Kunkumapoove: The Saffron Flower, Part 3

Ranchit handled the pistol in his hand and explained to her. “You should be able to load the pistol and take the stance to shoot.”

She closely followed whatever he did. Then she took her stance and shot at the cutout with the marking. The bullet simply touched its left side and was lost in the air.

“Focus, alright, you'll get it right.” Ranchit said to her. She shot again four times in a row. Thrice she missed but one of them hit the cutout, a little bit towards the left.

He patiently told her to breathe. “Relax, okay? And keep your eye on the target.” Again she took her stance. 

“Remember how Arjuna had eyes only for the fish’s eye, the rest was nothing for him. Only the eye.”

She saw the marking and let its sight absorb within her being. Breathing in deeply, she touched the cold trigger. 

Crack! The bullet was out, landing closer to the middle. 

“Hm… Good, good enough.” 

She lowered her arm. Sweat streamed down her face.

“All you need is practice, then you'll soon improve.”

Soyara nodded. He tapped her shoulder and excused himself. 

Satya saw her practice from his cabin. Her movements were a lot more confident than the previous day, even graceful if one had an eye for finer details. Her straight hair moved sleekly, her navy blue dress fitted her well. Her arms too were visible; although lean, they were slightly sinewy. Then he saw her eyes: brown, a little bit upturned and reflecting firmness. A firmness to continue.

***

At night, Ishrat rushed into Satya’s cabin, nearly out of breath. 

“Satya! Jayesh is leaving us!”

Ranchit jumped in his seat, “How come?”

“That's what I'm wondering. Sounds like he made his decision out of thin air!”

A quiet voice said, “That's alright.”

Ranchit and Ishrat turned to Satya, astounded.

“If he wants to leave, I think we must let him go.”

“How can you say that? What if the police get him and he blurts out everything while enduring third-degree?”

Satya simply looked at Ishrat, his eyes shining in the dark like those of a cat.

Meanwhile, a young man was in haste. He was preparing to leave. As he drove past the countryside, a sense of relief passed his mind. Suddenly, his car slowed down and came to a halt. 

“No-no no! Not now!” He said to himself. Before he could remove his seatbelt, he froze as a figure appeared outside his car. The night was cold yet Jayesh felt sweat trickling down his forehead. 

The familiar figure sat inside the car and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Satya?” Jayesh blurted out.

“I respect your decision.” He said quietly, “I just wanted to wish you luck.”

Jayesh gulped hard, when did he become so friendly?

Satya soon left the car and continued walking away. As Jayesh saw his retreating figure, the car exploded. Shards of metal flew around while huge flames engulfed the young man.

Satya didn't look back.

***

“She's quite impressive!” Ranchit said to Ishrat one evening, “A quick learner. Seems like she was trained beforehand.”

“That's exactly what worries me.” Ishrat said. “How could she be already trained if she has no connections? At least that's what we’re assuming.”

“But isn't that a good sign! We don't have to invest a lot in her.”

They sat down for a drink as they often did. Soyara was already there, examining her pistol.

“What are you up to?” Ishrat narrowed his eyes.

She stood up with a jolt. “Nothing. I was just—”

“Oh come on!” Ranchit slapped his companion's back, “You don't have to get annoyed by her presence.”

The latter bent towards him and whispered, “Your trust for her is certainly annoying me!”

“Never mind! Hey Soyara, bring the whiskey to the table.”

As she did, both of them filled their glasses, added ice cubes and gulped down their drinks at once. They soon began chatting; talks about arms dealing, bomb blasts, shootouts began dripping from their mouths. Gradually the whiskey was taking over their senses. 

Soyara listened to them, it plunged her deeper into the past, three years ago.

The room in her small house was illuminated by a teeny filament bulb which threw a creamy yellow light on the clay walls. Her maternal uncles were seated on the mats, draining large amounts of mahuli down their throats. There were few women too, her aunts who drank alongside. Their screams could be heard in the whole house.

