The Third Eye (12 page)

“I've lost someone too,” she said. “My brother. I know what it feels like.”

Ananth shuffled quietly beside her. There was a deep silence.

“My name is Tara. You're Ananth aren't you? I heard you call out your name. I'm from Morni. And you are from ...?”

“Ropar,” answered Ananth in a husky voice. “We were so happy,” he continued. “Then Father died and our world fell apart. I lost a father and now I'm going to lose my mother. It's so unfair.”

His grief overwhelmed him again and his feet crumpled under him. He sat down and covered his face as if ashamed to be so out of control. Tara sat quietly beside him, remembering yesterday.

After a while, Tara stood up and paced, shooting glances at Ananth. Spending the night in the open was making her jittery again. Wasn't he ever going to stop crying? She had to do something.

“Ananth, you have to help me. We need to find shelter. The forest is too dangerous.” Her eyes glistened with tears and her voice trembled. Ananth sat there staring into space.

“Ananth,
GET UP,
” she said, shaking his shoulder. “We can't sit here. We have to move,
NOW!
Let's go back to Ropar.”

“
NO!
” he yelled.

“Why not?” asked Tara

“I-I can't go back. There's nothing there but memories. Where are you going?”

“To find my mother and grandfather.”

“Why?” said Ananth

“I'll tell you later. Can we start walking?” asked Tara, an edge to her voice.

“Where to?”

“Do you know a safe place to spend the night?”

“Yes,” Ananth said after a moment's silence. “It's a bit of a climb into the mountains. There are some hidden caves where my friends and I used to play. Let's go.”

He stood up and held out his hand for one of the bundles. Tara handed it over gratefully. Her back was sore with the extra weight. They started walking away from the village and the path that the procession had taken. Ananth took a last look in the direction that his mother had disappeared. He stared at the brown smudges in the mud almost as if he could see the footprints of his mother's small feet. He stooped and picked up a handful of mud and let it trickle slowly through his hand.

Tara stood silently, an ache in her heart. She had not even had the chance to say goodbye to Suraj.

Abruptly, Ananth stood up and started walking. Tara followed.

•••

“How did your father die?” asked Tara.

Ananth marched silently. Now and then a tear trickled down his cheek. His pace did not slacken and Tara matched his stride in spite of the stitch in her side.

“There is something very evil in the forest,” said Ananth. “Men from our village have been disappearing. No one wants to go into the forests now. Food and firewood are becoming scarce.”

“It's happening in Morni, too,” replied Tara in a listless voice.

“So, what happened to your father?” she asked again.

“He was hunting hares in the forest. He came back late one night. We could barely recognize him; there was a deep gash on his forehead,” said Ananth taking a deep breath to steady his voice.

“And his skin was a translucent green and his feet were at an awkward angle?” finished Tara.

“How did you know that?”

“The same happened to a boy named Ravi in Morni,” replied Tara.

“A man who called himself one of the best healers in these parts appeared and took my father to his hut. That was the last time we saw Father alive,” said Ananth, his chest heaving with anger and sorrow. “My mother wanted to go with him, but the healer refused her. He said no one could see him healing the sick or it would not work.
Father died and we were given his body back to perform the last rites.

“I'll never forget his evil face: that shark-like smile, that bald head, the black robe. He called himself —”

“— Zarku,” said Tara and Ananth simultaneously

“You know him?” asked Ananth.

“Yes. He took the place of my grandfather, Prabala, who used to be the village healer. Since he came, many men have disappeared, especially the ones that openly challenge his skills. The ones that have accepted him are unharmed,” said Tara. “I think he only preys on the strong ones likely to stand up to him. Did your father oppose Zarku in any way? Question his authority?”

“Yes,” said Ananth bitterly. “He tried to tell the Panchayat that Zarku was evil. Soon after, he died. You think the disappearances are related to Zarku?”

“I am sure of it. I saw him last night.”

Ananth stopped and Tara walked straight into him.

“What? You saw Zarku?”

