The wasted souls (Completed)

Chapter 1

After the train had sped past the station without stopping, the flagging guard saw the body on the track. Cut half from the waist; it was wrapped in a skirt and soaked in blood.

Horrified momentarily, he dropped the flags on the platform. The faint light from the platform glinted the fresh blood as the internals spilled out from open the wound.

The gory scene left him too stunned to scream; the eerieness still haunted his unblinking eyes, but his stomach did not digest the emotion, and he swirled around and upturned it. Slowly, he sighed and lowered his head in a defeated gesture. Wiping clean his forehead, he turned and picked up his tools from the ground and walked back to the small office to do the needful. There was no need for him to search for the rest of the wasted soul.

Sahaya station was not new to death. These tracks had a lot of stories to tell. The people of this small town now never reacted to these incidents. They were used to it once in a while. Request for a night duty patrol fell on deaf ears for lack of man-power.

Outside the station, a beggar limped through the narrow lane that ran parallel to the tracks. Hunger had kept him awake for two days now, as he scavenged among the dust bins for anything dead or even alive to sate his hunger.

Something moved; He stopped- grinned at his fortune perhaps. He bent and picked up one of his torn shoes, then raising it over his head, tiptoed slowly towards the bin. There was a squeak at first, then a moan, his steps quickened, and he peered in but could see nothing in the dark. He dug in with his hand and pulled out a hefty cloth bundle. But he could feel something move inside.

Hurriedly, he carried the package, under the light, a few paces away, and placed it on the ground. It was bound by a loose knot. He squatted over it and unwrapped the bundle but in the next instant was on his feet. As he stood stupefied staring at his find, mosquitoes thronged at the little body for their feast.

The human baby astonished him, and he peered around into the darkness but met with only silence. He wrapped the bundle again and picked it up, but then the baby started crying. The bloodthirsty insects had had their fill and aroused the child with their stings. He cradled it in an attempt to silence its cries and won.

His mind now raced; what to do next? Should he discard it?

He did not get a chance to decide what to do before that he heard a shrill whistle blow from behind him. He turned around and saw a figure running towards him with what looked like a stick in his hand. In the light, the khaki dressed man seemed like Satan coming for his soul.

His hand tightened around the bundle, but it hadn't moved, nor did it help ease his fear. On reaching him and panting, the constable stood pointing his staff at the beggar and his bundle.

"What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Picking up leftovers to eat."

"Oh! Really? Such a big bundle, what's in it?" He asked pointing at the bundle.

The beggar hesitated, gripping the bundle tighter.

That was enough for the policeman to come forward and grab it away from him.

"It's heavy," he said, putting the baton under his arm, and glancing at the beggar before proceeding to unwrap it. The haggard just stood there, knowing that there was no escape for him when the bundle opened.

"A child?" The police gave a frowned, angry glance at the beggar before him, "From where did you steal it?"

"No..." he held up both his hands in denial, "No...no...I found it in the dust bin...there," he said, pointing to the bin behind the policeman, who looked over his shoulder and back with a look of disbelief.

After thrusting the bundle back at the haggard, he was dragged by his arm to the bin.

"You found the bundle here?!" He asked the haggard.

"Yes," he replied, and the policeman brought out a torch instantly from the back pocket and directed its light inside the stinking bin. There was yet another similar bundle inside.

"There is another one here," the policeman said, and the haggard was surprised.

"I didn't know!" he replied, "Couldn't search in the dark and...and just pulled out what I got my hands on". The baton went once again under his arm, and with that free arm, he opened the bundle.

For a few seconds, he stood still staring into the bin and then looked up at the beggar with wide eyes. The beggar eyed the bin, and then at the policeman and wondered what silenced him.

The policeman staggered back and shook his head in disbelief. The torch rendered dead was put back in his pocket, and then out came the whistle. He blew it with a vengeance and tore away at the silence of the night with its blaring noise. The beggar heard footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulders and saw three shadows running towards them. The whistle went silent.

"What happened?" one of the men asked on reaching them.

"Arrest and take this fellow to the police station,"

"Why?!" cried the beggar, "I did nothing!" he protested and begged with the baby still in his hands. Two men had already caught hold of his arms on either side.

"Charge him with murder!" the policeman ordered.

"MURDER!!!" the beggar screamed with disbelief, the child moved in his arms, and he glanced down at it, "But it's alive," he said, still confused.

"Not that, but this," the police said, indicating the bin. One of the newly arrived policemen rushed towards the thrash armed with a torch. He too stood back after his view inside.

"A woman's head!" he screamed aloud.

"A Head!" the beggar repeated, "I know nothing about that. I am telling the truth...believe me," he began to plead. But then who would listen to him. He was forcefully taken away to the nearby police station, with the child still in his hands.

Author's Note

Please do vote and comments are welcomed.