Chapter 13

Nitya tossed around in the strange bed for a while after which she gave up sleeping. Two days of being cooped up in Kamble kaka’s home was getting on her nerves. She had taken off from her work for a week and this came with a massive pay-cut. She had already exhausted her leave after her mom passed.

Money was tight and she barely had savings on her but saving her and most importantly Naman’s life was of prime importance. Kamble kaka was still apparently working around finding a connection with his ex-Army friend. She didn’t want to depend on his kindness anymore. She was feeling like a charity case. It was difficult for her to trust people but somehow Kamble kaka had always been there for her. Now that she finally had a breather in years, she realized she had survived because of his efforts. She wished amma had confided in kaka when she was being threatened. She was sure, kaka would have had a solution. Maybe this fiasco would have ended.

Thank God for small mercies she had met him one day suddenly and he had brought them here and she could set her roots here. It wasn’t a bed of roses but the thorns were bearable. At least naman was cared for when she went out to earn a living.

She sighed as she got off the bed. She stood as she stretched and yawned. She looked around the plain room and wondered when was the last time she had woken up in a relaxed manner. She couldn’t remember. The walls of the room had a pistachio green shade throughout and she wondered how plain and simple kaka’s life was. He had once told her he had a good pension and lots of savings. He had also promised her mother that he would perform Nitya’s ‘kanyadaan’ during her wedding.

Nitya chuckled at the memory. She had never thought about her personal life since she could last remember. It was always naman or her amma and their medical requirements. She wondered if kaka had mentioned that to her mother just to pacify the woman on the tethers of losing her sanity or if he had made a promise to his dead friend’s wife… Whatever it was he had gone beyond the realms of friendship for them. As she smiled and looked around, her sharp eyes noted a huge patch of a different shade on one of the walls. It was as if there was a ceiling-to-floor crack that had been modified and painted over again. But it was very wide enough and had she not looked with a keen eye she would have missed it.

What was that patch? She looked upwards to see a framed picture on it. It was small so she had to go closer to look. It showed a younger version of Kamble kaka in his army uniform along with another tall man with broad shoulders. Wait… there was something very familiar about the man…  Strangely Kamble kaka had no pictures in the house. Not even of his dead wife. Nitya didn’t remember seeing the woman even once those years ago. But kaka seemed to revere her whenever he spoke about the woman. Was this other man in the

She scratched her head. Her memory had gone to sleep… it looked like. Her past had been a blur for ages. So, she couldn’t remember that limping man till she fell down in that place in Vasai. The thought sent a shudder through her body.

She heard some sound from the hall outside and walked out to find Naman typing furiously on the ‘computer’.  He had barely done so for the last two days and had been a bit sullen. However, thankfully he didn’t have a meltdown and didn’t call for attention from the neighbours.

This time there was no music. However, a pensive kaka looked on his untouched tea now cold in the cup in his hands. She quickly strode towards him. Before she could ask something, Kaka gestured her to silence. It was then she heard… Naman was muttering again. The rarely verbal Naman was saying something incoherent. He had barely uttered a word after that night when they moved here. And now he was unstoppable.

She tiptoed towards her brother and went very close to him. And then she heard.

“Coming… coming soon… danger… terror attack… danger… terror attack… soon…” Naman was perseverating as he rocked back and forth. She placed a hand on his shoulder lightly like she did whenever he had a meltdown or cried and she didn’t know the reason.

But he didn’t stop and continued uttering the words. Nitya was terrified. In case someone heard Naman it would be disastrous… because of their history. It wouldn’t take people long to figure out who their father was.

She looked at Kamble kaka. He called her towards him.

“Nitya as you must be aware by now it’s the instrument that has something those people wanted. It has something your father concealed and you were meant to decipher. However, Naman being the genius, did it. We now have to be careful before this reaches the right hands.”

“But Kaka, what should we do? We are barely settled in our lives. Naman is so innocent. He won’t know to keep anything secretive. I am sure he is boiling within… what if he explodes? Kaka… how do I handle it all then?”

Kaka thought for a while. “Nitya, do you remember a couple of years ago when your amma had an attack of… um… and Naman couldn’t tolerate her screams? He was rocking just like this and singing or chanting something…”

Nitya nodded. Naman was in a very volatile position whenever their amma had one of her extreme episodes of what the doctor later said was a phase of manic-depressive-psychosis. But for Nitya at that moment amma didn’t matter… controlling her brother did. She continued where kaka left. “…yes kaka… and we let him out of the house. You went with him to keep an eye from a distance and he just circled the housing society perimeter a few times and returned. He had cooled down by then and amma had been sedated successfully.”

“Exactly. Let us let him out of the house.”

“But kaka… isn’t it dangerous?”

“Nitya, if they had to harm your brother, they would have done it by now. I have my doubts if they know how much he knows or that he has kind of decoded the message in the instrument. Why did Sajid or whoever he is go through so much to pursue your affections? Under any circumstances they won’t harm him… else they will lose the only chance at getting whatever they want. So Nitya, let him go and I will go behind him like that day… watch over him from a distance.”

Nitya nodded. Kaka was right. Naman needed the outing.

In half an hour an excited Naman bounced on his feet as he left kaka’s house. Kaka followed him. Though Nitya kept herself occupied with cooking, she couldn’t let go of the fear of something happening to him.

Even after an hour when the duo didn’t return, Nitya was engulfed in the throes of panic. Kaka wasn’t answering his phone either and Naman hadn’t taken his phone along. She was about to leave home to look for them when kaka opened the main door and entered followed by a radiant Naman.

“Wh…where were you two? I was so worried, kaka” She couldn’t help but squeal.

Kaka sat for a while breathing heavily and had water that she offered. She felt guilty about raising her voice but she had almost lost it in worry.

“Don’t worry Nitya, Naman is fine now. The run did him good. We went to the garden nearby and I was on alert. It’s near the market and a busy place so its safe. Naman knows the routes as well. So relax.”

Nitya nodded and went to the bedroom to help Naman freshen up and change. However she stopped at the threshold when Naman kept muttering,

“square jaw, brown eyes, face so tanned,

Handsome new friend will take a stand….”

What?

She rushed to Naman and held him by his thin shoulders. “Naman, sweetie…?” She addressed him softly so as to not startle him. “… what did you just say? ‘new friend’…. Who?”

Naman almost never answered any question asked of him and this time was no different. The boy clamed up and Nitya let him be, feeling all frustrated. She walked out of the room and saw Kaka settle with a newspaper very causally.

She sat next to him on the leather sofa even as it creaked with the added weight. “Kaka… did Naman meet someone today?”

Kaka shut the newspaper folds and looked at her above the rims of his reading glasses. “Why do you ask, Nitya?”

What kind of an answer was this? Nitya shook her head. “kaka, Naman was muttering something about a ‘new friend’ and since he seemed happy when he returned, I thought…”

“Nitya… your imagination runs wild. Naman enjoyed his run… he was fed up with being cooped up at home because of the gloomy rains. I was watching him all the time. So don’t worry, alright?”

Nitya nodded, still not satisfied with Kaka’s answer. Was he hiding something? Her gut feeling told her so…

This pattern went on for a week more and Naman was blooming. He was always smiling and even reading a bit these days. She once asked him if he wanted to continue with his diploma and he nodded. She had to be doubly sure and given the threat looming on their heads she wasn’t going to take a chance but they had online options and Naman could do it if he put his heart into it. Naman even started to help at home. Kaka and Naman took up the cleaning duties while Nitya managed the cooking and did her online training activity for her clients. It wasn’t getting much money but at least she could contribute to the house. Kaka never mentioned but she didn’t want to burden him.

Though she was uncomfortable about the change in Naman, she was also scared at the back of her mind.

Finally, she decided to face her fears head-on.  She decided to get back to work, not yet at the gym but as a personal trainer. She had a couple of offers closer to where she lived and decided to take them up. They paid well and if the word spread she would soon get more offers. Every extra dime would help.

Her first day at work was uneventful and she realized that kaka was probably right. The enemy wouldn’t harm her because they hadn’t got what they wanted. For now, she was ok and her being in crowded areas, they wouldn’t dare to attack fearing backlash and their lair in Vasai too would get exposed.

The next week went in a fixed routine. Kaka and Naman would go for their walk and as soon as they returned, she would go for her sessions. She would be back by 2 PM and then take up her online classes. She had begun to breathe easy when one evening she heard Naman’s muttering…

“Naman combat mode… still like a rock.

Engage brain not weapon… be rock still…”

To say that she was shocked was an understatement. She rushed to Naman and asked him gently. “Naman dear, who said this to you?”

Naman gave her a confused look that he usually gave whenever she asked him a question. So, trying her best to keep a neutral tone she repeated. “Who said…to be still like a rock and engage the brain…?” She couldn’t even explain how she felt within as the whirlwind of emotions spread through her being.

Naman looked at her with a sparkle in his eyes beneath those glasses. “New friend… good friend. Naman friend. Strong… Naman strong… Naman safe…”

Naman went back to whatever he was typing on the computer and Nitya decided to take it up with kaka. Kaka wasn’t at home then and would be back late.

But she didn’t get a chance the next day and soon it was time for her to go to work. But that day as she got out of the large housing colony, she felt eyes on her. The skin on her neck prickled and she turned around. But everything appeared normal as people around went about their usual business. She did feel some movement at the corner of her eye but the moment she looked that side, nothing was out of the ordinary.

She shook her head… something was wrong with her. Like kaka often told her she was getting paranoid. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and kaka came down evening with a fever. She took care of him… he refused to see a doctor. She couldn’t speak about Naman even that day. But kaka looked so fragile and tired that she decided not to exhaust him anymore. She made a firm resolve to find it out herself…

Just as she was about to leave kaka’s room after placing the glass of milk for him, he called out to her. “Nitya… don’t overthink, child….” She was surprised, kaka had never used any endearment for her to date. Was the fever messing with his head? “…listen, it’s time you trust someone and lead a good life instead of being insecure and anxious all the time…” Kaka was panting as he struggled to speak and Nitya felt guilty. But what on earth was he talking about? She was clueless. She nodded and decided to let the topic rest at least for the time being.

The next day Naman went out alone and kaka mentioned some kind of a tracking app on Naman’s phone that she could use to find out where he went. That helped her breathe easy.

Naman was back beaming as usual and she left for work. That day too she felt someone following her. She took breaks in her stride and kept looking back but couldn’t find anyone. She was losing it she realized and continued walking. She hailed an auto and reached her destination in about 20 minutes. The client lived in a secluded colony of bungalows and it was an elite area in suburban Mumbai. She normally didn’t bother about the silence but that day it irked her and the feeling of being followed intensified. She increased her pace as she walked past the initial bungalows to reach the last one in the row.

Suddenly she heard a sound… some kind of a wooooshhhh… and heart stopped as she clutched her chest. She turned around in combat pose as they did in martial arts but there was nothing…

Did she need to see a shrink? Was she turning out like her mother? Weird thoughts floated through her mind. She finished her work for the day and fortunately didn’t get those feelings on her way back home.

The next day she had an off from work and she decided to cook something elaborate for kaka and Naman. The largest local vegetable market was a bit away and she decided to go there to get a good bargain. The feeling of being followed continued but she decided not to let it bother her. She continued with her vegetable shopping and kept looking around whenever the feeling popped up… but in the swelling sea of people, she couldn’t find anything conclusive…

Once again as she exited the market, she heard that swish and stopped. Her heart thudded and she took a moment before turning around. There was no one… she had left from the back end of the large market which was barely populated but was closer to the shared auto stand.

She saw there was no one present and increased her pace hugging the large heavy vegetable bag close to her chest. Once home she got busy with the meal preparations and didn’t realize until noon that Naman was uneasy… he had begun to rock and was muttering something incoherent.

Kaka was just about and walking in the house and he was concerned about Naman as well. Naman had been silent ever since he had been back from his walk. Nitya was too stressed about the experiences in the past couple of days and chose to wait… she was exhausted.

Sleep eluded her that night and her anxiety peaked.

The next day Naman went out alone for his walk while kaka left for a nearby bank for his pension-related work. Nitya didn’t take her eyes off the tracker. The tracker stated Naman was around 500 metres from her but didn’t give details. After a while, she realized it was post his return time and Naman wasn’t home. Worried she dialled his number. It rang for a while but he didn’t answer it. Her heartbeat went overdrive and she was about to rush out searching for Naman when her phone rang… it was a private number.

“He… hello?”

“Nitya, this is Sajid…” She almost dropped the phone when he continued. “… don’t waste another moment if you want to see your brother alive. We have him with us… I have texted an address. Be there in half an hour. A second late…. And you can have his dead body… I am so done with you two…”

“SAJID…” she screamed. “…Don’t you dare…” she warned him.

“You are wasting precious seconds…and you know you can’t involve the police.” he disconnected the call.

