This is also my entry for the IBL at writeupcafe and also won me the IBL Booker prize for it!! Yay!!
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The winter had gotten too
cold for comfort.
“Let me get this fire
burning,” said Sahay, as he walked to the fireplace. “It’ll keep us warm.”
Bittu sat huddled on the farthest corner of
the couch. He was already feeling quite warm in the oversized pullovers of
Sahay’s son. This was actually the warmest he had ever felt. His previous
winters had all been spent huddled together with Chintu and Motu under one
tattered blanket that Jaggu dada had given them. It had just been a few days
since he had been adopted by the Sahay’s but he already missed his bosom
buddies. He wondered how Chintu and Motu were coping with his absence. Were they missing him too? Jaggu Dada
was not the kindest of caretakers but Bittu had always felt at home at the
orphanage. He had lived there ever since he was born.
“Ah! Here we go!” said
Sahay as the fire leapt up from the logs.
“No!” screamed Bittu
closing his eyes and covering his face as soon as the first flame leapt up in
the fireplace.
“Are you ok son?” asked
Mrs. Sahay gently caressing his hair.
Bittu did not reply. He
ran out of the room and hid under the staircase. Mrs. Sahay found him weeping
copiously and shivering with fright.
“Oh, you poor baby,” she
said pulling him out of his hiding hole. “Did something scare you child?”
No answer. Just a few
more sniffles.
“It’s ok. Let me put you
to bed. You’ll feel better.” And with that she led him to his room and tucked
him into bed.
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Two men stood by the door blocking the exit. Two
others had pinned his mother down and he saw her struggling to break loose. One
of them had covered her mouth with his big hairy hand and held her hands together
with the other. A bracelet hung loosely from his wrist, something like an ‘A”
overlapping an ‘S” in gold at the center. The other accomplice was pouring some
liquid on her clothes. He saw her eyes turn red….very red, before they
eventually bulged out and she stopped struggling. There was a collective round
of laughter and then the man with the hairy hands took out a match box from his
pockets. He lit a cigarette and propped it into his mouth and threw the lit
matchstick on one end of his mother’s saree. A huge ball of flame suddenly
engulfed his mother’s body and he saw the four guys running out of his house.
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“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa………”
An ear splitting scream
rented the air and almost jolted the Sahay’s out of bed. Mrs. Sahay rushed to
Bittu’s room. He was sitting up, staring in to space, beads of perspiration
running down his forehead.
“What happened? Did you
see a bad dream?”
He sat like a rock.
“Here, drink some water,”
she prodded, pushing a glass of water into his little hands.
“Why don’t you sleep next
to him Arun,” she asked her husband.
“No, I’m ok” said the
little boy.
“Sleep tight little one,
we’ll all go camping tomorrow. You enjoy that.” said Mrs. Sahay, pulling the
sheets over him and gently placing a kiss on his forehead.
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The forest was beginning
to get denser.
“Let’s camp here. I don’t
want to go further in.” protested Sahay’s son. “It’s getting scarier too.”
They set up their camps
on the banks of a stream nearby while Sahay piled up the wood for the campfire.
Bittu watched him nervously as he lit the fire and put on the music. The sight
of the fire leaping up and dancing in the gentle breeze was intimidating and
Bittu’s face drained of colour.
“No fire...No fire… put
it out…put it out…” he screamed waving his hands frantically.
“It’s going to be cold
soon, son, we’ll need it to stay warm” he reasoned.
Bittu began sobbing
uncontrollably and Mrs. Sahay forced her husband to put it out and suggested
that they head back home.
What’s with this boy, wondered Arun, as he doused the fire that had
taken so long to ignite. He is just ten,
but terribly scared of something. I must find out. Could he have been in an
accident? Probably a fire accident?
