[Grand Winner ONC India 2023]
Bhairavi, a staunch devotee of Shree Ram, is a tourist visiting Kashmir with her daughter. One night she is going through the pictures she has clicked during the day and stumbles across one that shocks her to the core...
By the time Raghav came to them with news about the arrival of their pick-up van that would take them to their destination: The Valley, Bhairavi knew everything Amrit knew, courtesy of Raghav's birth mother: Roshni.
So far, she knew that:
This was Dream Weaver's fourth annual All-women tour.
The first victim, Sandhya Dasgupta, was a fifty-year-old widow who had come to visit her daughter in Ludhiyana. The woman died in the Nurture hospital after being rushed there due to an allergic reaction to bananas. The daughter was surprised when the culprit turned out to be a banana. It seemed odd because not only was Sandhya allergic to the fruit, but she hated it too. Why would a seemingly happy woman commit suicide, that too, at her daughter's home!? Strange.
The second one, Vrinda Jethli, a thirty-two-year-old teacher from Jaipur, had fallen from the stairs of her first-floor apartment and broken her leg. That, however, was not the cause of death. As luck would have it, when she was taken to the hospital, the doctor injected her with a painkiller which killed her instead of healing her. When investigated, the doctor had admitted to the charges of manslaughter and died of a heart attack days before his case was brought to court. Very strange.
The third and last victim was a young girl of nineteen. Koyal Bindra had joined the tour from Jhansi with her mother. Alas, she died in the hospital shortly after being brought there. The girl, Koyal, was hit by a truck on her first day of college. The police had closed the case after recovering footage from a shop at the street corner next to her college that proved beyond doubt that she had committed suicide. According to the tape, the girl had looked straight at the oncoming truck and stepped right in front of it. It was like she had a death wish. Did she really?
Whichever way Bhairavi looked at it, the cases did seem very peculiar. Aunty-ji was on to something when she connected everything back to Dream Weavers. Maithili's mother was sure that The Valley likely held the secret of their deaths. Now all that remained was to find out what it was and stop whoever or whatever was responsible for it before the next head rolled, metaphorically speaking.
"Ma! Come on. Everyone is waiting for you."
Maithili's urgent voice dragged her back to the present, where a more prominent threat loomed like a sword hanging over her head: the growing proximity between Mia and Raghav.
Making her way to where Mia was waving at her, Bhairavi decided that decoding the secrets of The Valley could wait. The need of the hour was for her to get her act together and do everything in her power to keep Raghav and his perfect 'everything' away from her daughter!
***
The journey from Jammu to The Valley was more eventful than any women expected.
As soon as Bhairavi had entered the twelve-seater, Raghav, in his usual cheerful tone, delivered the command, "Here. Here, my lovelies, I would really appreciate it if you could follow my instructions."
When all eyes turned to him, he continued, "The road ahead is like a rollercoaster. So, if any of you suffer from road sickness, I request that you take the front seats. Now, Golu here," He smiled at the driver over his shoulder, "is a local and an excellent driver, but he can only do so much. I promise you, this will be the only time over the next five days that you will be inconvenienced. So, let's-"
"Excuse me." Bhairavi's hand shot up, interrupting the youngster and infuriating her daughter.
"Yes, my lady." Raghav humored her, "How may I assist you?"
"Won't we be taking this route back to Jammu?"
"Yes."
"So, in that case, this won't be the last time we will be discomforted by you, would we?"
The taunt did nothing to shake the boy's confidence. He chuckled, "Ah! Silly me." Scratching the back of his head, Raghav glanced at the group, "My apologies. It's as Mrs. Chopra said, "You will have to bear with me once more on our way back."
After unsuccessfully trying to embarrass the charmer, she decided to be civil toward him lest it widens the rift between Maithili and her. She had come here to have a good time, and they wouldn't be able to do that if she kept treating Raghav like a criminal. After all, nothing Amrit had told her about the deaths seemed to bear any connection to Raghav. More so because this was the boy's first time acting in a tour guide's capacity. And if Bhairavi was going, to be honest about it, he was doing a freaking good job of managing the group.
Having to stop the van multiple times, for the women were no fans of rollercoasters, the journey took almost three hours to cover thirty kilometers. The only happy tourist among the lot was Bhairavi, who had taken this opportunity to hone her photography skills as her daughter looked on, doing her best to as-politely-as-possible decline her mother's requests:
Kanna, smile!
Mia, do that Korean heart pose, will you?
Just one pic, Bangarum!
The mountains look like inverted ice cream cones, no?
I wish your Appa was here. *sigh*
Aiyooo, so cute. Look. Look!
By the time the motley gang arrived at The Valley, the sun had set, engulfing the small settlement into a blanket of black. With the van's headlight illuminating their path, Raghav guided them to the only other source of light: a lone bulb hanging in the front yard of a dwelling: a cottage made of mud with thin sheets of tin serving as their roofs, fastened to the mud structure by thick cords.
A woman with kind eyes, a wrinkled face, and strands of snow-white hair poking out of her scarf stood at the entrance, smiling.
"Welcome. Welcome. Come in. Come in. Eat. Eat." She spoke with her arms more than words, or so it seemed to Bhairavi.
Raghav approached her and spoke in a tongue Bhairavi hadn't heard in years. She had never gotten a chance to master Kunkan.
As a girl of barely thirteen, while her father was posted at the Jammu military base, she had heard her maid speak it. From what she knew, it was a dying language. Before they had left Jammu, the maid had taught her enough to hold a simple conversation. She recalled how she had struggled to learn even those basic sentences. And yet, here he was, their tour guide, speaking it so fluently that he could pass off for a native.
"Ma, are you feeling alright?" Her daughter's query made her turn.
"Of course."
A look of concern flashed in the hazel pools. Walking over to her mother, Maithili threaded their fingers together, "I am sorry for being insensitive and mean to you lately. And I promise I will try to do better. Okay?"
Overwhelmed with emotion, Bhairavi pulled her daughter in a quick hug. Not wanting to embarrass her more since she had oh-so-graciously extended the olive branch, Bhairavi let her go almost immediately.
"Thank you, Kanna. I will do better too. Say, Raghav seems like a nice boy. How about I apologize to him for my earlier behavior?" Bhairavi locked eyes with her daughter trying to gauge her reaction.
"Naaa." The girl dismissed the offer casually. "He must have already forgotten about it."
The reply soothed Bhairavi's nerves, and the duo proceeded for dinner, looking forward to the 'authentic valley cuisine' promised by The Dream Weavers.
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