She didn’t even bother to change and rushed out of the house. The place was some kind of a warehouse and she had only heard of it before. She somehow made it with  5 minutes to spare, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

The place was an open barren ground with just a large warehouse-like structure… was this the right place? She didn’t know. It looked abandoned given the rusted gates and overgrown dried grass.

She rushed towards the structure when she heard thuds and screams… OMG NAMAN…

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her and just as she was about to reach the entrance of the windowless structure, the door crashed open and a man in black overalls fell out stunning her to freeze in her spot. A couple of other men too fell out one after the other. There was silence as she saw the three men lying in dust unmoving. Were they dead…?

Oh God…NAMAN…

She forced herself to move and ran inside. The place was dark and she couldn’t make out anything except some kind of a giggle… it was Naman… Naman’s laugh. A rare one but his laugh nonetheless. She was relieved instantly but fear soon returned.

“NAMAN…” she called out loudly. Where was he? The structure was huge and dark. Naman wasn’t really scared of darkness but here she was.

“Di..di…di…di…” Naman’s stereotypical way of calling her out came through and she clasped her chest trying to figure out where he was in the darkness around her. It struck her she had a phone with her. With trembling hands, she removed her phone and switched on the torch…

In the silvery glow, she saw two figures walking towards her. One awkward gait was Naman and he was holding hands with a strong person… strong gait.

Wait…

Naman holding hands? He never did that with anyone except her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

As the duo emerged, she rushed to Naman who kept calling her in his way and for a change let her hug him. Suddenly he said. “Friend… good friend… Naman safe… still like a rock… Naman safe… friend save Naman…”

She moved away and looked up at the stranger… the good Samaritan who apparently saved her brother.

She had to squint to look at the tall well-built man in combat kind of outfit…her heart skipped a beat as old repressed memories rushed to the surface. Memories from the innumerable meets in the garden to the last one in those woods in the Himalayas… after which her debacles had begun.

She held her hand to her mouth as she gasped…

“Hello Nitya…” The deep baritone pierced her heart.

She could barely whisper.

“Maa… Maanav?”

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 12

Maanav stirred the extra sugar sachet and revelled in the ripple formed on the surface of his coffee, the impeccable brown surrounded by the pristine white of the ceramic cup. Watching the whirling beverage reminded him of its striking similarity to his life. He had barely got back his bearings after the ‘accident’ on ‘duty’ and had struggled for almost a month to get back his fitness levels. He had yet to reach the zenith of his abilities, but he couldn’t stay at his house anymore. The nightmares were turning to be a regular affair and he was itching to get back to the field.

However, he received a communication that he was discharged from the special ops because of an error in judgment about calling in the helicopter through external sources instead of the special ops handlers. While the higher-ups knew the latter would have been futile given the terrain, they had to go by the book to dismiss him from special-ops service. Another factor remained that his face had been revealed to the enemy. Given today’s digital status, the enemy would have by-hearted his facial contours by now and his disguises would be useless as well. But Maanav knew it all came down to the ego tussle between his handler and the higher-ups. His handler was close to Capt. Rawat, had a special liking for his skills. There never was a single deviation or a mishap in the past 5 years that he was in the core special ops execution team.

They were making a big deal of this so-called indiscretion…

Had it been even a year ago, Maanav would have fought his way into the team but surprisingly he didn’t mind getting out. He had tendered his e-resignation as asked and to his handler’s utmost irritation, he had ‘walked out’ of the special ops unit for good.

It took him a while for the bullet injury to heal and Shiv and Padma had been his strongest support system. They were away in Padma’s father’s constituency but they were in touch every day and Shiv counselled him daily after dinner. Words from his friend meant more than any other counsellor out there. He was healing well.

Even after recovery, he contemplated changing fields and starting a professional shooting arcade or joining Shiv’s SPS. The invitation was open and he knew his friend would welcome him with open arms anytime in his life. He wanted the best of both worlds… be an operative in the field as well as become a coach for developing international-level players. He dreamed of making avail of resources to the students from lower socio-economic strata.

“Penny for your thoughts, Bullet…?” Shiv’s baritone disturbed the circular ripples in his coffee and Maanav looked up. He stood up even as Shiv rushed towards him and pulled him into a hug. They stood like that for a while as Shiv patted Maanav’s back and right then Maanav’s decision was made. He was joining the SPS.

They sat on the sofa next to each other and Maanav stared at the now cold coffee.

The four friends could sit still for hours and yet communicate a lot without speaking. Such was their bond.

“Nightmares troubling again?” Shiv asked.

Maanav shrugged and chuckled. “Shadow… how was it when you first met Padma after years?”

Shiv raised an eyebrow and smiled. Maanav was happy to see his best friend look content and… happy in domestic bliss. No one at a glance would know that beneath the external gentlemanly veneer rested a deadly operative who could kill with his bare hands and without anyone having an inkling of what happened…. Shiv would merge into the shadows…

“It was surreal. You know how we were in the gurukul… just treating everyday as a new one and going on with our lives just because we had to. But Padma made me realise that I had something to look forward to… in fact a lot of it. She was the reason for me to live… to survive despite all the curveballs life threw my way. Am I making sense?” Shiv grinned as he turned around his signet ring, a special engagement gift from his father-in-law, the current guardian minister of the province.

Maanav looked at his friend and having known Shiv closely for years he knew his friend had changed for the better. Family life was doing him good. He looked up at the painting on the wall above the desk in front. Nature often helped him calm and the waterfall looked so serene and real, he could almost hear the gurgles. Would he ever find that sort of contentment? Or would he keep running around in circles…? He wondered.

“What is it, Maanav?” Shiv asked softly and Maanav knew that when Shiv took his given name instead of the alias, he was dead serious.

“I wish I could tell you, Shadow… but I don’t know what it is. Something is troubling me… something about an unfinished business. Something rooted in those flashing nightmares. Then there’s dad’s last letter and whatever he called a ‘gift’. It feels like life has come a full circle and I am back to the starting point, clueless.”

“Have you thought about the next step…?”

Maanav nodded. “I want to join SPS. I want to get back to the field… being an operative helps me cope with… all that.”

Shiv stood and walked towards the French window that looked at the freshly manicured lawn outside brimming with the seasonal blooms. “Bullet, you are always welcome to join me here. God knows I need someone reliable and work is pouring. I have operatives but no one is trustworthy for some of the projects… you know we are bodyguards just on the surface. Our job goes beyond being protectors, we are investigators as well as operatives. The field jobs entail risks to lives but not so much as the special ops… you know that, don’t you?” He turned to look at Maanav. “…so think carefully… because in the special ops, we were responsible for ourselves and our higher-ups could toss us away if we were caught. But now we will be responsible for the person we are entrusted to protect. All said and done I will not want you to accept anything just to escape your past or life’s reality. It may put you and the one you protect at risk. And Maanav…” Shiv walked towards Maanav who had stood up and was standing still in his combat mode. Some things couldn’t be changed… Shiv smiled. “… my friend, you are also family to me. A brother… so…”

Maanav looked at Shiv and understood what he meant. Nodding he spoke. “I understand, Shadow, but being an operative on the field gives me immense satisfaction. I can’t stay still behind a desk… I will rust all over… Please, Shiv, I want to go on the field. I need to find answers but I won’t, unless I am out there and my brain gets the needed stimulation.”

Shiv stared at his friend for a moment and walked behind the office desk. He opened his laptop and brought it to where Maanav stood. They both sat on the sofa yet again and Shiv placed the laptop on the center table.

“Here is a project… Directly from Captain Rawat’s reference. I can’t entrust this to anyone except to Razor or you. Razor is busy with a special-ops case in a location only I am privy to. Lolita… well she is fighting her inner demons and I am watching her carefully. So that leaves you. You are perfect for this project…you come recommended for this one…”

“…I will take it up…. Wait… what did you say? Recommended?” Maanav abruptly spoke.

“You should hear me out, Bullet, before you make a decision,” Shiv spoke softly without smiling this time and Maanav knew the guy was serious. He only nodded.

Shiv opened an encrypted email from Captain Rawat.

Shadow,

A package has arrived for safe custody. It needs protection… not just the package but the owners as well. The package is sensitive and has information regarding national security and should be handled with care. The agent assigned should not only handle the package and protect it along with the owners, he/she should also be able to decipher the package before officially handing it over to the intelligence.

This is a long-drawn war… and the information is crucial. If fallen in the wrong hands it can lead to an unimaginable catastrophe.

Shadow, I think your SPS is the best resort with us. The intelligence has asked for covert help and we must get this done with utmost care. The enemy is always a step ahead and it’s time we step up our game. There is no restriction on methods used and I leave it to your discretion.

However, I have a recommendation. Bullet has been discharged from the Special ops and I think he is the best operative for this job. I want him to take this up… for both a professional and personal closure.

Confirm with me and I shall get the details to you.

Capt Rawat.

“What does he mean by personal closure?” Maanav was curious.

Shiv walked towards the window yet again and stood still with his hands folded in front of his broad chest. “Bullet, you were brought to the gurukul by Capt. Rawat, right?” he asked after what seemed like ages and both were lost in thought.

Maanav nodded. “Yea… he did. He was my dad’s friend. I think he knew him a lot better than I.” he sighed and sagged further into the office sofa. He rested his head on the back edge of the sofa and stared up at the spotless ceiling. The beautiful design made of plaster of Paris and neatly painted with earthen hues gave a strong yet demure effect to the eyes that instantly calmed the mind and instilled confidence. This was Padma’s idea through and through and once again Maanav was happy Shiv had her in his life.

“Maanav you should get that letter from your dad and that gift as well…”

Maanav sat up abruptly. “Why…? Why do you ask for that?” His heart began to pound. Why did that topic have such an effect on him?

Shiv walked back to the sofa and sat next to Maanav placing a large warm calloused palm on Maanav’s and unclenched his fingers. Maanav was instantly reminded of the Gurukul early years where Shiv would often console him, whenever he got into a fight or was reprimanded. He let Shiv hold his hand, even as a sense of calmness began to settle in.

“Look, Bullet, Capt Rawat knows everything that’s there to know about us. If he has recommended you for this job then he must be serious. We both know he doesn’t use so many words but this letter proves otherwise so this is important… way too important. If he feels you are the right choice then it has to do with that last gift from your father as well.”

Shiv’s soft words were like a balm to his injured soul.

“But Shadow, I want to be as far from that as possible… have been doing it for years, now.”  Maanav rubbed his face with the other palm and realized he was sweating despite the AC on full blast.

“Maanav…” Shiv’s warning tone made him pull his hand away but Shiv grasped it harder. “…For God’s sake, it’s been years and you have been suffering… for no fault of yours. Those nightmares, the unanswered queries about your dad or what he left for you… those need closure, man! You are dying every day. Don’t I know that? You are a mess, Maanav and its high time you get into the depth of all this instead of running away and…” Shiv held up his hand as Maanav began to interrupt and continued. “… You must resolve this once and for all. After that what you do with your life is up to you. But you have to see this through.”

“Ok Shiv… I shall do this, the way you said, though I don’t understand the correlation between all of these.” Maanav sighed yet again.

Shiv nodded and replied to the same email in yet another cryptic message.

Padma walked in right then with an office boy holding a tray of freshly brewed coffee and little Kartik let go of her hand to rush to Shiv who scooped up the squealing kid into his arms.

Maanav was entertained for the next 10 minutes as Kartik regaled them with his antics. His woes were pushed to a corner while he grinned for the first time in weeks or was it months? Suddenly, the laptop pinged with an incoming email and Padma knew it was time for them to leave the two alone.

As soon as she left with a grumpy Kartik who didn’t want to be separated from his father, Shiv opened the email and began the decrypting process. After about 5 minutes of innumerable code input, the email from Capt. Rawat flashed before them.

Shadow, Bullet,

Glad its Bullet who is doing this. Time can’t be more correct… stars can’t be more aligned. Bullet, you must take this to its logical conclusion. Get your father’s blessings on board. Your bodyguard duties begin as soon as you land in Mumbai. The message with the address details of the package and the owners will be in your text on the special number delegated to you. How you do this is upto your discretion.

Capt Rawat.

Shiv opened his locker and took out a box filled with burner phones. Taking one out, he typed in some code and handed it over to Maanav. Maanav opened the new message from Capt Rawat and almost dropped the phone as he swayed. Shiv steadied him and took the phone from his hand to read the message.

Package:  a crude model of an assembled computer.

Owner: The brother-sister duo,

Naman Mohandas, Age: 18y. Nityashree Mohandas (Alais Nitya) Age: 26y

Location: Mumbai (check the GPS coordinates)

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 11

Nitya’s voice caught in her throat as she almost attempted to scream… the beads of sweat lining her forehead had long cascaded down her back and her kurta now stuck to her body. She almost lost her balance as she gasped watching the sight unfold before her.

What was Sajid doing here? Or was it Ashfaq?

She must have made some noise… because the very next moment Sajid raised his head from the slumped position on the chair. He was looking towards the window where she stood and was struggling to focus given the crusting blood from his forehead where he had been hit earlier, impeding his line of vision.

