A Sew Through Time [Bandbudh And Budbak]

11: Dussehra

She was lost for more than an hour.

Visiting the Dussehra town fair was a yearly activity the Chawhal family never missed. Getting lost was not the norm, but Khushi was feeling frightened. There were clowns and monkeys of all types who seemed to point at wrong places, and if she walked away, they would pout and ramble. The sight of food made her tummy rumble, though mumma said the oils they used were stale and bitter. Lehengas do not come with pockets; she could had called her parents had she not given her phone to bhaiya to carry.

Crying was childish. Crying never solved anything. It was a small town- if someone from school noticed her, they would taunt her when she would return to Apna school after the Navaratri holidays.

Strange adults encompassed her. She asked for help, describing a picture of her parents by chance they had seen them. It was a small town, maybe they would know. Disapproval soon followed as they shook their heads. She scanned every face, maybe one of them belonged to her mother, her father, or her brother.

Rushing through the crowd made her almost trip when a hand rescued her. It caught her arm, dragging her away. Khushi knew that hand, for what followed next was the familiar maroon sleeve.

They drove out, far, far away, till the crowd thinned away with the monkeys not taunting again. Ram Lila was being enacted on a stage, the treacherous Ravana howling like the villain he was now that he would battle the divine reincarnation. Theatric puppets twirled in handmade little dresses, dropping and tangling with their legs. Their shadows moved, till they looked up to see strings of fairylights being put off by a long stick for the departure of the Warrior Goddess on a truck. Rhythm of dhols made their feeble hearts leap. Badri was talking and Khushi failed to hear.

They stood on higher ground where noises from the fair below reached as low as murmurs. Only the sky heard them, and it heard them too. The wind carrying the smell of home-made fritters had listened to their tummies.

"Looks like you're in trouble"

"Khushi!" their mother scolded after hearing the crunch of her daughter's red lehenga. She pinched her earlobe, "Where were you?! Do you know how much trouble you gave us?!"

"Sorry mummaaa" she held her hand and caressed it, trying to ease her agitation, "I saw Ram and Laxman eating cotton candy on their war break!"

"More like you went to get some" Badri whispered, wiping his maroon kurta.

"You shouldn't even talk" his mother scolded him next, "Your little sister's becoming mannerless day by day thanks to you! When will you take her responsibility?"

"Right mumma!" She smacked his arm, "All our relatives gave me pocket money this year, and Badri didn't give me anything!"

"Oh come on chuha" He walked towards the basket arranged by his father and grabbed a soda can, "My ashirvaad is enough for you than some stupid pocket money!"

Their parents could only sigh when she began chasing him around the hill furiously. Returning with sweaty faces, they sat down on the cool grass and helped their father to open tupperwares containing store brought puff paties, corn sandwiches and gulab jamun.

"Bhaiya!" Khushi pointed ahead, "Look at that Ravan over there! So big na?"

Badri kept his sandwich down and gazed at it. Dressed in flammable attires, the ten headed demon king stared with a rudimentary face.

"When will they burn him bhaiya?" His little sister spread out her feet.

"Veeeery soon" he replied, "When the arrow hits his heart, the fire will eat him up"

"And light up the dark forces that has surrounded for centuries" their father laughed, "This reminds me when I first took your mother here years ago. She was so scared of the sight!"

"Keep that now..." their mother whispered.

"I can't wait to watch it!" Khushi clapped her hands and leaned forward, "But... did you notice one thing?"

Cheering from below turned louder- it was time. The burning arrow lifted higher and higher.

"Did you notice Ravan's eyebrows bhaiya?" She elbowed his arm, "They're connected, just like yours!"

"Aye chup!" Badri grimaced, "His one's so ugly and unkept! Mine's far more better"

"Don't you think that those unibrows make him look twice angrier?" She gazed at the statue, "I wonder why he looks so angry right now"

Absenr air choked the burning pile that provided fuel for the flames. Stranded metres away from the light, Vijaywada's chest heaved up to inhale the emptiness. The world around him was quiet, except the crackling fire mourning in the distance, smell more pungent than the castle smoke.

His injuries stung when he opened his eyes, cold air settling over the skin exposed through torn clothes. Something was wet under him, damp, warm liquid broadening over the suckling ground that lit bright.

The glowing circle came closer.

With great difficulty, Vijaywada lifted an arm and rolled sideways. His clothes got freed from the ground.

The blue sari was replaced by downtroden clothes. Her gait rendered obscure.

"You..."

It vanished into the dark.

He splattered and tried to get up; it was arduous to move even slightly. He tried lifting his head, but it fell back on the ground. He tried to sit upright but fell again miserably. He tried lifting his legs, his knees bent a little that sparked some hope. But being unbearable, it crashed down.

No sensation was reaching his lower body. He traced his hands to reach below, down to his broken knee, down to his calves as he bent his leg, down below.

Down below, he could not feel his ankles.

The burning pyre threw some light around him. Everything seemed to sparkle around him. But this was not what Vijaywada was looking at.

"My poor boy..." he gave out a slow chuckle.

Smoke travelled past Badri. The axe etched the ground.

"I loved your plans, really" his lowered with a shiver, "But there is one thing I must tell you as an elder" he grinned, "You... are too full of yourself"

The lack of reply and bodily movement left Vijaywada a little annoyed. Looking up from his black shoes, apron and white shirt, he chuckled on seeing his face. Eyes weary and filled with boyish fear, his fingers were trembling around the handle.

"You will die, if you don't kill me now"

A shaky breath escaped Badri's mouth. The axe slipped from his cold fingers and fell beside the fallen man.

"One day, you'll go back home, thinking you have fixed it all" Vijaywada shook subtly, his eyes twinkling from receding knowledge, "You will be left with nothing. Your world... does not exist anymore"

He heard the boy leave. She stood watching him faraway, unrecognizable in the dark.

Dragging himself forward, Vijaywada splattered and collapsed, crying from horrible pain, not horrible deeds. It would be sinful for him to cry, his tears an insult to humanity's kindness.