KATHA

33 KISAN - AFTERMATH

The thud of her body meeting the ground was more defeaning than the gunshot that pierced her heart.

The world did not slow like they said in stories. It shattered. It shattered into million jagged pieces and Kalki stood in the center of it all. Each piece digging into his skin and embedding into his bones. I saw the light in his eyes flicker into something dark, something primal then.

He did not wail. Did not roar. He stood there, body shaking with desperation or the tremors of his damnation- I did not know but I could feel agony roll off him. I could feel it wrap around my heart like a barbed serpent. I could feel it all.

Then it happend.

He fell to his knees as if collapsed under the weight of what he was seeing. And then came the wails.

I had never seen Kalki like that.

I had seen him tear through men with his bare hands.

I had seen him bathed in blood. Saw him dancing across the precipice of death with a calm defiance that dared fate himself.

But never had I seen him burning in such agony. I had never heard him wail.

Deafeated. He sat on the ground, cradling her limp body for a long minute, a trembling gun raised toward anyone who dared to come close. I had never seen Kalki Samrat cry. He was subjected to underground torture and weeks of starvation. He watched his parents die a slow death. He survived the worst monsters of slum and underworld but never broke down. But never did he shed a tear.

His wails were a contrast to the silence of the night, "Kathavali ? Please open your eyes.... just please..." Tremors shook through him, but she remained still. She was gone. Katha was dead. And I feared she took him with her. "Please wake up... please don't leave me... I love you.... Goddess... I love you so much, please...." He wailed again, feathering gentle kisses all over her face. Then, he placed his ear over her heart. He blew air into her lungs and pressed them to the best of his efforts. "Get the fucking car !" It was of no use. Desperate. He was desperate, and he was losing it. I wanted to pull him out of it, but l was rooted to the ground. Shock held me. I looked over at Sharma. He was still. Staring at her face, his eyes unblinking and empty.

Not thirty seconds later our car opened beside them and he gently placed her on the backseat before getting in. He spared me barest of glances and uttered just three words like cold death. "Keep her alive."

Our men surrounded a pale Bulbul, their rifles trained on her head. She earned a shot when she tried to move, and that's when Rishi spared her a glance.

"Go. I'll be there after I deal with her." I told him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Without a word, he moved to the driver's seat and the car flew out of the area. If it weren't for Kalki, I would have minced Bulbul right there in the middle of the road and threw the leftovers for the worst of the wild to fill their dark bellies. After driving her to the facility basement myself, I was dying to be on road again to the hospital Katha was admitted to. But not before having Mahira lather bulbul in cooking oil and light a circle of fire around her.

Mahira was an artist. Her mind was a universe of light and dark she flew across all day around. Mahira was a rape survivor and an embodiment of courage, beauty, and grace. Mahira was our baby sister. Mahira was an artist because the patterns she was drawing on Bulbul's skin with a blade bled pretty and I would've stopped to admire more of her art if we were not slave to the mercy of time. I would've stopped to watch the sheen of oil burn the canvas of Bulbul's skin sweet and slow while Mahira painted her in her own blood. Beautiful. But I had to rush.

There was no messenger yet. That blessed me with a glimmer of hope. My heart was stuck in my throat the entirety of the drive. It was cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Harsh. I could feel death. Looming over Surat sky, taunting me. Telling me that I was going to see things that would not cease leeching at my blood for decades to come. That would not cease to agonise Kalki til he danced into death's awaiting arms. No.

When I reached, the hospital was grim. More than usual. I hated hospitals. Everything about them. I hated that orchestration of life and death more than ever as I walked towards floor 1. That's were bhabi was. Dead or alive ? I did not know. I was shaking as Kalki came in my line of sight.

The hallway stretched like a lifeless vein, cold and unfeeling under the flickering fluorescent light. The scent of sterile death clung to the air, mingling with the distant hum of machines, but it was the sight of him-Kalki, on his knees, his head bowed-that made the world feel darker than ever.

I had seen him wield power like a god, crush men with a glance, and stand over corpses with a grin. But slumped on the floor against the hallway wall in front of the operation theatre, he looked human-too human. His hands, bloodied and trembling, were pressed against his face, as if trying to hold in the storm that threatened to tear him apart.

I took a breath, heavy and cold, and stepped closer.

The flickering light of the OT breathed light into me.

Everything was alright. I looked around to find Sharma as he seemed like a better person to get answers from but he was nowhere to be found.

"Patel ? Did you see Rishikesh Sharma ? Is he on an errand ?" I asked the nearest bodyguard sporting an Ak47. That question sounded pathetic to my own ears as there was no way he'd leave this hallway alive til he made sure Katha was perfectly fine. The big scary man looked down, avoiding my question.

I turned back to Kalki.

"Kiki ? I need you to answer me please. I beg you. Please tell me what's going on. Is bhabi alright ? Where is Rishi ?"

"Kiki please," My voice cracked and that's when he looked up at me. And I pushed myself back two steps.

Terrifying.

There was blood in his eyes. His eyes when they finally lifted to meet mine, were hollow - a storm of blood brewing beneath a broken surface. I had never feared Kalki, not even in his worst moments. But this man before me, shattered and silent, terrified me in a way I couldn't name.

"She needed a heart, Kiss. Mine did not match."