The Third Eye (5 page)

Tara held out a glass of water, which her father took without a word. After splashing his face, gargling, and drinking the rest, he sat down in the shade of the tree and pulled his plate toward him. Tara and Suraj started eating.

Only the harsh cry of a crow disturbed the afternoon.
No one spoke. Tara stared at her father, each bite sticking like a bit of coal in her throat.
Where are you, Father? Why won't you talk to us anymore?
At that moment her father glanced up at her. Tara stared at the brown eyes that had once brimmed with love. Now they resembled a dried-up well.
It's almost like Lord Yama, the God of Death, visited you, Father. He took your soul but he forgot to take your body.

They all continued eating steadily and within a short while the plates were clean. Shiv washed his hands and then lay down under the tree for a nap.

“Didi, we don't have to go home right away, do we? There's an anthill I want to explore.”

His sparkling eyes and smile, as rare as the peacock she had sighted, were too much to resist.

“All right, Suraj. But you have an hour or so at the most. Okay?”

He nodded and zipped away.

Tara lay down a distance away from Shiv, gazing at his face. He had not spoken a word to them all afternoon. She could remember the time when he spoke so much, especially the stories he told them. She had been fascinated by the one about Lord Yama when he came to claim Satyaban, the young prince. She loved the way Savitri outwitted the God of Death.

Tara put an arm over her eyes to block out the sunbeams dancing between the shimmering leaves. From the depths of her memory, the strong deep voice of her father washed over her.

“In the days of old it was said that there lived a beautiful princess named Savitri, the daughter of King Aswapati of Madra Desa. She was unparalleled both in virtue and beauty. Her father was unable to find a suitable husband for her, and so she was given complete freedom to choose her own. With a band of wise ministers she traveled to many countries but couldn't find anyone she wanted to spend her life with. While returning home through a jungle, a handsome young man cutting wood caught her eye. The young man was none other than Satyaban, a prince in exile who was living in the forest with his blind parents. Savitri selected him as her husband. But Narada, a musician and sage, forecasted that he would die young.”

Tara felt her pulse quicken even now, as it had then, whenever she heard about “death.” Her father's voice continued.

“The king pleaded with his beloved daughter to select another husband. But Savitri was firm in her decision and ultimately married Satyaban. She left the palace and lived with her husband and in-laws in the forest. As a devoted wife and daughter-in-law she looked after them very well. Gradually, the ordained time for Satyaban's death drew near. One day, while cutting wood in the jungle, he fell into a swoon and died, his head cradled in the lap of his beloved wife.”

A sharp stone dug into Tara's shoulder blade. She shifted her weight, closed her eyes, and drifted back to her father's soothing voice as he continued the story.

“As Savitri sat weeping, she saw a large, green man astride a red bull come up to her. He towered well over Savitri and carried a mace. He was Lord Yama, the God of Death. He told Savitri that he had come to take her husband away. She refused him and clung to Satyaban's body. Lord Yama lifted Satyaban's body, put it on the bull, and rode away. Sobbing, Savitri followed. He could hear the silvery tinkle of her anklets as she followed him toward Taksala, the Gates of the Underworld.

“‘Go back, Savitri. You cannot get your husband back,' said Lord Yama.

“‘I cannot leave him, my Lord,' she answered.

“‘I will grant you three wishes. Ask for anything but your husband's life,' said Lord Yama, taking pity on a woman who was widowed at such a young age.

“For her first wish, she asked that her father-in-law regain his kingdom. For her second wish, Savitri asked that her in-laws be granted their eyesight. Lord Yama granted both her wishes immediately,” Shiv's voice, warm and full of love and wisdom, continued.

At this point, Tara remembered, she had put her head in her father's lap and he had stroked her hair. She felt her chest tighten.

“‘You have one more wish. Ask for anything but your husband's life,' said Lord Yama.

“‘I wish to be the mother of a hundred sons,' said Savitri promptly.

“‘Granted,' said Lord Yama, equally promptly.

