Dhampir of Kalika

৪. the temple

With respect comes fear.

****

Maya decided to visit the local Kali temple before beginning her investigation in full motion. Her blessings would provide a good start to the case. Mrinjay, the oldest son of the Das family, agreed to take her to the temple. He had summoned a rickshaw for them to reach the place.

Maya wore a simple linen saree in the colour of navy blue and white with little sequins sewn into the aanchal. Matching with it she chose to wear kundan earrings and shimmering silver bangles.

When Mrinjay first saw her approach him, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked straight out of a classic Bengali movie, a heroine of the day. A fire stirred inside him, but he didn't express his feelings. Instead, he just bowed slightly. "You look exquisitely beautiful."

Maya chuckled. "Thank you."

Mrinjay, with great restraint, swallowed down whatever threatened to spill. He gestured her to get on the rickshaw. "After you."

When both had climbed the rickshaw, Maya took to scanning the surroundings. Khatra was probably a little more populated than other villages– it was crammed with huts and there were plenty of grocery and tea shops. Tall trees kissed the sky, with handis being tied to date palms for collection of juice to make jaggery. Fluffy clouds like balls of cotton floated in the blue sky. The sun glowed like a dazzling white orb. Far away the green hills could be seen and the vast expanse of the forest at its feet.

When Maya felt the timing was right, she began a conversation. "Kalikacharan Babu told me that the temple was built by one of your ancestors, Rudrapratap Das."

Mrinjay nodded. "Yes. He was a big devotee of Kalika. Maybe he had received the order of constructing a temple dedicated to her glory in his dream. He was a benevolent man who donated a lot to temples and to the poor."

"Do you take forward the legacy?"

"Yes. I regularly provide funds to the temple. Not because it is a property of our family, but because I love Kalika as dearly as he did. We must do everything to keep the divinity alive and spread it among the youth."

"I love Kalika too. I have witnessed her magic and miracle in real life. I know she is here around me and everywhere."

Mrinjay raised a brow. The sun glared on his face and his moustache twitched. "I see... " It was a whisper as faint as the call of death. He heaved a sigh. "I am yet to feel her presence, but I believe she is here too."

A comfortable silence rested between the two. Maybe it didn't remain harmonious for long. The quietude pressed on Mrinjay's mind like the gong of destruction. Swamped by the increasing unease, he took to opening his lips. "You will find dancers in the temple too. They are devadasis, travelling the country and serving the various forms of Shakti in their lifetime."

"Amazing! I have never met a devadasi, so I look forward to meeting one."

Mrinjay beamed. "They are very pretty. Embodiments of grace. I personally love arts and culture. Dance and music delight me."

"Why not, you are a zamindar. You ought to be fanciful."

"I do have refined tastes."

Maya covered her mouth and laughed. Mrinjay turned a shade deeper of red. Blood gushed to his cheeks.

"Now, may I turn to more serious matter?" Maya's eyes twinkled. "After all, I am here for business."

Mrinjay averted his gaze. There was a foreign darkness looming in his cocoa-brown eyes. "I am ready."