She moved back but the unsteady tin couldn’t hold any longer and she fell with a crash. She rolled over and hid in the shed reflexly hoping no one heard the noise. It would be futile hiding in the shed if someone were to come along. She waited with bated breath, eyes wide in fear. What if someone caught her? She would be done for… what would happen to Naman?

As she scrambled further deep into the tiny shed, it felt like a de ja vu. And like the flash of lightening that split the cloud above in the dark skies, her memory came back. The tall man was the same guy who had threatened her mother years ago and it was the same night they had left the house they lived in… Hugging her knees close she sobbed trying to muffle the sounds by digging her mouth into her arm on the side.

That only meant those people were still after Nitya and Naman… Appa what is it that they want from us? If Nitya knew it, she would have given it to them in a jiffy, not bothering what it contained or what it could do…

But for now, she had to escape from this Godforsaken place and return home. A glance into her mobile phone showed it was close to 7.30 PM… oh goodness the time had flown with jet speed. Naman would get worried if she didn’t reach before his bedtime. He couldn’t retire for the night without her patting him even to date. Trying to get her pounding heart under control she glanced once more at the window, wondering what would happen to Sajid or Ashfaq or whoever he was…

Shaking her head she made a move outside as the rains began their fury. She didn’t have an umbrella and somehow didn’t have the sense to carry one along. But now wasn’t the time to ponder over it. She made her way towards the Minar pillar with the hospital building glow guiding her way. Fortunately, she hadn’t been caught and that wasn’t short of a miracle.

Her leg began to throb… the leg that was slightly burnt in those woods years ago. But she wasn’t hit there today… then why was the leg hurting? She didn’t know. It was probably because of fear having an upper hand… she limped her way to the large pillar that had hidden her earlier. But Maanav flooded her thoughts right then. He would have known what to do even at that age…

Mentally reprimanding herself, she peeped out to check the coast around if it was clear or not. The cars were gone and there was not a soul in sight. Thanking the Almighty for small blessings she sprinted across the straight road from where she had come. She hoped she wouldn’t lose her way in the pitch-wet darkness. She couldn’t even use her phone light at the risk of getting it wet. She always kept stuff in her pockets and rarely carried a separate purse or a bag. She never felt better about her decisions than today… a bag would have been a liability.

Her leg was numb and was beyond agonizing pain she encountered earlier as she ran. Her jeans were stuck to her legs. She wouldn’t have wanted pain at that moment but that also meant she couldn’t feel her leg and almost fell a few times before she made it outside.

Thank God the auto was still waiting for her. The driver rushed out in the rain and held out an umbrella.

“Beta, I was to call the police if you hadn’t come out in another 5 minutes…” The man’s concern filled voice made its way amidst the cacophony of the downpour.

She didn’t say a word but just got into the vehicle. The man didn’t probe either and started the auto.

The complete journey to Vasai station went in silence Nitya sat still locking her fingers into each other tightly and still in shock over what had happened. Wait… By ‘girl’ they meant her for sure… what on earth was with her family? Jewels, bonds, certificates, notarized papers?

They barely had any possessions as far as she could remember. Every bit of thing was sold when tough times came upon them. Her mother wouldn’t have suffered if she had what those people wanted. But even in her delirious state she never mentioned anything… That only meant she didn’t know either. And presently Nitya just had one bank account for her salary and other payment transactions. She kept her paper trail to a bare minimum. She had thought her fears had been put to rest but today’s onslaught on her senses, removed the plaster off her raw wounds and they were now bleeding… her heart was bleeding. She was never dependent on anyone in her life but today she wished there was someone she could share her agony with… she just wished for once, Naman was a typical kid.

Speaking of which, he would be sleepy? Or hungry? Or plain scared? She became aware of her surroundings on time as they approached Vasai station and she got off.

“Will you be alright, beta?” the man asked and Nitya was overcome with emotions. She struggled not to cry. She couldn’t… not till she was back home. She nodded and paid him. he refused the extra fare and just told her to be safe and stay away from the place she had just visited.

Nitya was on auto pilot throughout the journey back home. Curious looks at her drenched-to-the skin state with swollen eyes and dazed look, from co-passengers on the train, didn’t move her. Nothing affected her after what she witnessed that evening…

She dragged her numb leg as she approached her house. Fortunately, Kamble kaka was still waiting for her. Naman had not eaten a morsel but was apparently engrossed on his ‘computer’ for hours. She could hear the musical sounds coming from his room like it happened whenever he hit the keys. Kamble kaka was still looking at her with concern written all over his face probably at her condition.

He turned to go back to his house as Nitya thanked him profusely for helping her out today.

As Nitya held the door to shut it, she stopped. Kamble kaka too halted in his tracks….

From Naman’s room came a beautiful symphony, a different but soulful melody as Naman hit the keys. Every other time the notes were gibberish and out of tune. It used to be irritating especially for their mother but eventually it had become redundant.

But that night it was different. Kamble kaka came back and they both went to Naman’s room.

“Nitya, don’t you think something is… different with the boy today?” kaka said.

Nitya didn’t want to share what happened with Naman in the class that morning… gosh it all seemed like days ago. She only nodded. Was her brother still traumatised? But he usually reacted to stress with a meltdown. Still, as they both peeped into Naman’s dark lair, they saw the scrawny Naman hunched upon the instrument with a strange curiosity… for a moment Nitya wondered if her brother was truly a special child. He looked just like a typical geek on his gadget.

Nitya slowly walked towards Naman and placed a careful palm on his slender shoulder.

But Naman who normally would respond to his sister, was an epitome of concentration. His untouched cinnamon-tea cup stood still witnessing the young genius type his way to something only he understood but the melody was unmistakenly something she had heard her father play ages ago… Remembering a few words from the album, Nitya googled the words. It was a popular album called the ‘Ripples Genesis…’  from 1976.

But why was that tune playing from whatever Naman was doing…? This was something that was built over 15 years ago by her father. It was then sent to them and they received it a few years ago. She also thought about the letters in the cupboard that she had recently read…

Did Appa want to convey any message to them? Oh dear… were those people after this gruff instrument…???? This was so primitive… just like some musical keys and her father loved to build things like this. Then what was in it? Was it such a threat that they were hell bent on destroying her peace?

But for now, she had to get Naman out of the digital trance.

“Naman, please talk to akka…”

Naman continued to furiously type and then after 5 minutes he stilled. He smiled as his face lit up in the glow of the laptop. No one would say he had issues… his face was a paragon of innocence.

“What is it Naman? Did you… what did you find?”

“Akka… Naman gotcha” he said stereotypically. Like he always did whenever he solved a math problem or anything of the sort.

“What did you get?”

“Naman gotcha… round 2 attack… Mumbai”

Her heart skipped a beat. She rushed to close the tiny window and kneeled before him holding his hands in hers. And after a quick glance at a stunned kaka, she asked softly.

“Naman what… did… you… find?”

“Ap… Ap…Appa… Mumbai attack round 2… water… ripples. Naman gotcha…” he continued to smile and though nothing that he said made sense to her, she knew they were in trouble…

Deep… deep trouble.

She helped Naman shut the instrument after promising him a new USB keyboard that he always wanted. She served him dinner and all the while kaka and she exchanged looks as he ate without a word, lost in his thoughts. Both waited for Naman to retire to bed and the guy was so excited he took a while to fall asleep.

“Kaka, I am so scared now…” Nitya voiced her concerns. She finally explained all that had happened in the computer institute as well as in Vasai.

“Nitya… why didn’t you tell me all this? And why did you go there alone? What if something would have happened to you?” Kaka exclaimed.

“Actually kaka, I was too shocked and angry at Sajid… but now I don’t know what to do. Kaka, do you think they wanted this crude instrument?”

“I knew your Appa well. He never did anything without reason. If he had sent this to you, that means, there was something for you all…. like a message he was trying to convey.

Nitya took out the letters and Kamble kaka went through all of them. He shook his head looking as confused as her when she had read the one addressed to her. Some sort of code language… and now this music coming through but still incomplete.

“kaka, Appa mentioned I should take help. But what should I require help for? And from whom?”

Kaka paced along the tiny drawing room of her house while she sat on the cot rocking back and forth as they tried to figure things out.

Kaka sighed as he came to a halt.

“I always knew that Sajid was no good. He had trouble written all over him. I am surprised he let the bit of information about his place out like that before you. As far as I know those kinds of people are very careful…”

“What kind of people… kaka? And how did I get involved? Did Sajid target me on purpose for the last 5 years? But I didn’t share anything personal with him… I still can’t believe it. But that means…” She stood with a start. “…that means Naman is in danger? Oh goodness… I should just hand this instrument to them, shouldn’t I?” She was sweating profusely but not because of the heat.

“No Nitya. Do you think if you do that, they will let you live? You have seen their hideout for what it truly is and not what they have been showcasing to the world…” Kaka now sat on the rickety cot and continued. “…but Nitya if you think deeply, and analyse, this instrument is a guarantee of your safety at least for now. Till the time it’s with you they can’t harm you or they would have done that a long time ago. I suggest to wait this out. Let me talk to someone I know… from my Army days. I had taken voluntary discharge due to health reasons but I was in touch with one of my seniors who is no longer in the Army. Let me talk to him… it’s difficult to contact him but I will try. Let’s hand it over to the authorities and also tell them about all this… Vasai I mean.”

Nitya tried to interrupt but he held up his hand. “Nitya, I think you both should move in with me. I have an extra room and since Naman knows me there shouldn’t be a problem. My house is away from the main gate and no one can see it directly. I rarely have visitors since I am not very active outside but if we do, I have installed cameras outside so that shouldn’t be a problem….”

Why on earth did Kaka instal cameras? This was a lower middle-class housing society. Who would want to steal here? Was there something kaka wasn’t telling her? But at that moment she couldn’t think of anything else. She had to keep Naman away from social glare and any other place would mean having to handle his meltdown. It would call for attention and give them away.

So, at the dead of the night, Nitya and a drowsy Naman hugging his ‘computer’ swiftly moved into Kamble kaka’s home. Nitya only took a few of her and Naman’s clothes and the letters. Kaka advised her not to clear the house. It should look lived in.

That night at around 3AM, Kamble kaka checked in on his young guests who were fast asleep. Naman was sleepy as it is but even Nitya, despite all that happened, was fatigued to the core and with the throbbing leg, popped in a painkiller and was dead to the world. He smiled as he shut the door to their room.

He walked into his room and after latching the door, he opened his cupboard and drew out a box. He opened it and took out a mobile phone. It was an old model that wasn’t available anymore. He dialled a number from memory and waited. In between he pressed a different  number combination. After a while the green light shone indicating a secure connection.

He spoke. “Hello, Captain Rawat, Unit 2 reporting. Its time. The parcel is secured along with the holders. What are my instructions?”

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 10

Despite everything, Nitya had made up her mind to meet Sajid today. She deserved answers for what he did to Naman. The very thought was causing her blood to boil and she requested the old man in Hindi.

“Will you take me there? I… I have to meet someone.”

The old man seemed to ponder for a while. She added. “I will pay… um… extra money”

The man nodded and after about 20 minutes of the ride from a well-laid road to a muddy stone laid one, they reached a secluded area. It was almost 6 PM and the moisture-pregnant clouds were hovering above her, plunging the place to a dark and gloomy dome. It didn’t help… it was an eerie feel. The place seemed like a no man’s land. There were two hillocks… and a narrow pathway winding inside. She couldn’t see where, though.

“Beta… you have to walk from here. This place belongs to… those people…” the old man hesitated.

“You mean… Muslims?” but she had seen them everywhere. So, what was about this place?

“Nahi beta… not ordinary ones. They … I mean, they are not from here. They are the refugees…”

“You mean, Bangladesh?” she wasn’t much in up-to-date with the daily news but had heard about the trickling refugees across the border on the East.

“na… na… Beta… the other border… is taraf…”

“Pak… Pakistan…?” She shuddered. “…but how are they here then?”

“Look Beta, They are legitimate on paper… not many people. Bahut saal ho gaya. But we know they are no good. We have tried to complain to authorities but there is no evidence. Besides they contribute a lot to the local politicians. Different Visa to stay here. I don’t know the details. But they have been here since 2012. They haven’t harmed anyone… but we suspect they… I mean… women… you know… so be careful.”

Nitya was still trying to digest this absurd possibility. How can such a tiny township even exist in the corner of this place? Virar was huge and flooded with people then how come these people managed to ensnare a property like this. But she looked around as she alighted the auto. There was nothing in the name of infrastructure here. No trees, no markets… nothing. She shook her head still trying to wrap her mind around this all. A chill breeze shivered her to the core. It felt like she had come to an alien world. Was she dreaming?

Despite her bravado, Nitya was questioning her decision to come here…

Should she go back? No… not after all the trouble she took to get here.

“Beta bahut time lagega kya? Nahi tho wapas jaane ke liye rukta hu…(If you aren’t taking long I shall wait for you to go back)” the man offered and Nitya was touched. She had never thought of that.