“You see— Yeshwant! I told the moron to empty his wallet as I put the gun against his forehead! That fellow peed his pants right there!” Roars of laughter soon followed. 

“There's nothing so new about that! But do you guys know? I’ve got a beauty for you all!”

“What?” A feminine voice blurted out, “Are you bringing a shrew home? Have you forgotten me?” Then she gave him a push.

“Oh no my dear! It's something else!” Then he rose to call out, “Soyara, hey Soyara!”

Then others chanted in unison, “Soyarabai! Do come!”

Soyara trembled and went to the room. “Y-yes, Mama?” She stuttered. They broke into laughter again.

“See! See! She murmurs in that same, tiny voice!” 

“Hey listen, bring that big bottle alright? I’ve hidden it in the hay. Go!”

In five minutes, she returned with the bottle but remained anchored outside the room. They did not notice her. Her legs shook as she read the label. 

English liquor? They’re already acting like dogs after having mahuli, what’ll this thing make them do?

Her heart throbbed wildly in her throat as she stepped ahead a little. Closing her eyes, she let go of the bottle. 

Smash! The din of the drunk voices stopped as they turned towards the door. The giant, fine bottle now lay shattered, the funny-smelling liquor shone like a mud pool in the bulb’s light. 

“You insolent brat!” Mahadu mama shrieked in anger. He went ahead and slapped Soyara harshly. 

“Don't you know? Don't you know the value of this thing? Do you even deserve to hold it, you bloody—” He grabbed her hair and picked up a shard of the bottle. The sharp shard lay ahead of her, inches away from her nose.

She saw him, reeking of alcohol and fury. She did not react.

“Mahadu, leave her. Leave her.” The rest of them wrung her out of his grip. He was still flushed with anger. 

“Silly girl! There was no need to send her! Clumsy as ever.”

“Go, get out!” Yeshwant whispered to his niece. She ran away, far from them. The dawn’s light was visible, she ran towards the lake in Norcote. 

It was a small lake; a safe haunt for her. The waters were still, reflecting the sky. Gazing into it, she saw herself. The reflection rippled a bit.

***

A loud guffaw from Ishrat pulled her out of her past. The two young men threw their heads back as they reclined on the chairs. Ranchit by now had lit a fat cigar. The air was suffused with the stink of whiskey and burnt tobacco. Soyara held her breath, trying to let in only a few breaths.

Keeping the pistol aside, she approached them, “Ranchit?”

“Yeah?”

“I think it's enough. You better go and sleep.”

“Okie, Miss Soyara! As you say.” He picked up his coat and walked towards the door. “Ciao!” He saluted her.

As soon as he was out, she turned to Ishrat who was seemingly in a complete trance.

“Ishrat?”

“Hmm?”

“Ishrat, you too. I suppose, it's enough.”

He sat up, “You suppose? But I don't!” Again he reclined back, “Let's see, prepare me a drink.”

Soyara frowned. “Pardon?”

“I said, prepare me a drink!”

She thought a little before replying, “No.”

“What?”

“I won't.”

“You won't— eh? I ain't requesting you, just shut up and give me a drink.”

She reeled back, about to leave the room until she felt a firm hold on her arm. It was Satya. He silently filled a glass halfway and picked it up. Then without a warning, he splashed the whiskey on Ishrat’s shirt.

Startled, Ishrat got up from his seat and raised his hand, about to strike her. Satya grabbed his hand midway.

“Go to your room.” He whispered to the drunk figure in his same, icy cold voice.

“Satya, you?” 

He gave Ishrat a powerful shove, making him stagger back. The latter heeded and trudged out of the room.

Soyara watched the whole thing; too scared to react, while her heart continued to race. Satya unknowingly touched the scar on her left arm as he held her. She gasped a little; being used to the callousness of hands, she found his touch surprisingly soft. Soon, he let go of her. She turned around to look for him, but he was out of sight.

Stealthy as a cat, she thought. 

"English liquor? They’re already acting like dogs after having mahuli, what’ll this thing make them do?"