Arohan - The Ascent

Love At First Sight - Chapter 1

"Vicky... Vicky!" Sonu came running towards the young man in his mid-twenties, who was lying down casually on his bike in front of the tea stall. 'Akbar's Tea and Snacks' was painted in bright pink, with fancy fonts all over the pushcart. It was their regular spot, where they would gulp down tea from kullads and binge on snacks by the plateful. Vicky flexed his lean muscles as his legs stretched out two feet beyond the length of the motorcycle. "What the hell is wrong with you, dickhead? Can't you see... it's my nap time," he admonished Sonu. Their two other friends, Minku and Jai, sat on stools laid out on each side of the pushcart, watching, certain that Sonu would soon get a thrashing.

"Sure... why not... sleep, my Kumbhkaran incarnate... sleep," said Sonu, mocking Vicky, who lay carelessly on the bike like a chameleon sunbathing in the Gobi Desert. "And while you are sleeping, remember that the school you promised to get for Thakur Saab... it's gone... kaput... forget about it," warned Sonu, sarcasm oozing from his voice. Vicky stretched once again, getting up slowly and looking at his reflection in the round mirror of his bike. He was very happy with what he saw—a handsome face, sculpted marvelously, with a firm jaw, chiseled cheekbones, and a sharp nose like that of an eagle. If he had been in Mumbai, he would have definitely been a model. His eyes went from his reflection to Sonu, who was standing apprehensively a couple of feet away.

Vicky caught Sonu by his collar. "What did you say... come again?" he demanded, with a casual look on his face, yanking Sonu's small frame back and forth. Sonu looked up, terrified. "Hey!" he screamed. "What did I do? Don't shoot the messenger... I'm just informing you of the latest breaking news. They've appointed a new teacher... and it seems SHE will be here by the afternoon," said Sonu, trying to free himself from Vicky's vice-like grip. Vicky barely noticed Sonu's struggle, looking at Akbar and motioning for another tea. Akbar looked at him exasperated. If he ever made profits in his life, it would only be after Vicky and his evil quartet of friends were thrown out of the village. Akbar drew in a deep breath. They had become a menace over time. With the firm backing of Narottam Singh, one of the village heads, part of the Panchayat (a five-member representative team that took decisions for the village and resolved small disputes between the villagers), these four goons literally terrorized the village with their muscle power.

The only police station in the village was practically nonexistent. The duty inspector usually didn't even come to the station, staying home in the neighboring village. The two constables posted to assist the inspector came to the station by turns, and they too, for most of the time, were busy carrying out chores for the sarpanch and his family. With no one to check their rowdyism, Vicky, the leader of the pack, had been emboldened. They would go to any shop and pick what they liked without paying. They troubled the girls on the streets with vulgar comments and stares, and at Thakur's command, broke the bones of any farmer who did not pay his loan installment on time.

The villagers preferred to stay away from the four goons, but Akbar had the dubious honor of supplying them tea as and when they pleased. "Oh Allah! Please rid us of this menace soon. Please punish these thugs for their actions," he would pray every day. What Akbar did not know was that his prayers were going to be answered that day, but not in the way he had imagined.

Vicky pushed Sonu away, taking the tea from Batuk, the kid assisting Akbar. He ruffled the kid's hair, eyeing him with a half-smile and wince. Batuk gave him a broad smile. For Batuk, Vicky was his hero, the man he wanted to be when he grew up. Everyone was scared of Vicky; no one messed with him. He was so cool, riding the bike with that smart jacket and the goggles on, like Salman Khan in "Dabangg."

Vicky sipped the piping hot tea. "So it's a SHE this time, huh? The men refused to come, so they're sending a woman into the lion's den... must be some aunty. What do you say, Jai? What will this new teacher be like?" he asked with a smirk, looking at Jai. Jai was the more sensible of the lot. "How does it matter?" he asked, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. "She won't last long in this village," he said matter-of-factly. Just as he was about to say something more, Vicky's phone rang. The display read "Thakur Saab." Vicky picked up the call. "Namaste, Thakur Saab," he said, his tone suddenly becoming serious and respectful. "Okay, I'll be there," he said and disconnected.

