𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 Prey's Last Run 🥀~

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"Bas bahar ane de mujhe!" Anuradha shouted in mock anger at Haseena, her flushed cheeks betraying her laughter. Haseena giggled, her carefree voice echoing across the serene pond bank known as Leela Tat.

“Ab jo ho so ho! Aur agar tere pati ne tujhe aise dekh liya, toh pakka fida ho jayega!” Haseena teased, her laughter ringing like a melody.

The sun's first rays kissed the water, creating a divine glow around the girls. Leela Tat was alive with the sound of playful splashes and cheerful giggles. It was a sacred spot where village women gathered to bathe before the auspicious aarti of Banke Bihari.

Anuradha submerged herself in the cool water while Haseena sat on the edge, her damp hair glistening. A friend, Meher, carefully adorned Haseena’s long locks with fresh flowers, a delicate crown that made her look like one of the gopis of Brij.

The group of girls, their spirits high, soon dressed in vibrant lehengas, each carrying an earthen pot of malkaan filled with offerings. They walked gracefully in a line, their anklets jingling with every step, laughter and teasing lighting the path. Under the rising sun, amidst nature's splendor, their journey to the temple felt like a pilgrimage of joy.

The temple bells chimed as the aarti began. The sacred hymn, "Mai aarti teri gau, o keshav kunj bihari," echoed in unison. The girls sang with devotion, their faces glowing with reverence. Haseena’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the peace and divinity of the moment.

As the puja ended, Haseena stood silently before the idol of Banke Bihari, her heart full of unspoken prayers. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out.

"Haseena!"

She turned abruptly, her gaze locking onto her mother’s tear-filled eyes. Noor Jahan stood there, her arms outstretched, longing for her daughter.

Haseena’s chest tightened with emotion. Her own eyes brimmed with tears as she ran toward her mother. She was just a breath away when chaotic voices interrupted the moment.

“Yeh sab kya ho raha hai?”
“Kitna samay lagega?”
“Kis liye yeh sab?”

The sharpness of reality pierced her dream, dragging her back to the present.

Her eyes snapped open. It was all a cruel illusion. Her chest heaved as she fought back the sobs clawing at her throat. The bus jolted to a stop, and the murmurs of passengers pulled her attention.

“Kya hua?” she asked a man seated nearby.

In the rough Bhojpuri dialect, he replied, “Check naka hai, raja ka curfew laga hai.”

Her heart sank. A curfew? For her? The gravity of the situation dawned upon her, and fear clamped around her chest. Her body trembled as she peeked out the window, realizing the road was lined with vehicles. Their bus was sixth in line at the checkpoint.

Her mind raced. The dense forest on either side of the road beckoned her. It was her chance.

Her eyes darted toward the rear door of the bus. Quietly slipping off her seat, she crept to the back. Careful not to draw attention, she slipped out.

The cool air of the forest greeted her as she ran, her bare feet crunching the underbrush. Her chunni snagged on a cactus, but she didn’t stop to untangle it. She was left in her lehenga choli, but nothing mattered except escaping him—escaping the suffocating grip of Anubhav Singh.

Branches scratched her skin, and the dense foliage tore at her clothing, but she didn’t care. Her heart pounded, fueled by a singular, desperate thought: freedom at any cost.