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Gauri, a young village girl holding firm views about morals a...
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Her left foot thumps over the moist soil, following the rhythm of an ominous chant belonging to a magic so black. Like a pool of liquid electricity, her body circles the ignited heap of firewood at the center. As she twirls and dances like a possessed woman around it, lost in a trance, punctuating and practicing the forbidden, she feels an asphyxiating dynamism rising from the grounds.
The atmosphere rejuvenates with an outlandish exhilaration and liveliness, feeding over the vapours of carcass venting from the sacrifices she offers to the pyre. The blood and meat, the ashes and powdered bones, teeth and nails, the femur and skull of a goat were tossed one after the other into the fiery mouth of the monstrous fire, which felt more alive than the respiring individuals sheltered in the darkness of the forest.
The prominent witness of the ritual- the fire in the centre had a personality of its own. Through the flames, danced a face with eyes burning as ambers and a wide uncluttered mouth hungering for more offerings. Satisfied, but never satiated, the fire groans and grunts, digesting what has been presented and supplying the power asked in return. Appeased with the mantras and ransom of voracity, it lets the flare of darkness surmount what is good and delivers the imperceptible scepter of powerful will and confidence.
The witch uses the aura of the hound's spirit as a source of energy to make her chants more effective. She uses the power supplied by the unholy fire as a weapon and embarks on a new mission. Using all her might she exerts control over the thoughts, emotions and actions of an old nemesis. A ruler whom she turned into a slave to dance on her tips. A smile was painted on her lips as she thrusts her will on a subdued soul.
The lost soul of Raghuveer venturing the hallways of the fort and worrying for his family, when felt the familiar call of doom, failed to fight against the pull. The transparent entity swayed with the flow of air, unable to gather his footing. His eyes immediately found his companion and contemplated in concern. Mandakini who was standing a foot away, fully faced him and blinked, sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere. The winds pick up and gloom swallows the lights of once calm palaces.
"What is happening?" Raghuveer's soul asked. Mandakini's jaw clenched and fist tightened. She felt utterly powerless in the shrewdness of chaos, unable to act on her whim. Meeting the gaze of her old lover, she reveals nothing, wearing a mask of barrenness.
"The dance of death has now begun."
The soul of the former monarch disintegrates and churns before turning into a ball of sparkly purple, representing suffering and betrayal. Mandakini could only watch as it flowed away with a current of throttling air pulsing with the essence of witchery.
"I wish tonight lingers long enough to pull out the deserving victor at the break of dawn."
As the stars in the sky align to form the revered constellation, sensing the stroke of midnight, she disappears to warn her favourite survivor- Vasundhara. This needs to end soon.