They pulled out their bikes and revved up the engines. As Vicky and his gang rode through the muddy village road, the scared villagers made way for them. Who knew whose turn it was to suffer at the hands of these monsters?

Vicky walked into the huge courtyard, with a Tulsi tree right in the middle, in a yellow-painted four-foot-tall pot with red and white dots on it. Beyond the Tulsi plant was the huge teak door entrance to the haveli that Narottam Singh called home. It was his ancestral house and the headquarters of his various businesses. At the moment, Singh was sitting on a cot placed outside under the shade of the parapet, a soft cushion under his elbow as he sucked on his pipe. His handyman stood behind him, quiet and observant, a sling bag dangling from his shoulder, holding a few phones and a diary.

Vicky, Sonu, Minku, and Jai walked in and went up to Thakur Ji, touching his feet. Singh raised his hand as though blessing his boys. "Urvashi Jenkins," said Singh, his eyes closed. "Hahaha," Minku laughed. "What kind of name is that? Urvashi," he said, saying the name in a sing-song tone. "Jenkins?" Sonu laughed too at the funny name. "I have no doubt it must be someone fat, with oiled hair, a big round bindi, and a soiled old cotton saree... like they show in movies? Social worker types!" he remarked.

Jai watched his friends make fun of the name in silence, smiling at them. Vicky, though, stood quietly, waiting for further orders. Singh looked up at Vicky. "This case is complicated," he said, looking Vicky in the eye. "I have been asked to make sure she is safe here. So, it's your responsibility to make sure she is okay," he said, raising his eyebrows. "BUT... I want that school. So, you know what to do!" he said, looking away. Vicky smiled arrogantly. "So, while protecting her, I must make sure the school doesn't run?" he summarized.

"Ramji, give them the money," Singh told his accountant, who had kept cash ready in A4-sized envelopes. The boys each got an envelope and went out to their bikes. They would party hard tonight. They had still not exhausted the money they got last time, and they already had a new envelope. Vicky pulled his collar up, putting on his blue-shaded goggles, and got on his country-made Harley. It was a cheap reproduction, but it made him feel like Arnold Schwarzenegger in "Terminator," and he rode on with a smirk on his face.

Two Hours Later – Padrauna Bus Stand

A couple of green and light green painted buses stood waiting at the dusty bus stand. The locals bought their tickets and scrambled to get seats. In Padrauna, buses going to cities like Kolkata and towns like Azamgarh and Lucknow had more passengers than buses coming into Padrauna. The boys waited at the juice stall, looking at the passengers coming and going. Then, the bus coming from Lucknow arrived and stopped.

The conductor opened the door and stepped out. He looked up at the door with a broad smile on his face. A few seconds later, they saw a foot on the last step to alight the bus, followed by slender fingers on the grip. Vicky, Sonu, Minku, and Jai came to the edge of the shelter, not venturing out into the sweltering May heat. The bus was some two meters from where they were standing, not more.

As they watched, curious to know what this Urvashi looked like, a tall, slender figure stepped out of the bus. She wore an off-white, straight-cut cotton kurta and muted gold leggings, with a muted gold dupatta draped around her chest and covering her head. The conductor was obviously gaping at her, smiling lustfully. He offered to help her with her luggage, but she refused politely and walked towards the shade.

The cigarette dropped from Vicky's fingers as he stood watching her adjust her dupatta to cover her head fully. She pulled her handbag, which threatened to slip off her slender shoulder, back into place and hauled up her bag, which must contain her clothes. As she walked towards the bus stop, looking around and taking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds, the surroundings froze around Vicky. Her muted gold dupatta and leggings