She nodded and requested him to wait for her promising to pay him the waiting charges.

She scurried towards the winding pathway. Within a minute it emerged into a new world… with sparse population. The entire place looked like a deserted island. There were little children playing around and didn’t bother to give her a second glance. There were a couple of what appeared to be hardware and general stores and the few men in there, stared at her as she walked past. Their looks pierced her bare hands and she had to hug herself. All scarce houses or buildings around looked identical, and she decided to give herself just a few minutes more before heading back.

She couldn’t see a single woman outside.

She called out to a little kid and asked him where was Mansood Minar. The little boy who was barely 8 smiled and pointed towards a structure right behind where she stood.

The old minar stood tall. It seemed a lot older than 12 years… so must have existed before these people came in. It was partially obscured by mist and dirt and grime covered the weathered stones. As she approached the structure, the rainy breeze, rustled through the structure creating eerie whispers. Dim lights flickered somewhere inside and the sliver of shadows moving around hinted at the presence of humans in the place.

As Nitya placed one trembling foot before another, she heard a commotion and stilled. Every one of the minuscule population she had witnessed minutes ago, ran helter-skelter and a stream of vehicles came to a halt in front the minar. She quickly hid herself in the shadow of a large pillar hoping it wouldn’t give away… it’s structure or her presence. Her heart galloped attempting to spring out of her chest confines. She turned around, her back to the pillar and her eyes fell on a dilapidated structure… a few metres away. It was a hospital from the looks of it and its lone presence loomed, its evenly placed broken windows glowed faintly, casting its soft lights on the lawn outside… a lawn that probably was once green but was now filled with wild weeds.

Was this indeed Mumbai? What was cooking up here? Where the hell was Sajid? A movement at the corner of the hospital building drew her fearful eyes. A board dangled on its last legs precariously, ready to fall at a huge gust of wind. Her eyes widened as she read the name on it… the English version below the Urdu one…

Mohammad Ali Jinnah Trust Hospital… Oh goodness… M A J trust… that’s it. Sajid hadn’t lied after all. Her searching eyes with her pacing heart further landed on a neighbouring house… it wasn’t really a house though. Just a single-storeyed structure. Beads of sweat adorned her forehead, her palms paradoxically chilled like her core as she read another flail board, on the structure. But the name was only in Urdu… With trembling hands, she clicked a picture. She had to figure it out later.

Nitya didn’t want to wait a moment longer in this place that reeked of something untoward. Something that she couldn’t put a finger to. As she was about to turn around, she heard screams… some guy screaming and halted in her tracks. It wasn’t very loud because it came from the direction of the other structure near the hospital building. The architecture was an absolute cul-de-sac and she couldn’t see the other end of the minar which probably had a back entrance to that structure. She had almost forgotten why she was hiding there in the first place. She peeped outside towards the direction of the vehicles she had seen earlier. The vehicles were still there with a couple of guards standing in vigilance next to them. It was getting darker now and the light drizzle had given rise to the petrichor redolence that engulfed her… she loved the earthy fragrance and it instantly calmed her.

She couldn’t go back yet till the guards were there. But it looked like they would go away soon. She tip-toed her way to the structure next to the hospital… from where the screams had ceased…

The structure wasn’t well looked after and there were cracks all over the walls. The windows were all shut completely. She walked towards a shed attached to the side wall, hoping she could hide there as she explored. Her heart pounded… she was brave but right now her brevity ditched her. She waited for her breathing to settle and slowly made her way out of the shed to the nearest window. Though she was very tall, she couldn’t reach it. Looking around she found an empty discarded tin… like the ones found in grocery stores. She placed it strategically beneath the window and climbed up, precariously balancing herself… her fitness helped to do so.

She gently pried the window and the door nudged away a tiny bit. Fortunately, it didn’t make noise or even if it did, there was loud talking going on inside, that camouflaged the noise. It was a dimly lit space and she saw a group of men standing in a circle. Their outfits didn’t look any different from the men around but their dialect was different for sure. She turned her head and stuck her ear in the tiny crevice made by the partially opened window, all the time struggling to keep her footing on the tin that shook all the time.

“How much more time do you need…? I am running out of patience…” A deep baritone resonated along the room, it’s eerie vibrations hitting Nitya’s ears as she strained to understand what was going on.

“Janab… it isn’t that easy. The girl is tenacious… her claws run deep…” Another deep voice spoke.

“Then cut off the claws, damn it… can’t you manage one girl?” The earlier man bellowed and Nitya shivered.

“But Janab… we have been trying… in fact Ashfaq has been at it for 5 years now…” the other man tried to explain.

SLAP….

It definitely was a slap and Nitya almost recoiled in fear as if she had been hit.

The earlier man lashed out. “How dare you talk back. Do you know how much money we have spent so far on you idiots? You remember what Kadir had done, don’t you? If you don’t compensate for his misdeeds then Allah won’t forgive you but before that I wont spare you… I can’t prevent the frequent run-ins with this government now… We are being watched with Hawk eyes and the coffers are drying….Medical tourism no longer can be a cover for us. It won’t be long before the greedy politicians who have been covering for us raise their ugly heads and serve ours on a platter to the Indian Army… Do you want that?”

“I am sorry, Janab… just give us a little more time. We are almost there. If nothing we will abduct the boy… and ….”

“DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. I GIVE YOU A WEEK… AFTER WHICH I SHALL KILL YOU BOTH.”

Nitya shivered in the evening breeze and places a hand on her mouth to prevent the gasping sound that escaped her lips.

“Ja… Janab please spare my son… he has only been working towards the goal… he almost got caught today….” the other man fumbled.

“Look, your mistake is that you are related to that Kadir who betrayed us and our mission for which we suffered for more than 15 years. Your son too must bear the fruits of your past… Our upcoming mission this December must take place. Otherwise, the high command will have our hides and this is the last chance for us to redeem ourselves after what happened 15 years ago….” The first man’s tone had slightly softened.

“I promise Ashfaq will try harder… the girl is too rigid… we will go after the boy. He is a dimwit I believe but Asfaq will tame him soon.” The other man continued.

There was a momentary silence as she heard shuffling and Nitya turned her head to peep in again. The tall man walked with a limp and he looked familiar… rather the stance and built appeared as if she had seen him somewhere before. But where? What was going on?

The large man moved a little even though she tried racking her brains… She was sure she had seen him somewhere.

There were a few other men holding sticks who moved and the big man held someone seated, by the hair and pulled back his head even as he grunted in pain.

“This is my last warning, Ashfaq. Get that thing to us by hook or crook… kill the boy for all I care but the crime shouldn’t lead the authorities to us… do you understand?”

The man further moved away towards another man waiting with a towel, and wiped his hands clean. Nitya strained her neck and went on her toes to see clearly as the men with sticks started to clear the room and the big man took out his mobile phone. Scrolling through the phone he indicated for the switches to be turned on.

The second man obliged and soon the room was flooded with bright light. Nitya squinted and saw, the walls in front of her line of vision, were lined with different electronic equipment, blinking away unconcerned.

But what she saw next shook her to the core…

Tied to a wooden chair, right under the harsh glare centre light was Sajid whose body was battered and bruised.

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 9

Nitya patted her stiff cotton kurta for the nth time as she waited for an auto that would take her to the railway station. She had to change trains at peak hours to reach Virar and that was a nightmare. But she didn’t have a choice… the worst of all was, she didn’t know where exactly Sajid lived. They had never come to a point where they could discuss his personal life.

Sajid had in passing told her he was brought up by his mother, a widow, who had to struggle to make ends meet after his father passed when he was barely 10. He had 2 younger siblings who were studying in a boarding school and the similarities in their backgrounds were what probably held her attention to his ventures.

Similarly, once when Sajid had accompanied her with her mom to the psych ward when she had overdosed on her sleeping meds, he had passingly mentioned some doctor in Virar’s M.A. J. trust hospital who had helped his mother deal with depression years ago… he had discussed the line of treatment with the attending doctor here as well and the incident stayed in her memory. Nitya was hopeful to find him close to the said hospital… at least she hoped to. He was supposed to be popular and he often spoke about being a club member. The name was something that began with ‘BUTT….’.

She had found it odd at the time, but she was too caught up with her issues at home to have thought about it further. Now as her auto cruised noisily along the road leading to Bhandup station, she cursed herself for not prodding more… and to think about marrying the guy! She shuddered at the thought. Now… that was a first. Whatever her feelings for Sajid were or hereby lack of it, fear never had a place among them. So why was this cropping up now? Was it because of what he did to her innocent brother?

She hugged herself as the warm afternoon breeze hit her. She had to face this. She had faced a lot of battles in her life and this was yet another one… yes that’s it.

Your problem shouldn’t have a rein over you… it should be the other way round. Now, how did this thought come into her mind? Was it her father? No… her heart skipped a beat. Maanav had said that years ago. He often said it… so she remembered it clearly as if it was yesterday. Why was she thinking of him? Probably the turn of events in the past few days, finding the hidden pictures, letters… everything was messing with her head.

Surprisingly, a sense of calm settled in her heart as she alighted from the auto to walk into the railway station.

As she stared at the speeding track from the window of the train, Nitya felt the emotional conundrum overwhelm her chest confines. A tiny headache began to take root as she inhaled the putrid air as the train passed over a ‘nala’. She wanted to gag… it was then she realized she had barely eaten anything in the fiasco that happened. She was feeling nauseous.

The woman selling ‘chikkis’ and ‘farsan’ screeched in her high-pitched voice urging the select women in the compartment to buy her wares. Thank God for small blessings… Nitya bought a couple of chikki packets and voraciously dug into them. But the headache was far from gone. She soon changed trains at the busy Dadar station… and squeezed herself to fit into the compartment, bursting at its seams. Fast train was out of question so the slow train had to do despite the time constraint she faced.

A while later she could stand without being squashed and could breathe but now had a mother of all headaches throbbing in…

At Vile Parle, a woman hustled in with her little boy and a little older girl. The boy was physically disabled and the girl helped the mother settle him into the fourth seat… the typical seat allotment process in crowded Mumbai locals. Nitya had balanced half her butt on the opposite ‘fourth seat’ and watched the display of affection by the girl who wasn’t over 12 for her little brother, who seemed oblivious to his surroundings. The other people only stared or passed subtle hushed remarks, but that didn’t deter the girl one bit.

Nitya was thrown back to the times when she had faced something similar with her brother, particularly when the Mumbai attacks happened and the fiasco that followed her family after her father was called one of the ‘accused’ She recalled the days of being hounded by the media… ‘the traitor’s family…’ they were called and for a long time they were on the headlines of the local newspapers. Her mother had been depressed and, for a while, with the help of a few sympathetic neighbours who knew them, they sustained. Her mother had got a job as a Kinder Garten teacher in a private school because they paid very little and didn’t demand a colorful resume. Her mother retained her maiden name. Her job helped them sustain for a couple of years. Their savings were already exhausted by then.

However, another blow hit them in the form of her brother’s diagnosis. Her mother, who was hanging by a fragile thread of hope for a better life, was distraught. The neighborhood got a new terminology, added to the string of insults hurled towards the trio. Even the couple of them who supported the Mohandas had made a complete about-turn. Nitya realised how important money was to command respect in society irrespective of your backgrounds.

Nitya grew-up overnight. From 11 she was 15. She had to understand everything around her as well as support her brother and the wreck of a mother. There had been instances of that ‘accidental touch’ or a ‘shove’ where a hard hand hit her delicate chest… She knew something wasn’t right, but was too young to understand the gravity of it all. All her martial arts training fell flat. She missed her father and missed… Maanav. He would have known how to tackle this crap.

One night when she was about 14, Nitya couldn’t sleep because her brother had been awake till 2 AM before finally sleeping off. She, however, couldn’t and that night her mother had a job to attend. Her mother never mentioned what work she did these days since the KG teacher job no longer existed. The woman no longer chatted with Nitya and Naman, nor did she cook and clean for them. Nitya burnt her dainty skin many times before she learned to use the crude cooking stove that had replaced the gas stove. They faced blackouts often because they couldn’t pay the electricity bills on time. Kamble kaka their new neighbour knew Appa hence he helped behind the prying eyes of his suspicious wife. He often slipped in food and money and walked away even before Nitya could thank him.

She often felt reassurance whenever kaka was around. She felt safe. Kaka had also helped her secure admission to a local municipality school for her last two schooling years. She would play with her brother and kept talking to him all the time when she was home, not understanding why he didn’t talk back or respond to her.

That sleepless night she stared out of their home picking at the piece of plaster that had joined the series of those coming off the wall, trying to silence the abuses and taunts that came her way very often or a recent fight she abstained from participating in school. She couldn’t afford to call for attention to herself. This was their other home after they had left the earlier one because they couldn’t pay the home loan anymore. Their savings had all dried up. Nitya teared up wondering if she would ever meet her appa. If yes, she would want him to explain all this to her. Why did they have to suffer like this?

