Winner of Wattpad India Awards 2020 (Judge's Choice) in the New Adult category.
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"The lights are cheeky, you can't live without them, and yet if you get too close, they'll blind you. Darkness? Well it doesn't cheat. It's cool and soothing. It's r...
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Madhulika's eyes had closed to slits in response to the glaring noon sun over her head. In her right hand, she was balancing a box of sweets, cashew barfi, and her left was tightly clutching Chikki's leash. The dog in question was giving her puppy eyes, sulky that he wasn't allowed to totter around freely.
It seemed a much longer walk back home now that the pleasant morning weather had given way to the nasty afternoon heat, making Madhu's footsteps unhurried and lethargic. Perhaps that was why she was able to see a quick movement followed by a yelp at the end of the bazaar.
Whoever it was, they had disappeared behind a large granary, about twice the size of the one Nakul used as his office. Madhu realised she was passing by one of the big farms, not as large as hers but still big enough to require several workers.
Chikki barked, alert, when another cry pierced through the air. Madhu was hesitant, it clearly seemed like a pile of none-of-her-business and she already had a harassed friend waiting back home. But she made up her mind when a third, most terrible wail followed.
"STOP PLEASE!"
She had reached the end of the granary and watched quietly. A flowerless Gulmohar tree cast a shadow on her, and in her current position, she was practically invisible to them.
They referred to a group of three men, with large lathis, which were thick wooden rods used to herd cattle, in their hands. They were all bent over a cowering figure who was lying in a foetal position on the dusty ground, groaning in pain.
Two of the men looked like bodyguards, wearing loose white kurtas over jeans. They flanked the third guy who was doing all the hitting.
Madhu watched in horror when the third man, a stout, moustached fellow raised his lathi over his head and brought it down, giving a massive blow on his victim's stomach, before spitting on the face of the boy. Yes, it was a boy, barely fifteen.
"Next time, you'll think twice before you dare enter the granary."
She wanted to do something, wanted to intervene. But it was three against two, counting Chikki. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, who would back her up? More than anything, she wished her phone was with her. But it was lying limp on Nakul's desk, dead and damaged.
She waited with bated breath until the men walked away, taking turns to spit on the boy's limp frame. Thankfully, they didn't hit him after that, just grunted warnings.
When she was sure they had left and wouldn't return, Madhu tentatively approached the boy. Chikki barked again, pulling on her salwar with his teeth.
"We can't leave him!" Madhu hissed, yanking her leg out of his grasp.
She stopped over the kid's motionless body, her shadow sheltering him from the white sun. His shirt was ripped and torn in places, angry red bruises peeking from all those gaps. There was a gash on his forehead, as if made with a knife, which was bleeding profusely. Dirty, dark brown hair stuck to his forehead. In spite of all these injuries, his eyes were closed and breaths were calm.
