Agastya : The War

16 : Behind The Bars

Read this chapter till the end. Something interesting awaits you!

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'These jail cells are perhaps the only places on Earth, where the good had been imprisoned. Our fellow humans certainly didn't build those prison cells pouring complete ignorance into them. They had been cautious, extremely cautious. Our ancestors said, 'Ignorance is bliss.' Nonetheless, things are completely divergent here. It appeared like the builders had purposefully put in their gruesome sentiments into the construction of these jail cells. How premeditatively had it been designed! These jail cells are more like a coffins with headrooms, with the only rays of light was what crept in under the door. There is enough space for the prisoners only to hurl with the aid of the knees and bent down in a way that was certain to give them lifelong trouble. Perhaps, they won't be able to play their desired roles in the destination that they wanted. The only sound they heard other than inmates banging rhythmically on the walls, was perhaps the choir of gruesome pain when they were inflicted to physical pain. What a miserable life! That too, just for wanting to see their own country free?'

These were the lines that The Sacrosanct had been thinking along all the time. She was standing at the threshold of the jail room, deciphering the atrocities that were hurled at her fellow countrymen.

"May the Lord be with them," She murmured, her joined hands touching her forehead, in prayer.

Having decided to meet the poor man who had been cuffed under the false pretext of being Agastya, Suhashini Bannerjee had made up her mind to listen to the entire story from the man himself. To succeed in her mission, she had to visit the jail cell.

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Agastya's team was vivid. Perhaps, all the young women of the happening area of Churagarh, whose fates had been trampled by the plans of the Universe, were a part of the Sacrosanct's team. Suhashini Bannerjee had always been an elite orator. It wasn't knackering for her, in convincing the young girls about the significance of independence and power. Suhash knew that she might not have the strongest body like a literary warrior would have, for she was born petite. A little too fragile. So she had chosen to sharpen the dual-armaments : Brain and tongue.

For this, she was never in haste. Always, alert and careful. This composed demeanor had enabled her in establishing an unbreakable network of spies. Even the tiniest bits of information would reach her within minutes. This was so because, in the British department in Churagarh, women were employed in tasks of sweeping and cleaning. Consequently, Suhash's army was present everywhere, even at the jail cells, to provide them with food and water. But, this time, Suhashini Bannerjee had herself chosen to enter the jail cell,  dressed as a servant.
Her attire constituted of a saree, dilapidated and filthy. The ghomta had reached below her chin, but she managed to have a full view of the environment through the pores of her 'Suti' saree.

Her eyes, only searching for the face of the poor man. 'He must be starving,' she thought.

The other of the cadre were employed at distributing food to the prisoners. But, Suhashini went out to look for the unfateful man.

As per sources, he was secluded at the cell, facing the backyard of the horrendous building.

It was Tartarean. Jet black and feculent. And, taciturn. The other phase of the building had been violent, having kept embosomed young revolutionaries, who sought to bring about a change. Freedom to their motherland. This phase was absolutely silent. Not even one of the rotten dried leaves in the dilapidated compartment dare to move. The corridor was long. And, the prison cells distant.