That night, she walked to the kitchen window right in time to see the bright headlights of a vehicle. It didn’t look familiar and Nitya had a strong memory. The strange-looking vehicle reached the entrance of the housing colony and she saw her mother alight from the passenger side. Amma had worn a gaudy sequined saree, but… when had she changed? And why did amma look frightened?

A tall man emerged from the driver’s side. From her point of vision Nitya only saw his back and extremely short hair. Was he limping? He was taller than any man she had seen in her little life. He walked towards her mother even as she stepped back and held her by the shoulder. He was shaking the woman and her mother looked terrified. Nitya was furious. She wanted to go and hit the man but saw a sleeping Naman and sat back. The man let go of her mother who fell backwards on the pavement, her saree pallu falling off, revealing the shapeless blouse beneath. But her mother did not attempt to stand even after the vehicle had left.

Nitya didn’t care anymore. She rushed out of the house leaving the door wide open and not bothering about the chill night breeze slapping her tall bare limbs in the sorry example of a dress. Nitya was yet to remember the last time she got a new dress… that was probably for her 9th birthday, the last one she had celebrated.

Nitya reached her mother, who stared back at her with eyes so haunted, Nitya would never forget in this lifetime. Her reed-thin hands lifted the pallu off the pavement and she helped her mother stand. The mother-daughter duo walked back home on autopilot. Nitya had long learned not to ask questions.

Her mother plonked on the floor as soon as she entered home and lay down, curved in a fetal position. She shivered and began to cry, muffling her sobs by stuffing a part of her pallu into her mouth. Her poorly worn makeup had smudged ages ago…

Nitya brought a wet rag and wiped her mother’s face even as the woman continued to weep. Nitya then brought her a glass of water. Ignoring her hunger pangs due to a skipped dinner of dry hard rotis and watery daal that her mother had prepared that morning, Nitya spoke.

“Amma, do you want to eat something? Let’s go to bed otherwise.”

Her mother stared at her with bloodshot eyes. She seemed a different woman that night.

“Nitu…” her mother called her with her nickname after years and it thrilled her no end. “…Your appa… he messed up…he destroyed us… we are done for. What will happen to Naman? What will happen to you…? Why did your appa do it…?”

“Amma… was Appa really wrong?” Nitya had never understood.

“I don’t know Nitu… I don’t know anything. Not only did he betray the country… he gave us something too and they… they will kill us all… if… if we didn’t give it…”

“What did Appa give us?” Sleep-deprived Nitya was confused. Was this a nightmare?

“I wish I had known… I pleaded with them… I don’t have anything… but they didn’t listen. Torturing me for months despite doing… everything for them…” she panted as she stared at her calloused hands devoid of life. “… They said … I was acting… Gave me a week. Nitya…” She suddenly sat up. “…we… we… we have to leave this place. It’s dangerous. They will catch us… kill us… no… they will take you away… make you pay… no…” Her mother was panting.

Fear churned her insides and Nitya gripped her mother’s frail hands. Hands which had once been so soft as they caressed her head, putting her to sleep a lifetime ago.

“Nit… Nitya…” her mother spoke with a faraway look, her voice laced with fear. “…Just pack up. We will take turns holding Naman…”

“Amma… I am tired now…”

SLAP…

This wasn’t the first time her mother had raised her hand on Nitya. Nitya stayed away from her path and did whatever was expected of her… and the beatings had reduced to almost nil. But today Nitya was stunned.

“You are just like your father… don’t you realise we are doomed? Do you want to end up doing what I am doing now? Sell your soul? Should I kill myself and rid you of all trouble? Or even better, should I kill you both and then kill myself?”

“Le… lets go amma…” Nitya conceded.

They disappeared late that night struggling along some graveled path. Nitya didn’t know how long they walked with their meagre belongings and for the next few weeks, they stayed at a women’s shelter. Her mother worked as a maid and Nitya doubled up as a helper too. She attended a school for laborer children conducted by some NGO which also fed her well. She helped the NGO by teaching some martial arts to the little kids there. It helped her stay afloat and safe from predators that came in different forms when they saw a newly blooming young girl without the safety net of a family.

She was good at studies and the Aanganwadi tai always said she could work and earn if she studied. So, Nitya poured herself into learning. The next few years were tough as she grew in the unsung lanes of Mumbai were her mother attempted menial jobs to earn her keep in the shelter. With the help of the associated NGO, Nitya began to train further in martial arts at a sponsored program for girls. She took to instructions like fish to water.

Naman was also liked by children around him and though he had meltdowns which troubled her mother driving her into one of those moods, Nitya was alright. She was always there for the boy. To supplement her income, she began to tutor other children as well in the NGO-run school shelter.

She managed to finish her 12^th grade with utmost difficulty and by then her mother had already begun to be heavily medicated with depression spreading its tentacles deeper into her soul. Nitya took up a job as a trainer in a gym that didn’t pay much but helped her gain work experience and later she worked as a receptionist in the night shift at a nearby hotel. It assured a variety of food once in a while for her brother and other children in the shelter.

Within a year, she managed to save up and move to a chawl close to her gym. That saved her travel time and by now her mother had to stop working. Her medication dictated her behaviour. Nitya was OK since her mother could now watch over Naman who was having a tough time coping with hormonal changes that hit him badly. His doctor in charge decided to mildly medicate Naman as well. That helped him have a good sleep and his mood was chirpy during the day.

Life in obscurity was Ok for the next couple of years and Nitya was doing fairly well to cover treatment and training costs for her brother and also her mother. She had also begun studying for her degree via distance learning though she never got the time to study. She hoped to get a better job.

However, her mother deteriorated further. One day Nitya accidentally met Kamble kaka after years and he suggested they move to a good community in Bhandup. His wife had passed by then. He promised to help her.

Nitya saw this as an opportunity and was pondering over it when she got an offer from a good gym as an instructor. It was close to where Kamble kaka suggested staying and she jumped at the opportunity. It would also allow her to start fresh where no one knew her.

The loud horn blasting from a train coming from the opposite direction startled Nitya bringing her out of her reverie… he realised almost an hour had just passed in her journey to her past. She still had about 5 minutes to alight at Virar station and moved towards the doorway.

As she exited the station at Virar and went to the autorickshaw stand, no one seemed to know about the trust hospital she mentioned. That was strange… She had Googled the location, and it did exist, though there wasn’t anything specific. Oh yes…. Butt club, Mansood Minar. That was mentioned close by.

She asked at the waiting auto for Mansood Minar. Many pairs of wide eyes stared back at her as if she were an alien. No one answered her and they moved away.

As she stood in the rising and ebbing crowd around her, lost in thought, clueless about what to do next, an old man walked towards her.

“Beta kidhar ko jaana hai? (where do you want to go?)” the man probably in his seventies asked her. He looked like an auto driver.

“Ye… Mansood Minaar jaana hai kaka…”

“Udhar pe kisko jaanti ho beta? (whom do you know there?)” the man seemed curious and Nitya’s patience was hanging by a bare thread.

“Kyon pucha, kaka?(why do you ask)” She asked.

The man looked around him as then back at her.

“Beta udhar koi nahi jaata… woh sahi jagah nahi hai… Udhar ke log udhar ka pata nahi puchte… seedhe jaate hain…” (no one goes there. It isn’t a good place. People going there don’t ask for the address. They just go)

Nitya felt a chill down her spine.

Was Sajid for real?

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 8

Young Maanav was confident. The plan was perfect. The leader of their pack was a 20-year-old Ratan, a muscular guy from the wrong side of the tracks… so were the others. Infiltrating the gang took time for Maanav since he was fair and came from money. There was immense prejudice against him and he had to impress Ratan with his martial arts skills that made them look up to him. They loved his guts especially when they heard about his exploits from the Graffiti gang days.

After teaching him the basics of picking pockets, they took him along to a few tourist hubs in and around Mount Abu. He had made a kill on his debut run and his share amounted to 20000 INR. While others watched in awe, Maanav didn’t care. He didn’t need the money. His father had left him enough in the form of bonds, investments and properties that he would inherit on completing 18. He didn’t know who managed all that but his money orders were received on time every month.

He handed over the 20000 back to Ratan to treat the boys, earning him further brownie points. He soon rose to fame… remembering the fixed motto of the pick-pocketing gang, a Houdini saying, ‘A pickpocketer had to be well dressed and of prepossessing appearance’.

He suited the bill well and no one in the wildest of dreams would assume the handsome young guy in a suit seated in the foyer of the 5-star hotel was actually a thief. He was very good at blending, a virtue received from and honed by his late father. He had made a good fortune in the span of 6 months and returned it all to Ratan and the gang. He wanted to feel belonged and his reliance on drugs was now low as well. He had started to workout too…

Then came a golden chance to cement his name in the world of petty crimes. Ratan had this offer to loot the Pune Howrah Durronto Express. It was relatively a new line at the time and besides the Rajdhani, the elite train travellers used the Durronto… It was also the Navratri ending phase and people were travelling back to their workplaces from their home town in Kolkata. There was a huge wedding party travelling back too. An estimated jewellery heist would procure them a good amount. The money didn’t matter to Maanas, but the adrenaline rush of doing something against the law had its thrill…

The Durronto was to slow a bit at a particular place near Raipur Junction. That was the research the gang had done for weeks. Maanas boarded the train at Howrah along with a couple of the fairer gang members. He was well dressed and had reserved seats so no one got an inkling of their motive.

The bogie turned dark as the lights were switched off at around 1 AM.

Maanav’s fellow gang members began their MO and immediately set to their jobs. The marriage party members fell unconscious in their slumber. It was to be a cakewalk for Maanav to make them lighter of their valuables.

However, what they didn’t know was the groom’s side belonged to generations of defence servicemen. They were seated at the far end and till the gang got closer they didn’t know these were army men in casual clothes. By the time Maanav realized it was too late. His friends were caught while he managed to hide on time. He didn’t take the jewelry along so the people got busy consolidating their valuables. The train began to slow down at Raipur but the Army men were worried about the unconscious relatives and called the train to a complete halt.

In the chaos that followed, the police rushed in and began combing the bogies. Maanas used the distraction to jump on the tracks and make his escape. To his surprise, he didn’t care about the ‘gang’ anymore.

From there he travelled for hours on foot and almost starving himself. He changed trains and finally reached Mumbai…

However, it was barely 2 years since his father was martyred and coming to the city hit him hard. He was slipping into an abyss of pain. It was then he realized what he had been doing… He thought of Chandran and Nitya and her brother… he was to make things better for them. How did he land up like this? He hated himself.

By habit he clutched at the locket around his neck… but this time he tugged it harder than usual and he heard a snap… the locket opened suddenly. Surprised he unlocked the thin chain and checked… there was a tiny chit in multiple folds in the locket. The locket was the only piece of jewelry in his father’s belongings so he had worn it after his father passed.

He unfolded the letter standing in the shade outside the CST railway station.

My boy

You are reading this means, I am no more and you are messed up.

Call 91———- Captain Rawat. He will know it all. He will be your guardian.

• Deshmukh

Even in such a letter his father never used words like your dad or my dear son…

But at that moment Maanav began to cry… for the first time after his father’s passing… he cried for not being able to understand his father who was always protecting him. He realized, his father loved him in his own way.

Without a second thought, he rushed to one of the only two phone booths and dialled the number on the chit. He had no mobile phone. He had relinquished it after joining Ratan. Now, he barely had money on him so it was important to save every cent.

He just had to identify himself and his father’s letter and the gruff voice on the other end only hummed. He was asked to wait right where he was for half an hour.

As told, exactly half an hour later a man in black overalls identified him and gave him a tiffin filled with modest khichdi. It was barely warm but given that he hadn’t eaten anything for hours, Maanav wolfed it at a go, while the man, a firm-looking guy who appeared on a constant state of alert, skimmed the busy area around them. He looked like a soldier and Maanav could make out because he had seen so many of their ilk because of his father. A while later they boarded a state transport bus and Maanav who was physically and mentally exhausted dozed off. After ages, it seemed like he didn’t have to be vigilant… When he woke up after what seemed like hours, the man asked him to alight. They had no luggage so it was easy to make the trek… The place…wherever it was, was picturesque with lush greenery around them. The winter rains had just subsided and the rustic redolence calmed his senses.

He knew he would eventually get the answers so he didn’t ask anything and the duo just kept walking.

After about an hour they stood outside a large gate. It was a school… an army prep school of some sort. The huge done like structure over the gate read “Sainik Gurukul”

So this was what his father had planned for him? he wondered as he took in his surroundings. He didn’t know if he qualified for any of this… but the only thing mattered at that moment was getting himself back on track. If this was what it took, so it be.