Tara nodded, and quickly recounted everything she had seen and heard.

“I felt sorry for him when he was sobbing,” she said “He missed his mother just like you and I do.”

“Are you mad, Tara?”

“What do you mean?” asked Tara in a cold voice.

“You're sorry for a monster that kills people?”

Tara shrugged.

“Zarku's father blamed him for his mother's death
and beat him often,” said Tara. “Many others made fun of the deformity on his forehead. That is why he wants revenge ...”

“You think I care?” said Ananth, his face red, his chest heaving. “He should be captured, tortured, and killed.”

“So how does that make you different from Zarku?” shot back Tara, equally angry.

“Oh shut up!” said Ananth. “Girls don't know anything!”

The air shimmered with a tinge of red as Tara faced him, her hands on her hips.

“Don't you dare say that to me again! You think you know more because you're a
boy
? HA!” said Tara, her eyes flashing ominously.

“Let's not get into this now,” said Ananth. “So his mother's anklet protects you?”

“It did last night. But I don't know how long it will work. That's another reason we have to find shelter. He is going to send the Vetalas after me,” said Tara in a shrill voice.

“Don't worry,” said Ananth, pointing. “It's not too far now. We must find your grandfather. Prabala is well known in my village. He is said to be the best healer in all of India. He is probably the only one who can stop this monster. Do you know where to look for him, Tara?”

“The Devi Temple in the Shivalik Range that separates the two lakes. It was the place where Grandfather often went to meditate. It is definitely a place to start.”

“I'd like to help, Tara. I've become an orphan, but at least I can prevent my fate befalling other children,” said Ananth, his mouth a thin line.

“That's what my brother and I set out to do,” said Tara, her face clouding.

“And that is exactly what we are going to do, Tara. I just hope we are not too late.”

Tara's breath came in gasps. The exertion of climbing the steep mountain trail with a heavy bundle was taking its toll on her.

Ananth climbed steadily, reaching out now and then to pull Tara over a rough patch. The narrow path snaked around the mountain and as the light faded, the climb became more treacherous. A bone-chilling breeze swept down the mountainside and straight into their unprotected faces. They shook with cold and exhaustion.

“How much longer, Ananth? I can-n-not-t walk anym-more,” said Tara through frozen lips.

“Just a little bit further, Tara. We're almost there.”

Tara willed her mind to forget the pain raging through her exhausted body and kept going.

All of a sudden, Ananth shrugged off his bundle and jumped onto something.

“What is that?” asked Tara

“Dinner!” said Ananth, holding up something long that wriggled furiously. He swept his hand in an arc and dashed a hare onto the ground. It gave a small whimper and was silent. Tara gasped.

“Did you have to do that?” she asked in a pained voice. “We could have fruits or berries.”

“Do you see any fruits around?” asked Ananth.

Tara shook her head.

“Any berries?”

Tara shook her head again.

“Feel like eating grass?”

Tara made a face.

“We have to eat to keep our strength up,” said Ananth. “Packed any spices or salt?”

Tara nodded. “I've got some tandoori masala, and salt, too.”

“Good,” said Ananth. “At least we won't have to eat it plain. Here we are,” he said as soon as a large rock, like an inverted V, came into view.

With their goal so near, an extra burst of energy seemed to infuse their limbs. They scrambled up the last few feet and reached a curtain of vines. It lay like a still, green veil on the face of the mountain. Ananth went up to the green curtain and, thrusting his hand through it, pulled it aside to reveal a large, black cavern.

“Throw the bundles into the cave, Tara, and help me collect some firewood.”

Tara chucked their bundles into the gaping darkness and turned to help Ananth. They collected armloads of dry wood and piled them up at the mouth of the cave. Finally, cold and exhausted, they crawled inside and lay down on the dirt floor to catch their breath. Ananth was the first to get up.

“We have to eat, Tara. Get up and help me cook the hare.”

He stepped out and brought in an armload of wood. The cave floor was dry. The light of the moon filtered in through the fronds, casting a silvery light into the dim depths. He found a couple of rocks at the entrance of the cave, which he positioned a few feet apart to roast the hare.