“Then he realized what had happened and he smiled at her cleverness. Savitri's religion did not allow a widow to remarry and Satyaban's soul was in his hands. He had no choice but to restore him to life to fulfill the third wish he had granted Savitri. Lord Yama, in spite of being outwitted, was moved by Savitri's devotion. Satyaban came back to life again and both of them lived happily ever after.”

Tara awoke to a harsh caw and felt something wet on her forearm. She sat up. Was it raining? There was not a cloud in the sky. She felt her face. Her cheeks were wet. She shot a glance to where her father lay. The spot was empty.

She dragged herself up with a deep sigh. She had dozed off and it was late in the afternoon. She would get an earful from Kali, she was sure of that. Calling a reluctant Suraj to her, they gathered the empty dishes and headed home as fast as they could.

As they entered the hut they braced themselves for a torrent of abuse.

Silence.

“Tara, Suraj, you're back already? Come here my children,” called out Kali in an unrecognizably sweet voice.

Tara and Suraj looked at each other in amazement.

“Is that Mother?” he asked in surprise. “I've never heard her speak this way to us. Do you think she loves us all of a sudden, or has a demon possessed her?”

Tara shook her head and shushed him as they entered the kitchen. Kali sat in front of the fire preparing dinner.
To one side of the stove lay an open vessel that gave off the most delicious fragrance.

“Mother, is that rice kheer?” asked Suraj, smacking his lips.

“Yes, Suraj. Let me put it outside to cool and then you can have some. I made it especially for you and your sister. I have been very bad tempered lately due to my ill health. I thought I would make it up to both of you,” she said, smiling.

She looked like a jackal grinning at the sight of a meal. Tara shivered. Why was Kali doing this?

“Come sit by me, Suraj. Tell me what you did today,” said Kali, still using that sugary-sweet voice.

Tara walked out to the backyard to complete her chores. Unease churned inside her stomach. As she cleaned the yard and sprinkled water to settle the dust, the village stray dog, Moti, wandered in. He looked starved as usual. Engrossed in her thoughts, Tara did not pay any attention to him as he roamed their backyard sniffing at various things and occasionally urinating. In the kitchen, Suraj still chattered away about their morning.

A shrill voice piped in, “Mother I want some kheer. I'm hungry.”

“No, Layla. This is only for Suraj and Tara.”

Tara stiffened in surprise. Layla refused food on their account? Something was very,
very
wrong. She stood in the courtyard chewing her lower lip. Something was going to happen! But what?

In the meantime, Moti had circled the courtyard and stopped outside the kitchen door where the fragrance of the cooling kheer on the back step beckoned to him. He looked around furtively and, seeing no obstacle to a free meal, he put his face into the vessel and lapped up the kheer.

The instant Tara took a step forward to drive him away, an image of Lord Yama astride his bull exploded in her mind. She stood paralyzed. What did it mean? Her mind went round in circles. She stood still and watched as Moti lapped up the kheer with great haste. Within minutes it was gone and Moti slunk off.

Tara continued sweeping and the image faded away, like a strong wind through wisps of smoke. Scared and extremely puzzled, she tried to sort out the thoughts in her mind. Why did she see that image?

“Hai Ram! Who ate the kheer?” shrieked Kali.

Tara snapped out of her reverie. She looked up and saw Kali at the back door, hands on her waist, her face like a thundercloud. Kali narrowed her eyes and her huge bosom heaved.

“Tara, did you eat it?” she yelled.

Tara put down her broom and walked toward Kali.

“No, Mother,” she said with a straight face. “I was sweeping the yard.”

“
LAYLA
,” Kali screeched. “Come here.”

This should be fun, thought Tara. It was not often their stepsister was yelled at.

“Yes, Mother,” said Layla as she came running from the front room where she had been playing with her dolls. One was still tucked under her arm.

“Did you eat the kheer when I told you not to? I had left it out here on the back step to cool and now it's gone.”

“No, Mother.”

A giggle escaped her, which seemed to infuriate Kali. She shook Layla hard.

