Flung through Time

Freedom

For hours or perhaps days, my consciousness played a sick game of hide and seek. Sometimes I could hear loud voices scream-"Azad..he is gone! Shot his ownself in Alfred bagh!"

Other times I could just hear the urgent footfalls running against hard floor.

Finally my consciousness broke through the haze and I blinked against the harsh morning light.

"Ah, finally you are awake." A husky voice came from the bed side.

I looked up.

Bright, sapphire blue eyes set in an equally beautiful face stared at me intently.

I looked back at him, feeling a sudden panic set in. Who was this man and where was I?

"Who are you?" I mumbled, trying to get up but he soothed me into the bed again.

"Please don't get up. Doctor has advised complete bed rest since you hit your head rather hard and have lost a lot of blood."

Blood.

The word sets in with a shiver. "Who are you and who was the man who died?"

"What?!" The man exclaims sharply.

"I saw a man die."

The blue eyed stranger ran a frustrated hand through his hair and sighed."Okay,", he said finally, "My name is Devendra Pratap Singh. I have been fighting for India's independence and we-I and Azad..."

"Azad?" I cut him off.

"Yes, Chandra Shekhar Azad. You know him,right?" He looks at me quizzically.

"Of course I do." How could I not? He was a freedom fighter, the man who had lead the youth against British Imperialism. His face appeared in all history books but surely we were not talking of the same Azad.

"Anyhow, so we went to Alfred Bagh to meet an Informant. However, he sold us out to the British..."

"British?" Didn't they leave our country 72 years ago?

"Yes!", the young man continued,oblivious to my confusion."But we were outnumbered. So Azad drew out his gun to ward off the British Police and asked me to run as fast as I can. He asked me not to turn around."

"However, you did turn around?" I asked

"Yes", his hands shook slightly," the man you saw die-it was Azad- killed by his own faithful bullet. A man born in bondage died free. He could never bring himself to surrender ...."

The quietness echoed, giving me goosebumps.

"He will go down as a hero in history." I finally said.

"I sure hope so", a malice entered his tone," right now they call him a killer". He growled and threw a newspaper at me, copy of which I had seen on that fateful evening. "The European media shows him as a man who kills innocent officials for no reason . They are afraid to tell the hard truth back home. They can't possibly say that atrocities are being carried out on commoners and that Indians are rebelling " he sighed, "Anyhow, so I carried you away before we could be discovered and here we are."

"Where is here?" I asked, finally taking in the dark room. Plaster was peeling off the walls and the air smelled damp, like that of mold.

"This is the home of a fellow who has sympathy with our cause. He is not a freedom fighter but he's a doctor and he agreed to look at your wound and give us shelter for some days." He filled up a glass with water and handed it to me.

My hands trembled as I took the offered glass. I could now feel the fatigue weighing down on me heavily.

"Wait", he mumbled and placed the glass near my lips, "Drink."

I drank hungrily,only now realizing that my throat was parched. I could still feel his heavy gaze on me. The glass was finally empty but his gaze still lingered.

"You look Indian", he observed, "but you feel different somehow."

I suppressed a shudder. If only he knew how different I was.

"What is the Date today?" I asked, hoping against all odds to find myself in the 21st century.

"3rd March,1931. Why do you ask?" He looked at me critically.

1931.I stared at his high cheek bones, angular resolute jaws and the strongly set brows. This felt too real to be a dream. Perhaps it was the trauma of bashing my head twice in a day, but in that moment the thought that this time travel might be real started to set in.

"Why did you bring me along with you?" I asked.

Before he could answer, an old man busted into the room. He looked in a great hurry.

"You must leave right now!" He said,seizing Devendra by the shoulder. "Someone has informed them of your whereabouts.They are coming." There was no further need for discussion as Devendra started gathering things. Some money, some clothes and eatables were thrown in a pouch. Then he hitched a rifle in the holster tied to the waistband of his Lungi.

"Try to get up", he grabbed my arm gently and I found myself standing despite the heaviness I felt.

"Miss will be completely fine", the old man who I gathered was the Doctor said,"just remember to keep the wound clean ." and with that we were ushered out to the back door where a cart awaited us.

"Take care!" He shouted but we were already rushing though the thin alleyways of the bustling city.

It was only when we were a good distance away from Allahabad, that Devendra looked at me and smiled.

"That was a close one!" His eyes twinkled a clear and vibrant blue.

"Thank you Devendra." I smiled too.

"You can call me, Dev. Pray tell, what may I call you."

"Shruti."I said, confused. Didn't women in 1930s had long and elaborate names?.

"Okay,Shruti", he said slowly as though testing my name on his lips,"We have to be extra careful before you reach home."

"Home?" I echoed.

"Yes, Madam. You are my responsibility and I will take you safely home."

I closed my eyes and slumped, hoping to avoid any further questions about my 'home' which he clearly was eager to ask.

"Are you tired?" His husky voice carried concern.

I nodded, not lying in the least.

"Very well. Sleep then. We have a long journey ahead."

My tired body found it most easy to follow his advice. As my consciousness drifted into nothingness, I wondered what new adventures this alien timeline will bring forth.