As the duo walked in the man spoke to the guards on duty at the gate and made a call on the intercom. All this while Maanav looked around the premises. There was a board titled ‘The Army Welfare Residential School – The Sainik gurukul’

It felt like he had come into a new world. He inhaled the tranquil air crisp and fragrant with the scent if marigolds and a number of flowers he didn’t know the names of. Mud-covered winding paths connected stone-walled buildings that looked like dormitories and at the end of the row stood the undisputed school building in its proud glory. There was a lot more beyond that but this was where Maanav’s visual boundaries ended. Was there a stream somewhere? The gentle harmonics created a symphony of vibrant tunes with the avian friends above amidst the canopy of trees…

In the soothing cacophony he could hear some kind of screaming from the distance indicating there were children and at the same time he suddenly felt like a fish out of water. He had a miserable couple of years… he hadn’t touched his books, and if these people checked with his earlier school, they wouldn’t get anything favorable to hear. Would he be abandoned and all alone… yet again?

He shuddered at the thought. He had wanted to escape everything by taking the forbidden paths… at least there would be no abandonment…

He was startled as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

He turned around to see a tall, middle-aged man with broad shoulders dressed in a white full-sleeved shirt and crisp black trousers with an extremely calm and composed stance staring into his eyes. He seemed familiar… had they met before? He wasn’t sure.

“Welcome, son, welcome to this gurukul. I am captain Rawat. I hope you like this new beginning to your life and take things seriously from now on. This country needs men like you. Are you ready?” The gruff baritone mesmerised him. And he called him… ‘son’. Something mellowed in his heart. There were no questions asked from either side. He just nodded.

The other man who had brought him here had disappeared. Captain Rawat walked ahead and Maanav followed him on auto pilot. In the last 24 hours he had almost looted a train bogie, almost gotten arrested for the second time in his life and this would have been catastrophic and with the same time frame, he had got a chance towards new beginnings.

He wondered what his father must be thinking from wherever the man was… would he be happy about this? He probably would be because Maanav was following his path after all.

A lone through cruised along… what would Nitya say about this? Maanav stumbled on a pebble as he wondered why Nitya wobbled into his thoughts at that moment. He hadn’t heard about her at all… not even once when he tried exploring through the online resources available to him. It was like she had disappeared from the face of the earth…. He made it a point to look for her once he became capable enough to do so. He was sure she wouldn’t be in danger because of him anymore… since his father was out of the picture.

Captain Rawat showed him his dormitory. He was to share it with another guy a little older to him to join them soon. The name tag on the bunker bed read ‘Shiv Ranjan Chouhan’.

The captain had already kept a few sets of clothes for him neatly folded on his bed. They were a bit faded and definitely used but he didn’t complain. Right then he made it a resolve to use this as an impetus to achieve his goals and whatever Captain Rawat had planned for him.

From then on began a period of change filled with rigorous training, both in academic and physical fitness. Shiv who came in a little after him became his best friend and he also cared about him like an older brother. A year later they were moved to a new room along with a new roommate named Avinash Thakur. Avinash’s twin sister Anandi was there in another dorm and soon the four became inseparable. The 3 boys always trained together under the watchful eyes of the Captain. The rigours were so intense that they had no time for anything else apart from the Gurukul regime.

Maanav observed that other students didn’t receive training like they did. Though the trio discussed this in their dorm, they didn’t dare ask the captain.

This continued for a few years until they graduated and got selected for ground duty.

They realised that the four of them were trained for eventually getting into the super Ops segment of the Indian Army. The part of the Army free from the bureaucratic tug and with secret missions. The four pledged their alliance for the same and started off on the tough training journey. They were separated nationwide as they began their specialised training and basic-level missions. But they made it a point to meet in the gurukul once a year. They were in touch with each other through a special phone that each of them had and only could connect to each other. There was no way the signals could be intercepted. Shiv had arranged it from somewhere, and he excelled at stealth. So they practically knew what each of them was upto.

Though Maanav felt he had found his calling in life that revolved around his missions and his friends, he still felt a lacuna… a sense of unfulfillment and he knew what that was. Nitya. An unresolved chapter from his childhood, the source of his nightmares that had become scarce but existed nonetheless. He connected with Chandran once in a while in his line of work. During one such time, he requested Chandran to search Nitya on the web. But all searches came up empty to his astonishment.

If anyone could locate a person anywhere in the world it was Chandran who had access to the best systems possible. However, Nitya wasn’t found, meant… one of the two reasons. Either she was dead or she had changed her identity. He couldn’t digest the fact that she was no more… his heart didn’t concede to the fact. That only could mean she was in hiding… but why? Was she in danger?

He had tried to find out details when he had made a couple of rare visits to his Pune home but no one knew of her existence… He had vowed to find out about her by hook or crook. The situation was frustrating. His friends knew about his history because of his nightmares. Shiv, the ever perceptive of them all had suggested he wait and not ruffle feathers that could get him in trouble and by default Nitya, in case she were hiding.

The wait had been prolonged and here he was years later wondering what was in store for him… his face had been revealed on the terrace in that last mission and also his decision to call in help without a sanction from his handlers hadn’t gone down well with the higher-ups. He knew that meant the end of special ops for him.

Shiv had suggested subtly, that he join the SPS. He realized he now wanted to do so… Probably that would open other avenues for him.

And there was that package with him as well… his father’s last gift he had received while leaving Sainik Gurukul. He also got to know that Captain Rawat was the man who managed his trust fund. His father must have trusted the Captain immensely to have handed over the responsibility of such a magnitude.

The sofa creaked as Maanav stood up breathing heavily and walked to his bedroom. The pain had subsided but still feebly lingered on as he moved. Opening the wardrobe, he moved clothes in the bottom rack and opened a concealed locker. He removed the ‘gift’ and placed it on the floor right there. He had no energy to go back to the drawing room.

He opened the now-blotted letter. He had read it a few times but even today nothing made sense.

My boy

You are reading this means I am no more and your mess is sorted out. Don’t forget to thank Captain Rawat. Here’s something for you. Get your affairs in order and fill in the gaps. Complete the missing puzzle…compliment this to save the world. Remember you can’t do this alone. The bearer of the solution holds the key to your future too… Together you can prevent a catastrophe. You are meant to do this.

Good bye my boy

-Dad

That was the first time his father had addressed himself as ‘dad’. His eyes welled up as he blinked away the moisture. He wasn’t a cry baby… in fact he was emotionless and hence he could carry out those dreaded dastardly missions. But the letter always made him mushy. That’s why he had buried it here…

He took out what looked like a funny looking cordless phone only, it wasn’t. That’s all he knew. The bottom of the device had strange fixtures. He had shown it to Shiv and Avinash but they hadn’t been able to find out about the instrument either. He had researched a lot but to no avail.

What is this, dad? He spoke into oblivion. His dad never did anything without reason…

What was he missing?

He sighed… did he get this break just for this … mission that his father had left for him?

Only time would tell… or would it?

Nitya… where are you? How are you? Do you remember me? Long time….

The cascading thoughts patted by the gentle AC breeze sent him to a slumber…..

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 7

The infernous ball of fire raged at the distance even as he struggled to wake up from the darkness. He realized he was strapped to the seat with an IV running on his arm… the fire was soon a tiny blot in the sooty green sheet of herbage surrounded by dark snow… or was it the dark sky?

Wait… Nitya? Was she fine? NO… how could she be? He had escaped but she had remained… Would she have been safe if she was with him? His heart pounded…

‘You are useless, son…’ his father’s words boomed in his temple

‘Who will like a trouble maker like you? Even your mom left… she must have known you would turn like this…’ His father spoke the words when inebriated.

But why were those words hurled at him now? His father wasn’t around here…

Nitya… nityaaaa….

Maanav gasped as he sat up, his heart pounding away, threatening to rush out of his chest confines. The nightmares were frequent these days. Probably because he was idle…

He was out of hospital and back at home in Pune. He was resting after over 15 years. Till then he had no time to travel down the memory lane… the nightmares were sporadic but he would be working to the bone and would sleep off as soon as his head hit the pillow or stone or brick or whatever it was, wherever he was.

But this solitude was killing him… He had never had free time so suddenly he was gripped with a strange feeling. Shiv and Padma had insisted that he move with them till he completely recovered. But he had refused. His estate needed to be taken care of and he didn’t want to impose on the fairly new parents.

He looked around his spacious house… it wasn’t a home. Never was. His father had built it before he got married and his grandparents lived there till, they passed. He hadn’t seen them. His mother had left them when he was a baby and he didn’t remember her. He never missed her either. How could he when he didn’t have a benchmark to compare or any pictures of her?

The chiming of the clock got him out of his thoughts. It was 3AM an hour more than the earlier night. He struggled to walk to the dining hall and drink water. He had never been so injured to mandate such rest. He had prided in the fact that despite being nicknamed ‘Bullet’ there wasn’t one made with his name on it. Despite innumerable clandestine operations he wasn’t burdened by survivor’s guilt because he was trained in the manner but nightmares were a different ball game. His body was a testament to years of rigorous training and disciplined lifestyle, though now slightly softened by the lack of recent combat. His crew cut hair had started to grow for the first time in years and he wasn’t comfortable.

He stood under the shower itching to go full blast but the doctor had permitted only this much to prevent his injury from worsening. The bandage could only take so much. His bathroom was the only part of this house he had a hand in designing. He had added it on a whim when he had come back briefly in between missions. His housekeeper had gotten it done tastefully. As he looked up into the full-length mirror, He could see the dark circles beneath his eyes, amidst the cascading shower. The full grown stubble was unruly and he hadn’t bothered to shave. His haggard looks were a testimony to the sleepless nights and haunting memories…. Both from his personal life and his life as an ace sniper for the special ops. Ops that were so clandestine at times he wondered if he were a robot on a programmed mission.

His weary glance lowered down his super toned body… something he had taken care of scientifically and methodically as ingrained in the Sainik Shala. That was one common element between the four of them besides the fact that they came from broken homes. Particularly Shiv had been his anchor… his closest friend. Actually the bond between the 4 was beyond friendship.

Besides the bandaged wound, his body was like a porcelain sheet with numerous spots… his whiteish complexion was engraved by scars… each of them with hidden tales of sordid battles and close calls over the decade.

He inhaled the fresh shampoo fragrance as he lathered up his hair, this was a far cry from the acrid, smoky atmosphere he had just witnessed in his last mission or the innumerable missions before that…

An hour later he sat on the large lone couch in the larger-than-life drawing room with a thud… he could hear his breathing pounding in his ears as bout of pain shot up his chest. He let his head fall back on the headrest and inhaled deeply even as the pain showed no intentions of ebbing. He hated pain killers… and gritted his teeth as he blinked back tears resulting from the searing pain. But he also knew the pain wasn’t just superficial… he felt someone was also clenching his heart.

His mind was a combat zone of its own, refusing to vanish from his memories. Having lived his life on the constant vigilance adrenaline surge the relative peace of this mortar and brick house was jarring to his soul… the silence was deafening.

He didn’t know what to do with solitude… he never had a moment before this period.

As he stared at the ceiling fan trying to count the rotations the blades made as it sped away to glory, he was thrown down the memory lane, to the time before he became a soldier. When his life was meaningless and he went through the chore or living…. right in this house.

While his childhood sped in a blur with the stream of nannies and him being labelled a trouble maker, the scrawny yet strong Nitya was a welcome change. She almost made him want to stay on track and become something in life. He wanted to excel in martial arts and become a martial arts therapist. He knew a child his school who was physically challenged but was relentlessly bullied by the classmates. He had stood up for the kiddo but was labelled a ‘trouble maker’ because he usually was! However, that didn’t deter him from standing for what was right. As a result, the bullying ceased and he got his only friend for life… Chandran Saha. The guy was a computer genius and was currently employed with the Defence Ministry.

Maanav smiled as he thought of the only bespectacled man in a high-end wheel chair standing tall among dignitaries during conferences.

Besides Chandran, another motivating factor for his choice of career at that point was Nitya. She had mentioned about her brother who wasn’t talking and had some syndrome. He was not included in play and was often called names and ridiculed. Maanav wanted to work for the likes of them as well.

But he had forgotten, he didn’t have a right to dream big.

Just before that last camp with Nitya, his absentee father made an appearance when he was packing his backpack. It was strange because even when his father was back from his posting on holidays, he never spent time with Maanav. Many times, he went back to wherever he was serving even without meeting Maanav. So, this time when he approached him, Maanav was surprised.

“So, my boy, all done with the packing?” The deep baritone had a gentle element to it and Maanav just kept looking at this change in his father.

“Ye… yes, sir” He stood tall to his complete height. He was the tallest among his batchmates as he approached his 14^th birthday.

His father sighed as he walked along the length of his room.

“So… my boy, I have a gift for you….”

Maanav resisted the urge to pinch himself. His father never gave him gifts. No one did. If he wanted something, he had to leave a message with his caretaker and it was instantly given, no questions asked.

His father handed over a box. Maanav opened it to find a… watch!

“But dad… I mean… Sir, I have a couple of watches. I don’t…”

“…My boy…” The Colonel held up his hand and interrupted him. “… this isn’t an ordinary watch. The tiny orange button on it is a signal… for whenever you are in danger….” He paused and paced the room as he continued. “… you are aware of my newest position as the head of the NSG… I shall be taking over soon. There are many layers to it all… that’s how bureaucracy works. To cut the whole story short, by extension, you are in the eye of the storm as well… so I prefer to take precautions.”