“Are you sure you didn't eat any?” she demanded.

Layla shook her head and Kali exhaled noisily.

Suraj stood cowering behind Tara. He had been with Kali all the while and was spared her wrath.

“Mother, why are you so angry? I am sure we can make some more kheer. What was so special about it anyway?” asked Tara, observing Kali very closely.

Kali turned pale and sweat stood out on her forehead. She dabbed it in quick, jerky movements with a trembling hand. Large patches appeared at her armpits and rapidly spread on her blouse, giving off an acrid smell.

“You STUPID girl! It took a lot of time to make. I thought you ungrateful children would appreciate the effort. Instead, the kheer has disappeared and no one knows who ate it. Hai Ram ... what liars I am surrounded with.”

Kali glared at the three children as they looked up at her innocently and slightly puzzled.

Suddenly, a loud and agonized howl rent the air. Kali clapped her hand to her mouth, eyes darting right and left.
Tara, Suraj, and Layla looked at her and then all of them turned and raced in the direction of the howl.

Moti lay at the edge of their yard, thrashing his head and uttering the most heartrending howls of agony. Green froth drooled from his mouth, gathering in a pool in the dust, and his body jerked in spasms. Within seconds his yelps and howls became weaker as he succumbed to the intense pain that racked his thin body. Finally, his head lolled and he lay still. They all rushed closer. Even in the fading light of the evening it was unmistakable. Mixed in that green vomit were undigested grains of rice.

Tara looked up in horror.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” screamed Kali, her face the colour of soured milk.

“Moti ate the kheer and died. This kheer was made especially for
us
,” screamed Tara.
To kill us
, completed the small voice inside her.

“Don't be ridiculous,” stammered Kali. “You're talking nonsense! This rabid dog must have eaten some rotten food and died. It had nothing to do with the kheer. Anyway, who says he ate the kheer I made?”

“I saw him,” said Tara, staring at Kali.

The venom in Kali's eyes shocked her. Tara gathered a bewildered Suraj to her and walked off.

“I'm going to tell Father about this,” Tara called over her shoulder, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

Kali strode behind Tara. She grabbed hold of Tara's plait and jerked her around till she was face to face with her.
Black eyes bored into soft brown ones.

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Kali hissed. “One word from you and I'll make both your lives more miserable than they already are. Remember that.”

Tara looked deep into those pitiless eyes and believed her. Kali released Tara, went back into the hut, and slammed the door shut.

I'll pay you back one day
, thought Tara, rubbing her aching scalp.
My day will come
.

That night, as she lay tossing and turning on the thin mattress, Tara's thoughts were very troubled. This was a very close call and there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that this attempt on their life was not the last.
Nor the first
, the small voice piped in. She shivered and gathered Suraj closer to her.

“Didi, why does Mother hate us so much? What have we done wrong?” he whispered in her ear.

Tara heard the deep fear and hurt in his voice.

“I don't know, Suraj.”

There was no point in lying. The more aware they were of danger, the greater their chances of survival.

“I was so happy when she had made the kheer for us. It felt like our real mother was back. But she was only trying to get rid of us forever. I'm so scared,” he said.

His voice broke and he buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing softly.

Tara closed her eyes and took a deep breath to hold back the tears that threatened to break through her fragile
self control.
I'm scared too,
she thought,
but who can I tell?

Trying to keep her voice steady she replied,

“I wish that too, Suraj. But we have to look after ourselves till our real mother comes back. I made a promise to her. And she will be back. I'll bring her back — I will!”

She looked deep into her brother's eyes, trying to make him believe.

“Promise me that from now on you will not eat anything that witch gives you. Only what I feed you. Promise me, Suraj, no matter how hungry you are.”

“I promise, Didi.”

“Good. Now go to sleep and let me think. We have to escape as soon as possible. As long as I am here, I'll not let anything happen to you.”

She smiled at Suraj. He nestled his face against her shoulder and fell asleep, tears still glistening on his thin cheeks. Tara wiped them away gently and cuddled him.