Followed By Fate - Aruha Aref (phonics story books TXT) 📗

Followed By Fate.

1880.

The night is silent for him just as it had been from last six months, equally terrifying as the tree standing two feet away from the centre of the graveyard. The only sound is of the air caressing some dry, some younger leaves on the howling tree.

 

Haunted is the graveyard or so it is supposed by the people of the village.

 

Half of the graves are opened with coffins visible, and he is there with shovel in his hands, digging the grave which is right beneath the huge tree.

 

The man is wearing a long dark brown shirt which strokes his ankles and a rebozo tied tightly around his head and neck, covering his face and revealing only his sharp dark green eyes with long eyelashes. His shirt is dirty of the mud and the rebozo tells he is sweating. His hands feminine but brave, working furiously, like of men.

 

He crashes down to the ground and closes his eyes as he takes deep breaths. This was just like another grave, not the grave he wanted.

 

He is tired and wants to sleep but he knows he shouldn’t do mistakes, not now; not when he is so near.

‘One more grave, just one more.’ he thinks.

 

When the darkness starts getting carried away sprinkling the light over the village he puts his shovel on his shoulder and vanishes away into dark, thin streets of Bharatpur.

***

‘Tie his hands. Come on! Come on! Jaldi, Fast!’ One of the men said, his voice hoarse, he sounded urgent.

‘Ram, kill him…’

 

‘Naa! Don’t kill. Ma’am wants him alive.’

 

‘Bhai, Brother, but he is being the pain in the…’

 

‘Shut up! Shut up!’ Bhavej shouted, spitting.

 

‘Jee Bhavej bhai, Yes, Bhavej brother.’

 

Jagdeep was listening to this conversation lying on the rough, silent street, his arm bleeding and sun scorching half-life out of him. These three men were beating him since last fifteen minutes about whom he knew nothing. How could he? They all were hiding their faces with long chadors. One of the men came closer and kicked him on his head, made him sit and tied his hands slapping hard across his jaw.

 

‘Pick him up,’ it was Bhavej again.

 

Jagdeep felt two men coming closer to him and before he blacked out he survived two kicks in his stomach and a hoarse laughter nearer to his ear.

 

When he got conscious, he was in a different place; a long silent room, like a corridor enclosed in walls. Light coming in from a small hole present at the top of the huge right wall. The room was empty except the blood which his body has lost. He could picture the big door on the other end of the long room. He closed his eyes out of tiredness and extreme pain gushing out of his body and slept.

 

-

 

‘Look! A small baby just opened his eyes,’ it was Ram, Jagdeep could guess.

 

He woke up to a tub full of water, splashed on his face. He sat up and stared at their faces.

 

‘Are you staring? How dare you?’ Ranjit, the third man of them yelled.

 

‘Yes, I am,’ Jagdeep didn’t let go his courage and stood up making his way to the door till a sharp blow in his leg threw him to the ground but he stood up immediately.

 

‘Who are you? And what have I done to you?’ Jagdeep snarled.

 

‘Ma’am will better explain you Mister,’ Bhavej said calmly, hiding his face in the puff of smoke.

‘Who ma’am?’ Jagdeep cried punching Bhavej in his jaw.

 

He did the mistake by punching him Bhavej; he got beaten almost to death.

 

-

 

‘Wake up! Wake up!’ Jagdeep felt someone slapping his cheeks and then a tub of water being splashed all over him. Only this time they didn’t laugh.

 

He tried to sit through the searing pain his body felt. He rubbed his eyes and blinked to have a clear view to find a woman sitting in front of her.

 

‘You!’ he whispered with his eyes wide open with shock.

 

‘Yes,’ the woman whispered back taking a sip from wine.

 

Jagdeep stared at her without blinking until his eyes gave up and he looked down. The woman chuckled.

And then in an instant he knew why she wanted him here, kidnapped. He had always been right but he never paid attention or may be her eyes were always satisfying when he wanted answers.

 

Jagdeep felt her coming closer and then she sat in front of him, so close.

 

‘Sleepy, you have made me wait four days. So late, I am so late,’ she whispered in his ear and stood up hurriedly.

 

Jagdeep sat there motionless, without even looking at her.

 

‘Bhavej,’ she said authoritively.

 

‘Yes ma’am,’

 

‘Burn him in the streets of Aiwan-e-Chohan tonight, your payment will be given to you early in the morning,’

Jagdeep looked up at her, unbelievably and then he met his eyes with hers; Yes, those satisfying green beautiful eyes as ever, strong and brave. But selfish too; he noticed this for the first time, her long black eyelashes always used to hide the selfishness in her eyes. He sighed as his view began to blur with the tears and he looked down, falling to the floor again.

 

***

Aisey nahi mar sakta mera shohar… ‘My husband can’t die this way,’ she whimpered, her beautiful sharp eyes swollen.

 

‘It’s okay, Ayushmati behan. Everything will be fine,’ the woman sitting beside her reassured, patting her shoulder.

 

‘Everything will be fine? He just didn’t die, he was burned! He was innocent! A simple man with no enemies,’ she cried.

 

‘Indeed, he was a very good man, Krishna would help, what really had happened sister?’ the woman asked softly.

 

‘We couldn’t find him anywhere since last four days, then at night we heard people yelling and knocking horribly at our door and there he was dead and burning and…’ Ayushmati broke into sobs and woman kept patting her shoulder until her sobs eliminated.