Maanav stood like a statue trying to fathom what was going on… this was the greatest number of words his father had spoken in the last few months.

Unmindful of his thoughts his father continued. “… Just in case you think you are in danger, just press the orange button and the nearest Army base will receive the SOS. Its programmed so. They will be there to help you or evacuate you in 15 minutes maximum so you must hang in there… but my boy…” He stopped pacing and looked at Maanav who was almost his father’s height. It was then Maanav realised his father had aged tremendously… he wished his father shared something personal with him like other fathers did… or at least scolded him or said the hurtful words about his mother more often or just smiled at him….

“…My boy…” His father cleared his throat. “…this can be used just once and then it self-destroys so use it only in case of an emergency… and have you studied the map of the area?” His father had made it mandatory for him to study the area he was to visit even if it was Chandran’s home or an occasional visit to a distant relative or a rare Army event that his father took him along. Though the occasions were very rare, Maanav thrived on the task of checking out the lay of the place. It gave him a thrill of sorts and the habit was now ingrained into his being. He only nodded.

His father had later walked out of the room and a week later as he was airlifted from the Himalayan woods, he remembered his father’s parting words from that evening.

“Remember, my boy, the enemy is not always visible and evident… trust no one but yourself. Reasons are aplenty why some things fall apart… Omnia causa…”

What was all that about?

Maanav struggled to stand up and walk to the dining table to pick a fruit. He didn’t have an appetite but his body needed fuel to function and recover.

He gently sat back on the couch, now that the pain had started to recede. He only hoped he hadn’t pulled any stiches or worse damaged and internal organ… he had his follow up visit at the hospital the next day… actually that same day, given the timing!

As he bit into the luscious fruit a gift from Shiv and Padma, straight from their plantations, he remembered the day he woke up in the hospital after the camp evacuation.

The antiseptic redolence hit his senses making him want to gag… why was he feeling so lethargic? All of a sudden, he remembered what had happened. His eyes struggled to open as panic gripped him. How was Nitya? Was she safe?

He struggled to sit when a rough baritone spoke up. “You should lay still, my boy, you are in shock.”

What was his father doing here? Where on earth was he?

As if hearing his thoughts his father walked towards his bed. He was in formal clothes. On his gesture the orderly helped the bed up and Maanav was now inclined enough to see the pristine hospital room.

“Where…? I mean…” he tried to speak but his mouth felt like he had eaten saw dust.

His father held up his hand. “Wait and hear me out, my boy… as expected you were in danger. But all went well and you are safe now. Good thinking.”

While he was surprised to hear the first ever praise from his father, he used every ounce of his energy and spoke. “Nnnn…nitya?”

His father sighed and spoke. “The girl is safe. If you want her to remain so, stay away from her… in every possible way. No phone calls…nothing at all…”

Though elated at knowing about her safety, his heart broke into a million pieces… he had only one friend besides Chandran and Nitya was very close with whom he could share his personal stories. And now that was abruptly ending as well. He knew his father wouldn’t answer any of his questions.

That was the month of August 2008… his birthday was coming up and this time he had hoped to celebrate it with Nitya… a celebration for once. But it wasn’t to happen.

His father left that evening to wherever he was posted. Maanav was moved to a boarding school in Rajkot and had to severe ties with Chandran as well for the guy’s safety. Maanav didn’t know why but was sure it had something to do with his father’s job. How he wished his father would confide in him.

And then came the attack of November 2008…. The day he could never forget. If he thought his life sucked this took the cherry on the cake. He was back from practice and had to complete some assignment from school. He disliked the place but was determined to complete his studies and become someone eligible enough to reconnect with his friends.

However, that evening he got a devastating news he had never expected would shake him so much. 26/11 happened. His father died in Mumbai in the line of duty fighting the terrorists. He didn’t know what ever transpired… the details were classified. But all he remembered was him spiralling out of control.

Though his father had barely been there in person, he was the only constant in Maanav’s fleeting life. Maanav knew there was someone for him somewhere out there… a backup of sorts. But suddenly, he was all alone… he was now an orphan. He had never known his mother so she never mattered as such but this came as a huge blow. He just couldn’t take it or maybe it was the pent-up emotions for years …

His only solace was drugs… what began as a tiny whiff to calm his nerves snowballed into something huge. Within a year after his father passed, he was a junkie and the goon of his boarding school in Rajkot. He was a part of a graffiti gang too and once was taken into custody as well… however given his age and his father’s illustrious track record he was released. He never mended his ways… it was as if he was revolting against the world. His archery and martial arts classes went for a toss, and he was dropped from the state team as well. He felt no remorse whatsoever.

If this was what the Almighty had planned, so be it.

It was then he hit rock bottom. He joined a gang that was all set to rob a train…and he was all set to become a full-fledged criminal at 14 years!

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 6

Nitya slipped on a pair of jeans and T-shirt quickly and taking her wallet and a bunch of keys she rushed outside. She began to palpitate even as the auto crackled on the potholed road. She had requested the driver to take the shortcut through a ‘basti’ that would save 15 minutes that a walk took but the road was rough. She was unmindful of the driver swearing at the stray dogs, and a few stray people not bothering to give way to vehicles on the road.

Despite all her bravado, Nitya was a weakling when it came to Naman. Was he alright?

Mr. Sandhu knew everything about Nama’s condition and had taken efforts to read up and speak with Nitya regularly to understand Naman. He took care to see no one bullied Naman and Naman stayed away from people on his own accord so there was no way he would get into a fight.

Was there any accident?

She had always been frugal to save money for Naman and her mother’s treatments and pay for Naman’s classes and therapies. But at that moment as the auto sauntered ahead, she felt guilty… She should have splurged on Naman… whatever she could afford. Give him his favourite black forest pastry more often…. She aggressively wiped away the stray tear that escaped her eye despite her firm resolve not to break down.

Naman, didi is reaching soon… just hang in there, bhai.

Nitya barely took in a breath as she rushed to the floor of the enormous commercial building housing the computer class. As she approached the wing, she saw a crowd had gathered outside. There was some banging noise and she immediately knew it was Naman… given the pattern of banging. He was obsessed with rhythms….

She rushed separating the crowd.

Her heart stopped with the scene before her. Naman lay on the floor beside the overturned desks, banging on one of them with his mouse. His laptop lay next to him as he hugged it… there was a bruise on his head and he was crying. He was muttering something under his breath like a mantra… But that’s how he usually spoke, whenever he did. His speech was not clear and was in a singsong pattern. And… his shirt’s top button was put. This was bad… he couldn’t put on his buttons and couldn’t tolerate the top button shut. She had taken care every time. Was he bullied? Did someone button him up there?

But that wouldn’t have caused such a huge meltdown…

She had to know what triggered his meltdown, for the first time in public after years. But she had to calm him down first. She sat next to him and tentatively placed a hand on his back.

“Naman… sweetie… look, didi is here. Let’s go home, shall we?” she spoke softly.

Naman stopped what he was doing and turned towards her. The very next instant he hugged her and began to bawl. Nitya heard murmurs where people called him ‘pagal’ and giggles around but she was used to such humiliating and insensitive public reactions.

Ignoring them, Nitya patted him on the back just the way he liked, to calm him down and in the next instant he was quiet.  She immediately unbuttoned his collar, and Naman sighed and sat straight next to her.

Mr. Sandhu dispersed the crowd and walked in with a first aid box while his men upturned the fallen desks.

As Nitya dressed Naman’s wounds she asked Mr. Sandhu. “What happened… why did Naman do this? You know he doesn’t react like this in public… never done for a long and he loves this place…” her anxiety was choking her up.

“I am sorry Nitya…” Mr.Sandhu sighed. “…I forgot to tell you. A few days ago, a day after your mother passed, I saw a man trying to talk to Naman while he exited the building. As you had requested, I was keeping a watch. But Naman ignored the man and went ahead. The man didn’t follow him. This happened the next day as well… but the man wasn’t seen for a while. It slipped my mind totally. Then today I got late to class and as I approached the wing, I saw that man had called Naman out and was talking to him holding his shoulders… before I could get closer, Naman pushed him and …reacted the way he did. The other students were terrified and rushed out of the class and the man disappeared in the chaos…”

“Who… who was the man… any idea?” Nitya’s heart began to pound. Who must have found them after so many years?

Did someone from the past find out who Naman was? Rather, who his father was? What would she do now? How much more did they have to pay for being their father’s children?

“I don’t know him, nor did any student identify him…” Mr. Sandhu replied. “…Some said, he first buttoned Naman’s collar… but wait… the exit CCTV captured him. The image is grainy, but maybe it can help…”

She nodded and after helping Naman who had got back to his laptop with a vengeance, to sit on one of the desks, she walked with Mr. Sandhu to the office.

The plush office had a strategically placed monitor with the camera feeds. Sandhu typed in something and turned the monitor towards her.

The man had worn a cap and his face wasn’t clear at all.

But his body language was a giveaway and particularly seeing Naman’s reaction to the man, she instantly knew.

It was Sajid. What was he doing here?

“Was he the same guy who had spoken to Naman earlier as well?” She asked Mr. Sandhu.

“Yes, Nitya. I am sure, it was him. Do you know him? Should we report this… I mean, in the police station?” Mr. Sandhu sounded sceptical, and Nitya knew he wouldn’t want any negative publicity for his classes. But Nitya didn’t want attention towards them either.

“No Sandhu ji… I don’t know him. Must have been a mistaken identity… Naman must have … ov… overreacted.”

She returned home with Naman on autopilot even as she served him lunch. She checked her phone for the nth time. Sajid hadn’t replied to her message. But her break-up message was much after her mother passed… what was Sajid trying to do?

As Naman went back to his desk to get back to whatever he did usually, she sat on the lone bed in the hall. Her mother lay on it ever since they moved here and had eventually become a permanent fixture along with the bed, till she passed.

Nitya shook her head as if driving away painful thoughts as she thought about the first time, she had met Sajid.

Five years ago, she was a body double for a popular actress for an action scene. The shooting was in Film City, Goregaon, and the travel from Bhandup where she now lived, often tired her out. However, because of her vigorous workout regime, she had great stamina and shot the scenes with elegance throughout. However, that particular shot was extremely complicated and despite innumerable retakes, Nitya wasn’t able to execute it and eventually had bruises all over her arms and legs because of the harness that pulled at them. She was attended to by the on-site doctor and given painkillers. But unlike the actors she didn’t have the luxury of a vanity van and waited in the shade for the shooting to resume.

Nitya was feeling giddy and just that morning she had an argument with her mother who wasn’t answering her calls. Her mother was barely coherent these days and she was more worried for Naman, since her mother was his caregiver when she was away at work. He was manageable but if he had a meltdown triggered by something new then her mother would have a tough time and may just give up. The stress was taking its toll and she was on the verge of a breakdown.

It was then Sajid had come as a God-sent. He was the new technological unit assistant for the production house and was on on-site duty that day. He brought her a glass of Glucon D and also an umbrella which he held for her as she sat on the cloth recliner chair, he had arranged.

They got talking and after the shoot that day which was eventually moved by a couple of days to give Nitya the needed time to recover, Sajid dropped her home. He stayed somewhere in Goregaon but rode his bike all the way to drop her. Nitya was usually a reserved person always aloof given her past, but that day she was too tired and stressed to refuse him.

After that, he was often seen during her shoots whenever the production house called her, till the movie got over. Sajid would take care of her like he did most of the junior artists on the set and Nitya was impressed. She had been in the industry for a while and no one cared about her ilk.

After that, one day, after a month Sajid called her.

“Hey Nitya… Sajid this side.”

“How… how did you get this number?” Nitya wondered since she rarely shared her number with anyone.

“The production house has your details, remember?”

Nitya wondered why she was being so paranoid… but that’s what life had taught her.

“Oh..ok. So, what’s it Sajid?” Nitya came straight to the point. She didn’t know any other way.

“Uh Nitya… I left that production house and have started my firm… different production houses outsource their technical requirements to me….”

“Wow, Sajid. That’s awesome news. But it must have needed a lot of investment. The instruments are so expensive.”

“What are loans for?” Sajid quipped and Nitya was surprised by the ease at which Sajid spoke about loans. There was not an iota of worry in his voice.

“Ok then… bye.” Nitya had to rush.

“Wait Nitya…”

“Um… what is it Sajid?”

“Can we meet?”

Her guard was up as soon as he spoke those words.

“Why Sajid, you know I am busy and…” Nitya tried to put him off.

“Wait for a second Nitya, I won’t pressurize you but I wanted to talk to you about work. You can help me since you are from the industry in a way.”

“I am just a body double and know nothing about technology or computers for that matter…” It was true and Nitya often wondered if she was her parents’ daughter who were computer experts… her father was a genius till everything fell apart…

“Nitya… let’s meet just once. Please… your decided place and time?” Sajid pleaded and Nitya didn’t have the heart to refuse him given the help he had showered upon her during the shoot.

