Shape of the Sun

A Force Without Rein

He didn't hate Prithvi despite sending him away. Rather, his decision had hurt him.

It was a father's path - to love and cherish their child in every situation and in every way. Bhairav could say that his decision was borne out of a love that sought to preserve the bits of sanity that might not even exist amongst his children.

He had seen the downward trajectory and wanted to preempt it. 

But that consideration did not extend to anyone. Bhairav knew because he was putting in so much effort to not do anything drastic. The woman before him raged his primal side to life, something rare.

The tiny cell was dark and dank, a sharp contrast to his blue kurta pajamas made of the highest quality linen. Bhairav had sworn to never touch such filth again even with a ten-foot pole but that promise was irrelevant now.

He'd even go to hell for Rajkumar. He'd send her to the seventh hell for his sake.

"Harita." his voice was eerily calm, inducing unease in the hearers. It was like a madman's last bout of sanity where anything that he said would be jutting yet true, as if he could see the end of the world like Bhairav did.

"Harita," he repeated, "you ungrateful wench. You hurt what is mine. Who gave you the right to hurt what is mine?"

One of the police officers standing at the entrance approached Bhairav but he made a hand gesture for him to stop.

"Mr. Reddy..."

"Stop. I have a measure." His eyes were still trained on the cowering woman. "Harita, won't you answer me? I am asking why you had the guts to hurt what is mine."

The thinly-veiled hostility in his voice was unsettling and Harita was bearing the full brunt. Her insides were jittery, worsening when she caught sight of the wrath on that face from behind uneven strands of dirty hair. She didn't know how they caught her after just one visit. Harita didn't want to stay here with this scary monster and without her beloved.

"R-Raj..."

"To hell with you!"

The string called reason in Bhairav's head snapped as soon as that name fled past her lips. His sanity refused to remain and it was like a dream to the officers when he lunged forward and encircled his hands around her neck with a strength that was unexpected for a man of his age. They quickly came to themselves and tried to pull them apart.

"Sir, you cannot do that to the suspect!"

"Please calm down, Mr. Reddy!"

"I will kill you! I will bury you in a ditch!" He refused to let go despite the struggle from her and behind, that face evoking a passionate hatred and then fear like that of his ten-year-old child.

Bhairav didn't know when tears fell from his eyes and blurred his vision so that he couldn't see that wretched dirt-caked face anymore. Was his child not denied this chance that day? Did his child not wish to rather be dead than be left as it was?

He inadvertently reduced the strength in his hands and the officers used the chance to pull him away, albeit gently. They were not blind to the underlying emotional currents. Furthermore, their superior had informed them of the sensitive nature of this case. Cautious wisdom was needed in dealings with a man like Bhairav Singh Reddy. 

One of them opened his mouth to comfort him.

"Mr. Reddy, please calm..."

"He was just a child! He was just a child for heaven's sake! What was his sin?!"

His emotional outburst meant that it was not to be. 

Bhairav was too distraught to be appeased, his emotions channeling into heavy sobs. He sat down on the sole bed in the room and cried, his image uncared for. This vulnerability made the officers uneasy and they gingerly approached Harita who was still frazzled from Bhairav's attack, wanting to check on her.