The Unsaid

Chapter 17

When she reached the farm, she couldn't see anyone amidst the fields. But the door of the thatched house in the field, which would generally be open, was closed. Where they discussing some secrets of their past in the closed doors? She chuckled and walked towards the small thatched house with mud walls. All that the house contained in the name of furniture was a wired cot, a couple of old wooden chairs and some other miscellaneous items, all of them belonging to Prithvi's grandfather or his great grand father.

The "bondalu" were in a long steel container, referred to as a "carriage" with many compartments. She clutched its handle with one hand and approached the door. Why couldn't see hear any voices? By instinct, her hand retracted from the handle of the door. A tiny area of the mud wall on the right side had a fallen off, causing a gap of the size of a watermelon. Seenu had covered it with thatch temporarily but one could take a peek inside from the gaps. Perhap's out of curiosity, her feet took her towards the gap and she peeked inside from there.

She was floating... was in some alternate universe... because nothing made sense anymore.

A man and a woman were inside. She could see the man's face but not the woman's as her back was turned to her. They stood close to one other, and the man was staring into the eyes of the woman before him intensely. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, based on the creases on his forehead and the tortured look on his face. In a swift motion, he held the woman's arms and pulled her towards him, hugging her tight, his large hands spreading over her back. They moved apart again and this time he planted soft kisses on her face before hugging her again. The woman responded by hugging him back and patting his head and back with her hands. No doubt, these were two people in love.

Except.

Except that it couldn't really be happening in Pallavi's world.

For the man resembled a lot like Prithvi and the woman like Nisha.

She didn't know where she was standing, didn't know if she felt anything, didn't know if her heart still beat inside of her. This must be a dream. She stood staring at them, frozen in her position.

In a split second, the man's eyes moved from the woman in his arms towards Pallavi. There eyes met and and Pallavi felt lightening hit her. It was Prithvi. Her Prithvi. He stared at her in shock, his hands held still on the woman's back. Yes, it was her Prithvi. She became aware that she was outside the thatched house in Prithvi's farm; that she was still alive and that her heart was still beating; that she was still holding the steel carriage in her hands tight.

The woman moved her face sideways and glanced back towards the opening from where Pallavi was watching them.

Pallavi swiftly moved away from the opening, her heart beating loud as an automatic rifle that had gone off. Her grip on the container tightened even more as she gulped. Her head spun in confusion, shock, anger, humiliation, betrayal. Without her knowledge, her legs moved away from the house and she drifted towards the road.

She walked slowly, directionlessly, on the long stretch of the road. Perhaps it was all a dream. She glanced back at Prithvi's farms, then at the container in her hands. A farmer approached her from the other side of the road. She composed herself.

"Emma Pallavi? Ekkada nunchi vasthunnavu. Pollam ellava?" (Where are you coming from Pallavi? Did you go to the farm?"

She managed to nod at him but couldn't get any words out of her.

Her heart burned in rage as the old song, "Jagamey Maaya, Brathukey Maaya," swirled within her thoughts. ("This world is a myth, this life itself is a myth.") The only frames appearing repeatedly in her mind was Prithvi's shocked face staring at her and his hands on Nisha's back holding her protectively. Her fingers clutched the handle of the steel container tight enough to pierce her skin. Her heart sped fast enough to put her body on fire. Tilting her head up, she let out a cry of agony, but immediately checked her surroundings, hoping that no one saw her plight. She was now walking by the lake that glistened as the evening sunrays played on its surface. The few shrubs and a couple of trees on the edge of the lake provided some blockage of the view from the road. Taking refuge behind a shrub, she finally sat down and let go of the container from her hands, only to find herself longing to hold on to something, anything. How long she sat there, she did not know. But she knew one thing. That Prithvi would not try to follow her or find her, not until that woman called Nisha leaves.