“Ok, Sajid. I shall text you the location and time…” Nitya had relented.

What began as a simple work-related meet resulted in many more meets where Sajid got her work offers and good pay as well. Nitya wasn’t complaining and she reduced the working hours at the gym taking up only select personal training accounts. It worked well because she was able to focus on Naman and her mother who had by now taken to bed after being heavily sedated.

She barely shared personal details with Sajid. He only knew her father had passed years ago and her mother was suffering from mental health issues. She hadn’t revealed much about Naman’s issues. Now that she thought about it, Nitya felt she barely met Sajid in the last 3 years. She tried to recall how much she had mentioned about Naman’s condition because she had brought him home once when Kamble Kaka was around and no one liked him. But the worst was Naman hated him. That was strange so she actively refrained from mentioning Naman whenever they spoke or met. In fact, it now dawned on her that she had reduced their meetings because of Naman.

Nitya began to pace the tiny confines of the room, thinking hard about what she had ever mentioned about Naman to Sajid. It then struck her like a thunderbolt.

Naman had a huge meltdown once when she was at her shoot and Sajid had dropped her off at the doctor’s clinic where Kamble kaka had taken him. Sajid too had rushed inside and she had immediately reacted seeing Naman’s collar button tightened. She had struggled to calm a flailing Naman and eventually had to pluck the button off.

Sajid would have known for sure. But why did he have to do this…? Why did he visit Naman in the first place? Nitya couldn’t point her finger at the cause as yet. What was she missing?

A headache made its feeble presence felt, and she rushed to the kitchen to make tea.

She checked in on Naman as the tea was boiling. The day’s excitement must have tired him out. She had given him the additional dosage of his meds so with the cumulative effect of the two, the boy was asleep on his bed, curled up in fetal position. His glasses were still on him and he had hugged his laptop. The laptop was falling apart and it was a crude second-hand one she could afford at that time, but he loved it more than anything else… No… it was in second position. On the first was that machine, or whatever it was that her late father had gifted.

Innocence stared at her from his sleeping face and she instantly teared up. The sense of being betrayed wasn’t new to her, but this time her brother was involved. The guy couldn’t fight back and yet… No this was not done. Sajid had to answer for his deeds. Was he that upset at his proposal being rejected? She had barely been seeing him for crying out loud… she hadn’t committed or promised him anything.

There was only one way to get answers. She had to meet Sajid in person. She straightened as she sipped the hot tea almost scalding her tongue. Her confidence was back… the tigress in her was striving to be let free. That was Nitya when her protective instincts were up. Whether it was years ago in that forest even though Maanav was older and stronger and knew what he was doing… or now when she had to protect her brother though he didn’t even know what was going on.

She knew Naman would sleep for the next 3 hours or so. She kept his food ready and texted Kamble kaka. He replied that he would be there in 15 minutes.

She realized it was time she faced demons instead of hiding from them….

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)

Chapter 5

Nitya sighed as she looked around the excuse of a house. Her life at the moment felt as fragile as a pack of cards. It was on tenterhooks and she was hanging by a fragile thread of hope. Hope that things will turn out well…. For Naman’s sake. She always had that lingering hope whenever things went downhill or whenever her mother had her depressive attacks…. because Naman had been doing well in the computer academy. The owner, Mr. Sandhu was a kind-hearted man who helped Naman settle into the chaotic structure and he was the one who recently told her about Naman’s exclusive hacking abilities.

Nitya often wondered what was cooking up in her brother’s complex brain. She always knew he was wired differently than the rest of them, but what was brewing in there as he sat huddled in front of that machine developed by their father?

Was he building a program? For what? And this ‘Hacking’ ability both made her feel happy and scared. How could she handle this? And what on earth was her brother … hacking? She knew her father was a genius in the field and her brother would have probably inherited the traits, but given his volatile state of mind, would he be able to handle it all? She wished she could communicate this with her brother.

Mr. Sandhu had given Naman an opportunity to develop programs for the classes. Because of the common passion between them, somehow the man was able to communicate with Naman. There was name calling and other students often passed snide remarks, but Naman never bothered anyway. He went on his rituals like clockwork.

Nitya smiled; her lips wobbly as she choked up with emotion. How much she loved her brother… he was more like a son to her. She instantly knew her decision to break up with Sajid was a good one. Speaking of which, she checked her phone. Sajid had seen her text but had not replied. He must have been upset at the abrupt end to their relationship, or whatever remained of it. But nothing was abrupt… was it? There was nothing there in the first place. No passion, no love… she barely knew the guy. She didn’t know anything about his family; now that she thought about it, she hadn’t bothered to ask Sajid. She was never curious…

Nitya chuckled at the ridiculous stream of events…. How could she be in a relationship with a guy whom she didn’t know?

For that matter, her parents seemed like strangers too. Her attention went back to the bag and she decided to keep it locked away for a while. She couldn’t get herself to throw away her mother’s stuff. Then there were those letters… her mother must have hidden them away for a reason. But her mother wasn’t herself for many years now.

I am sorry Amma but I must read these… appa’s last and only memories…

The envelopes that were white at some points of time were now yellowed and spotty. They were crumbled as well. She carefully picked them. They were disintegrating and she carefully took them apart. Appa definitely wrote it; the written ink was smudged, but it was addressed to her mother. He had tiny handwriting but wrote very neatly and despite the spread of ink; it was neat.

She placed the pieces of the first letter on the carpet and strained to read in the dim light. Somehow, the sun had decided to hide behind the clouds for today and the area was plunged into darkness. The flickering tubelight wasn’t enough for her, but at the moment the surge of emotions overshadowed everything else.

Dated: 29/11/05

Dear Prema

I hope you are all doing fine. I am doing good here. I think the money must have reached you. In our last call, you mentioned Nitya had a fever. I hope she is fine now. I don’t want to send emails because they get tracked hence the letters. Don’t worry… nothing is amiss. It’s just that this is a high-security premises so they take extra care.

I will call you soon… whenever I get the opportunity.

Love to Nitya and Naman.

Yours,

Parikshit

Nitya remembered this was the time when her father had been gone to Yemen for a few months. This was probably his first letter. She had never gotten to speak with him if and when he had called.

She spread the second letter. The date was faded off totally but she could make out it was in 2007.

Dear Prema

Why didn’t you speak with me over the phone? Do you know how tough it is to get a hand on a phone here? And what is this about moving homes? Don’t do that… how will I be in touch with you? I miss you all so much… particularly Nitya and Naman. Naman still doesn’t speak, does he? I couldn’t wire the money like I did earlier but I am saving it all somewhere. Don’t worry. It will reach you soon. You can use those FDs meanwhile. It’s just a matter of a few months.

Please don’t shift… please Prema. You don’t know what I am going through here….

But all will be fine… We will meet soon.

Yours,

Parikshit.

Nitya sat slumped on the floor wondering what was going on… she didn’t know anything that had transpired between her parents at that time. What happened to Appa? What was going on in his company?

Another letter was completely crumpled and addressed to her mother. The date was unclear.

Prema

Its… bad here. Things are going downhill. I should have listened to Colonel Deshmukh and most of all I should have listened to you. I messed it all up… I am in deep trouble and I hope this doesn’t affect you. I have started working on rectifying my mistakes. Please forgive me, Prema. I haven’t been a good husband… but trust me, I tried. I am still trying…

I don’t know when I can write more. But please trust me…

Only Yours,

Parikshit.

Nitya’s heart was pounding as if it were racing a marathon and wanted to win. There was a final letter. It was relatively neat and unopened. And it was addressed to wait… it was for her.

Her hands were trembling as she opened it.

Dated: 29/10/2008

Nitya,

I don’t know when this will reach you… I am sending this… secret channels. It’s not… well here… I can’t help it, child… Sorry for everything… You must save all… Take help. Read carefully….

Qui totum vult totum perdit

De omnibus dubitandum

Factum fieri infectum non potes

Pisces lethale in aquis profundis

dona felis summis

missio non perficitur

circulorum ut nec in aquis usque

Here lies it all….

Please do… Get the gift-circle completed…

Love

Appa

She held a hand to her chest to stop the pounding. What was all this? What language was this? Nothing made sense to her. Her father spoke many languages and that was a unique ability he possessed. His flair for languages got him side jobs for translations till he was established in the field. But what did he want to share with her… he was definitely in trouble.

And why had amma not given this to her. What exactly had happened? Her heart quickened its pace again… Appa was wronged for sure. Her gut feeling was right. Appa wasn’t involved in anything… There was no way to get any information now… the case was closed. The perps were apparently apprehended even across the border. India had executed the man caught… But what about justice for her Appa and the ruin their family faced?

Where could she find information? Would Kamble kaka know something? There was no one else to ask. What did Appa mean by ‘take help’…. What did he want to convey over 15 years ago?

Her headache intensified as if someone was running a road roller inside. The adrenaline rush at the moment was identical to the one she faced years ago when her best friend betrayed her… in those woods in Himachal.

She sat down with a thud holding the letter close to her heart. Tears streamed down her cheeks even as she remembered that day crystal clear. It seemed like it was the beginning of her agonising period…

They had run through the forest, all of a sudden. Maanav had apparently sensed something. But what? He had held her hand so she had felt secure. Initially, she thought it was a part of the camp challenge, but later as Maanav held her hands behind the tree she realised something was truly amiss. Maanav tried to hide from her but she knew it all… She was strong and tried her best to support him.

Once behind that tree, he had promised to get back. But as she waited with her heart thudding loud enough for her to hear it, there was a blast… she wasn’t sure what happened but she had fallen on her back. There was chaos and fire a little away from where she was hidden. She was too stunned to cry and was suddenly worried about Maanav. Did something happen to him?… No … no… she didn’t realise it until it stung. Her leg…a burning branch had fallen on her leg… She kicked it away but the pain was terrible. Yet she worried about finding Maanav. But as she stood, a wave of nausea took over and there was someone who held her as she fell. She didn’t know anything except that it was a man… a strong man.

“Don’t worry, beta. You are safe…” the gruff voice had said and just before she lost consciousness she saw something hazy at a distance in the smoky inferno. Two people hanging from a helicopter… wait… was that, Maanav? Did someone kidnap him…?

The cooker whistle brought Nitya back from her memory lane. She wiped her tears and reflexly touched her leg where the scar still existed, a reminder of the time when Maanav left her alone. She was surprised that she wasn’t angry with Maanav anymore… But maybe it had to do with the passage of time. Or maybe because of her life struggles she had no time to think about it… she no longer resented him per se… Just the situation.

She had found that Maanav was saved as well…  Someone from the army had saved her then, but she only remembered the informer’s voice because by the time she came to her senses in the hospital, he was gone. He was the same man who had saved her.

Maanav didn’t betray her, did he? Somewhere in the passage of time she probably realised he had tried to save her hide. She was slowing them down that day and if he had taken her along, they both could have been killed…He was barely a teenager after all… But what happened at that time? Who were the enemy?

She sighed wondering if she would ever get answers. Over the years, she had tried to search Maanav on social media whenever she could. But there was no one closely resembling him… To her surprise, she always hoped and prayed that he was fine… wherever he was. Whenever she was in turmoil all these years, she often thought about him. She never had a friend like him… in fact, given her situation, she never had friends at all. But she was sure, despite everything if Maanav was around, he would always be her friend.

She dragged herself to the kitchen and checked in on the menu for the day. She had gone overboard today, getting Nama’s favourite food ready. He wasn’t choosy but liked some specific foods stuff more than others. Shutting off the gas burner she looked around at the tiny cubicle she called the kitchen… the black soot and grime covering the walls for ages hadn’t been cleaned at all… Naman couldn’t stand the strong smells of the cleaning agents. She also never had the time from multiple jobs to get food on the table and take care of her mother’s and Naman’s expenses.

I swear to God… Naman… I shall make things better. We will move out for sure… She resolved to work harder and get a decent abode for them.

She realised she had gripped the letter tightly and walked back to the old bag. She kept all the letters and the album with her and decided to give away the bag soon. She kept the letter for her separately in her accounts diary in the cupboard.

As she freshened and tidied Naman’s study, she realised it was past Naman’s regular hours. Where was he?

Worry gnawed at her insides.

Suddenly her phone buzzed startling her. It was Mr. Sandhu… he never called her, only texted. But why was he calling today?

Worried she answered the call.

“Nitya you should come here ASAP…” Mr. Sandhu’s worried voice was cracking up in the commotion in his background.

“What happened Sandhu ji? Is Naman alright…?”  Oh God please keep him safe…

“…Just… just come Nitya… and soon…” Mr. Sandhu disconnected.

If she thought her heart had been racing to its peak level, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Oh God…. please…please… Naman be alright, bhai…. Were her thoughts as she clutched at her heart and stumbled outside the house.

©priyanayakgole

(Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction using the backdrop of the attack that happened and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. This doesn’t attempt to change history or facts.)