The Unventured Passions Book-2

I have Your Back

The jeep careened down a narrow, dirt road, flanked by vast stretches of green paddy fields on either side. Here and there, swaying palms and stately coconut trees punctuated the endless expanse of emerald. The air was heavy with the musky scent of damp earth and the symphony of birdsong that echoed through the canopy of leaves overhead. Anirudh's heart pounded in his chest as they drew nearer to their destination - a small, scanty post office in the middle of nowhere.

As the jeep screeched to a halt, Anirudh leapt out, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Behind him, Officer Paul Davidson raced to catch up. The post office was a humble affair - a single, cramped room furnished with a knitted cot. A lone, middle-aged man dozed in the corner, his slumber abruptly interrupted by the arrival of the two officers.

"Jaamtala post office?" Anirudh panted, his voice urgent.

The man stirred, his eyes bleary with sleep. "Umm... yes, Babu," he stammered, clearly taken aback by the sudden intrusion.

Anirudh wasted no time with pleasantries. "I'm looking for a young..." he began, but the man's confusion was palpable. Anirudh's frustration boiled over. "What?" he demanded, his tone harsh.

The postmaster swallowed nervously, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "I... I have spent the entire money, Babu. It's been more than a week, so I thought you wouldn't return." He glanced at Anirudh, his expression one of half-hearted confusion. "Give me a few days' time."

"What money?" Anirudh snapped, his patience wearing thin. Paul had joined him by now, his features etched with concern. "What money?" Anirudh repeated, this time with more force.

The postmaster faltered. "For... for the motorcycle rent," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No need to get the white officer involved, Babu. I'll pay you the deposit right away." He rose shakily to his feet, but Anirudh grabbed him by the shoulder.

Without another word, Anirudh produced a polaroid photograph from his chest pocket and held it out. "Are you talking about this man?" he demanded. The postmaster squinted, taking a good look at the picture.

"He... he looks like..." he muttered, trailing off. He raised his gaze to meet Anirudh's. "Where is he now?" Paul interjected, his voice urgent. "Tell us now, or..."

The postmaster fell to his knees, his hands clasped in supplication. "I... I don't know, Saheb," he whimpered. "He rented my motorcycle for three days and paid me money. He said he'll go to the village."

"And?" Anirudh prodded.

"It's been a week," the postmaster replied, his eyes downcast. "So I thought..."

Anirudh's jaw tightened. "Which way is the village?" he demanded.

"North from here, five miles," the postmaster replied, his voice shaking. Anirudh turned to Paul, a look of grim determination etched on his features. "Let's go," he said tersely.

As they raced out of the post office, Paul cast a final glance at the trembling man. "Was there a girl with him?" he asked. The postmaster nodded, his eyes wide, looking at the tall British officer fearfully.

"A... A widow, saheb..." He stammered, "He was with a widow."

As the jeep finally arrived at the border of the desired village, Anirudh's anticipation was palpable. His eyes were eager and his voice was raised as he peered out the window, addressing a small group of men walking towards them.

"Which way is Srimati Meenarani Chatterjee's residence? The old widow whose son was a doctor!" he explained. But the men merely shrugged and replied, "We are from the next village, Babu. We don't know anyone by that name."

Anirudh's hope deflated like a balloon, and a dark cloud of disappointment and frustration enveloped his entire demeanor. Paul Davidson looked worried too, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a readiness to flee or fight at a moment's notice.
"We'll find them Ani!" He kept assuring.

"Where are you going?" Anirudh asked the men again, and one of them replied after a bit of hesitation.

"They caught a witch!" He hused,
"And we're going to see her burn!" Another added.

The clouds suddenly grew darker, and so did Anirudh's face in fear. But he was determined. Clearing his throat he looked at the rear mirror.
"Let's go". He pointed in front and declared, "This way."
The fear in the atmosphere and in the two men inside the jeep was mounting with each passing moment, building a crescendo of anticipation, and heaps of thudding heart beats.

Every second felt unbearable, and as they finally  approached the scene of the crowd, they noticed fire torches burning in the air from a far. Anirudh and Paul were ready for the worst. Paul's hand instinctively reached for the service revolver in his belt, while Anirudh jumped from the jeep and ran towards a heap of bloodied bodies lying motionless on the ground.

The crowd was baffled, then angry at this sudden intervention, but before they could react, the atmosphere shook with the sound of gunfire. Paul Davidson had fired on a man holding a glowing fire torch, about to light the pyre where a half senseless girl was tied mercilessly to a pole.

"Meerah!" Officer Davidson screamed, and with all her dying strength, Mira forced her eyes open and looked at her savior.
"Save him Paul Dada, save him!" she gasped before collapsing unconscious once again.

Panic and fear erupted in the crowd as they ran in all directions, out of sight of the two elite men. Anirudh, meanwhile, was cradling the bloodied, unconscious body of his brother Batuk on his lap, tears streaming down his face.

"Batuk! Batuk, I'm here bhai... Open your eyes!"
Anirudh had fat tears in his eyes. He had sank down on the ground and had pulled up the bloodied unconscious body on his lap.

"Batuk, Shona Amar... Open your eyes...!" His voice choked, as his eyes fell on the visible broken bone of his brother's left arm. The eyes are purple and face bruised.
Anirudh couldn't bear anymore.
He got up like a demented soul and looked around, as a bucket of water caught his sight.
He hurried towards it, quickly splashed some water on Batuk's face and held him tightly to his chest.
He was still breathing!

"Batuk... Batuk... " He shook him vigorously.

Anirudh's heart was pounding like a drum. He could feel life slowly returning to his brother's body, but the injuries were severe. Batuk's left arm was visibly broken, his eyes were purple, and his face was bruised.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Batuk opened his bruised eyes and looked up at Anirudh with a mix of terror and relief.

"Mi... Mira..."
Anirudh's eyebrows furrowed at his brother's first comprehendable words.

"Mira"
He kept murmuring inaudibly.
"Dada... Mira... Save her..." His words were slow and staggered and Anirudh nodded his head to console him.
"I... I can't live without... without her!" Batuk closed his eyes once again, leaving Anirudh seated like a statue on the grass seat, clutching his brother's head in his arms.

Just a few minutes may be, but it felt bleak to Anirudh as he finally sighed deeply, his heart heavy with unfathomable emotion. From the corner of his eye, he saw his friend Paul Davidson cradling another unconscious body in his arms, rushing towards the jeep in a haste. "Meerah!! Open your eyes!" Paul continued to scream.

It felt like a nightmare come to life, with emotions and actions running high like a tempestuous storm, and Anirudh slowly got up from the ground with his brother's body in his arms.

"Hurry up mate! The girl is dying!"
He heard Paul scream once again.