 

Ayushmati stayed there weeping, hugging her knees beside her husband’s dead body which had been now covered with a long white chador hiding his brutal condition while everyone from the village came to grief at such a melancholic incident not only because it was a Chohan family but that was the rule of villages of Hindustan: Whenever someone is ill or die, everyone has to present themselves as it will be considered ruthless if they didn’t.

 

Antyeshti took place in the evening following all the rituals. Ayushmati slept as soon as it was over and woke up soon. In the dark hour of night Ayushmati changed into different, easier clothes, washed her face, took her rebozo and went out of Chohans’ streets into dark streets of society of Rajputs of Bharatpur.

 

 

***

 

‘Woaa!’ he exclaimes, but it comes as only a sigh.

 

Unable to believe he rubs his eyes again, then again and caresses the treasure he was trying terribly to find since last six months, he had gone beyond his limits to own this treasure and now he had found it in a grave of a small child sandwiched between two larger graves.

 

He heard of this treasure by a group of drunken people when he was studying at the university of London back in 1878, then he heard a friend of his talking about that treasure while working on an article about Hindustan’s area named as Bharatpur, found in Rajasthan. Then he didn’t know how it became his purpose of living to find that treasure hidden in one of the graves in the graveyard of Muslims, living in one of the eastern villages named as Bharatpur. He researched further to know that Muslims and Hindus were both emerged together in this village. That was the time he promised himself to find the treasure.

 

He slowly opens the box, shattering his unwanted thoughts, to find gold and silver jewelry just as he had expected, only now it seemed more miraculous than his imaginations.

 

He starts caressing and kissing and inspecting each jewel until he realizes he is acting childish and laughs, he laughs till his stomach aches.

 

Soon, he stands up, dust his clothes, rub his wrists and pick up the treasure box.

 

‘Keep this as a gift,’ he whispers and laughs again kicking the shovel into the grave of that small child.

 

Quietly, peeking out of the graveyard, he hurries towards a small empty house lying two kilometers away from the graveyard.

 

-

 

‘Why did you kill Jageep, Ayushmati?’ Mohan snarls under his breath sitting on a Charpai.

 

 

‘I needed to, father,’ Ayushmati snarls back.

 

‘I understand he was worried for your nights out, but he trusted you, everything was under control and all you took after kidnapping him was five nights and here we are, with the jewels with us, and you killed him!’ Mohan says angrily.

 

‘He was always acting as a lovey-dovey, asking thousand of questions all day long, and all, he was simply irritating and of course I couldn’t afford being married to him all my life!’ Ayushmati fights back.

 

‘Ugh! You gave orders for burning him, Ayushmati and then you ran away like this, they are finding you everywhere, so what if Chohans and Rajputs streets are different, the village is one and they will find you till the morning.’

 

‘I was thinking of that and I decided to deport now plus I don’t trust your friend who owns this house.’

 

‘Now? I am sleepy,’ Mohan yawns, ‘we’ll set up early in the morning.’

 

Ayushmati stands up, closes the box full of jewels.

 

‘I am going now, if you want to come, then come.’

 

‘But Ayushmati…’

 

‘Shut up!’ Ayushmati cuts in.

 

‘Remember, I am your father,’ Mohan says, dominatingly.

 

‘More a burden than a father,’ she whispers.

 

‘What?’ Mohan inquires, irritatingly.

 

‘Let’s go!’ she says, setting her shirt into place, tying her hair into a bun, then setting her rebozo so she could not be distinguished if she was a man or a woman. Mohan appraises her by raising his eyebrow at her and she winks getting out of the creepy house.

 

They walk and walk as they cannot find any horse-carriage who could lead them to the sea and they already have decided to walk even if they saw some horse, as they didn’t want themselves to get noticed.

 

‘Well, your job was worth appraising,’ Mohan chides.

 

‘I know,’ Ayushmati says tonelessly.

 

‘Why your mood is off?’ Mohan asks.

 

‘Is it? May be I am just tensed about getting safely to ship at this hour of night with a box filled with gold and silver.’

 

‘Ssshh, it’s not the place to discuss it here now, Ayushmati.’

 

‘Do you hear some voices?’ Ayushmati asks.

 

‘No, why?’

 

‘Listen carefully, Mohan.’

 

‘Father,’ Mohan says.

 

‘Whatever,’ Ayushmati slaps on Mohan’s back as a signal for him to be quiet.

 

‘Yes, I can listen some of the voices now,’ Mohan whispers after a minute.

 

Ayushmati drags him to a nearby tree and they hide. It take fifteen minutes for the bunch of people to come closer, they are talking in some other language but Ayushmati knows it’s something about her as she can guess them saying her name. In a couple of minutes people vanishes away in the dark streets. Ayushmati takes a deep breath and realizes that her heart is beating faster than ever in all this time.

 

‘May be because I am with all these jewels,’ she concludes and continues walking with Mohan towards the sea.

 

-

 

By the morning, they reach the sea and buy their tickets. The sun is looming over them.

 

‘We chose wisely to leave the house at night,’ Mohan declared.

 

‘We? I remember it was me,’ Ayushmati says staring at the sea.

 

‘Oh come on! Now set your mood,’

 

‘Not until I reach Kanpur,’

 

Kanpur was the village where she was born, leaving her mother and father, she had come to study at university of London until this treasure idea thrilled her being and she lied to her parents that she’ll be needing two more years to properly complete her studies, uneducated were her parents and so they agreed happily. How could they ever know that when their daughter will return she’ll be no longer a human but a