“Tara, do you have a knife, matches? Come
on
, don't just lie there, help me!”

Tara gave a deep sigh, pulled a bundle to her, dug out the matches, knife, and packets of masala and salt, and threw them to him. It felt so good to be looked after for a change. In a few moments, Ananth had a fire going. He sat on his haunches and held his palms out to the flames. Tara rolled onto her side and looked into the flames as they reached out with wispy orange fingers to touch the low ceiling. The cave was perfect. It was small, cosy, and warming up nicely. As Ananth busied himself stacking the bundles neatly in a corner and laying out the bedding so that they did not have to sit on the hard floor, Tara gazed into the fire.

“If only we had found this two nights ago, Suraj would still be with me.”

Her voice quavered.

“Suraj is your brother?” asked Ananth, without turning around.

“My younger brother,” said Tara. “He had a high fever. I tried to stay awake but could not. When I woke up he was gone. I think wild animals ...”

She burst into tears at the realization that just a few hours ago his small living body had been close to her. Now she would never get to hug him, look into his laughing face, hear him say “Didi” in a hundred different tones depending on his mood.

“Tara, don't think of the past. It hurts too much. I'll be your brother now. I'll look after you. I promise,” said Ananth, coming up to her and stroking her hair.

“Really?” asked Tara, gazing at him with a tear-streaked face. “You promise you won't leave me?”

Ananth pulled a loose thread from his kurta and handed it to her, holding out his right hand. “Go on. We don't have a rakhi, but this thread will do just fine.”

Tara took the thread and, with shaking hands, tied the flimsy cotton thread to Ananth's wrist, completing an age-old ceremony of love between brother and sister. Then he went back to preparing the meal.

“So, why did you run away?” he asked as he began skinning and cleaning the hare near the mouth of the cave.

Tara sighed deeply. “To find my mother and my grandfather.”

“And you say they'll be at the Devi Temple?”

Tara shrugged.

“That's what I need to find out. I know he is still alive.”

“We will find him,” said Ananth. “We need him back.”

Ananth washed the hare with the water out of the animal skin and took it to the fire. He smeared the hare with the red tandoori masala mixed with salt, then skewered it from head to tail using a stout branch and laid it on the rocks.

“And your mother?” asked Ananth.

“She was special, too.”

“How so?”

“She could see into the future,” said Tara.

“Really?” said Ananth, sitting back on his haunches and gaping at her. “What did she see?”

“Many things, but not all of it was good.”

“Oh! Is that why ...,” asked Ananth, and his voice trailed away.

“Can we not talk about it right now?” snapped Tara. “Please?” she said, noting the hurt expression on Ananth's face. “Since she left, our life has turned upside down.”

“Sorry,” said Ananth, staring into the flames. “But if you get it off your chest, you may feel better.”

A wonderful fragrance of roast hare was starting to fill the cave. Occasionally, the fire hissed and crackled as a globule of fat from the meat dropped into the red-hot embers.

“As soon as Mother and Grandfather disappeared,
Father remarried Kali. I'm sure Zarku had something to do with Father remarrying even though we did not see him before Diwali night. Father allowed her to ill-treat us without a word in our defence. After I heard Kali plot with Zarku to kill us, we had to escape. And then I lost Suraj, my baby brother who I was responsible for. I let him die. What an unlucky person I am. I lose the ones that I love the most. Watch out, Ananth, or you'll be next.”

Tara buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

“That is enough, Tara. Not a single word more,” said Ananth sternly. “What's happened with your mother and brother is not your fault. You did the best you could. Look at me. I have lost both my parents. Am I not unluckier than you?”

Tara reached out and held his hand tightly.

“I am so glad I have you, Ananth. It hurts so much to go on living without my family. I wish I could die so we could all be together. I feel as much an orphan as you do. But,” she said, squeezing his hand, “I have you, my brother, and we'll be all right together.”