writ large on his face. " What will papa say?"

" I know....they dont know we stopped here. They will be waiting for our phone call tonight"

" Will we be safe ?" asked Farzana, her voice trembling.

A shiver ran down his spine. He looked into her horrified eyes, and saw the reflection of the same fear that he could feel in his heart. What if they could not come out alive. Somewhere outside was a mob raging mad.

" Dont worry....everything will be ok " he tried to reassure her, but his voice betrayed his feelings. " I saw death today in that man's eyes....."

He recounted his story. They were talking in soft whispers.

" My God... how mean!! How can anyone kill someone like this "

" Probably it is a collective revenge. How could they kill the innocent sadhus...imagine being burnt alive"

Farzana shuddered.

And though he did not mean to say it, the words just tumbled out of his mouth " You Muslims are real brute!!!!!" They were out before he could even think what he had said. Perhaps, the eyes of the killer on the street were still haunting him. Perhaps it was a surpressed feeling somewhere honed into him right through his childhood. But they came out. They came out at this inappropriate time, sitting in the mosque, with his newly wed Muslim wife!!!!

He might have followed it with an apology, but Farzana's arm withdrew from his shoulder, and she retorted, also a split second too soon " And what were Hindus doing killing and looting there"

A cold wind wafted through the window. It sliced through the space created by Farzana moving away from Saagar's warm body. It felt cold and icy.

He was suddenly angered at her remark.

" What you guys did at Gonth was no healing!!" he replied back.

"Saagar I am amazed" she said indignant

TO BE CONTINUED..........................

FOR SECOND AND FINAL PART CLICK HERE

A STORY BY DEEPAK JESWAL