Laali had found a new rhythm to her day. Every morning, Kabir helped her with the chores before her mother woke up. Then he would sit on the porch with her father as she served him breakfast. Then her parents would be off to work, and occasionally her brother would come home for a meal and disappear again, leaving them together. They would have lunch together, and then Kabir would accompany her to the pond and help her clean. Occasionally, some villagers would invite Kabir for a meal, and he would leave her to have lunch alone. But he promised to compensate for the time, and he did. From lunch till dusk, they would indulge in each other, Kabir satisfying Laali’s curiosity while Laali indulged in his fantasies.
“Why don’t you get married?” Laali asked one day, her fingers playfully ruffling his hair as they lay naked side by side on the floor mat. “It is not like you are celibate.”
“I don’t want to.” Kabir shook his head. “I don’t have time for it.”
“Are you one of them?” Kabir turned to his side as she asked, and his hands were busy on her inviting dusky skin. “One of them?” He asked, nibbling at her ears.
“The people who fight for the motherland.” Laali turned to her side and pushed him away playfully, entwining her fingers with his. “The ones who chant Bande Mataram.”
“What makes you ask that?” Kabir raised his brows eagerly. Laali shook her head, “I heard that they vow to celibacy.”
“Celibacy is a myth.” Kabir searched for the Bidi he had bought and lit one as he sat up, drawing his lungi over his groin. His eyes feasted on Laali as she lay on her back and smiled. “Is it? What about the Sadhus and Sants? Pirs and…”
“I don’t know any, but is it truly possible to not be attracted by something, stirred by desire? Are you even alive if you don’t feel passion?”
“Religion says…” Laali reminded him.
“Religion is ideal, not man.” Kabir shook his head. “Why do you want to know?” He asked suspiciously.
“I am just curious.” Laali shrugged. Before Kabir could enquire further, she had her hands on his groin, pleasuring him. Kabir could tell from the way Laali made a move that she was not new to the experience. Unlike what he assumed, he was not her first. It relieved Kabir to some extent knowing that Laali was in control of her emotions. The tryst continued.
It was not until a week later that Kashim brought home some good news. He had met a youth at the station. He had just taken up a porter’s job in Sealdah and wanted to find a bride. The man was an orphan with no relatives, not asking for a dowry. He would be a good prospect for Laali at last. Laali stood there with her head bowed as her father hugged Kabir and shared the good news once he was back from the market. Laali looked up at her father’s relieved face and Kabir's.
“You want me to marry him?” Her voice startled Kabir as he was about to step into the bush to do his business.
“What?” Kabir asked a little cluelessly. “He is a good lad and your father…”
“Marry me,” Laali demanded. Kabir inhaled. “You know I can’t.”
“Why?” Laali looked irked.
“I can’t tell you that. Now go away before anyone sees you here.” Kabir sounded alarmed.
“You can’t or you won’t?” The girl snapped. “You just used me.”
“You came on to me.” Kabir shook his head and said calmly. “I never promised anything.”
“I thought you cared.”
“I care, hence I am saying marry that man and be happy.” Kabir reminded her.
“What if I can never forget you? Will I not be unfaithful to him that way?” She shook her head as Kabir watched her keenly.
“How?” Kabir frowned. “You will never see me again.”
She started pacing the bush as Kabir looked around, a little alarmed that anyone was watching them.
“I will think about you every day.” Laali stopped to stare at him.
“No, you won’t. You badly wanted what is happening now, so what is the problem?” Kabir could make no sense of it.
“The problem is that I have feelings for you.” Laali’s voice was clear, and her eyes met his. Kabir looked away as she continued observing him.
“How can you allow yourself to have feelings for me? I told you…” He stammered.
Laali chuckled. “You think allowing or not allowing something makes feelings come and go? Have you never fallen in love?”
“I am rational enough as an adult to know which feelings to act upon.” Kabir looked up at her as her smile faded.
“Really? Did I not please you enough for you to have feelings for me?” Laali’s voice was taunting.
“Laali, don’t go there.” Kabir shook his head.
“Please take me away with you. Let's leave for the city. I will not come in your way. I will not demand any time. You can work and have your freedom. Just marry me and I will…” She looked agitated, her face was grim, and her eyes were teary.
“That is enough.” Kabir was cross. “You are sounding absurd. Go marry someone who will love you…”
“What about whom I love?” Laali snapped.
“Laali, don’t be so naive. I can’t…” He shook his head again.
“Give me an answer then. Why? I need to know. I deserve it. Tell me. Tell me now.” She demanded as she stomped her feet down, almost like a child demanding a toy they had been refused.
“Because I don’t want to. You are immature. You are a child.” Kabir waved his hand and shrugged.
“I was not a child till yesterday afternoon, was I?” Laali taunted again, crossing her arms on her chest.
“You came on to me.” Kabir pointed out, trying to regain his composure.
“And that excuses your actions?” Laali asked with a hint of shock.
“I never made excuses, Laali. I will leave at dawn if it makes things easier for you.”
“I will kill myself if you don’t take me with you.” Laali’s words made Kabir look at her a little startled.
“What kind of stubbornness is this? Where will I take you?” he reasoned.
“It doesn’t matter where you go, I want to be with you.” Laali sounded firm.
“Are you insane?” Kabir lost his cool. “I don’t love you. I can’t.”
“Because there is someone else?” Laali demanded to know. Kabir wished she would shut up, and if this was the way, so be it.
“Yes,” he said without any hesitation.
“The one you imagined me to be, isn’t it?” Laali’s questions were straight and awkward for him.
“You told me I could…” Laali smiled faintly at his words.
“Very well. I will agree to the marriage, and you will leave at dawn.” A sense of relief swept across Kabir’s face as Laali walked away briskly, leaving him to his business.
Kabir woke up in the morning, eyeing his packed luggage, when he stepped out of the hut to the porch, hoping to say goodbye to Laali. She was angry the last time they talked, and he did not wish to leave her bitter. He eyed the empty buckets and the unlit oven and frowned at the first light of dawn. Where was Laali? Had she gone for a bath? Her mother walked out behind him, pulling her ghomta and wondering out loud.
“Laali? Where did the girl go?” She glanced over her shoulder inside the hut and called out to her son. “Bashir?” The boy turned in his sleep. “Bashir. Go and see where your sister is. She has not lit the Unun yet. Kabir Bhai will leave soon.”
“There is no hurry…” Kabir murmured politely as the woman picked up the buckets.
He picked up the Neem Datan, contemplating where Laali was. “Now I have to bring water…” She sounded irked. “What does this girl do?” He watched her leave.
Kabir had settled in the Khatiya outside the hut, enjoying the chirping of birds, mooing of cows and rustling of leaves in the quiet village one last time before he headed for the city. It was then that Bashir came running down the path he had left by, frantically waving his hand and shouting. “Baba! Baba! Kabir Chacha! Come quick.” Kabir threw away his Bidi as Kashim came out of the hut, tying his lungi.
“What is wrong?” Before Bashir could answer him, he threw himself into the dirty soil and wailed. “Laali. Laali. The witch took her.”
The entire village had gathered around the well, gasping, wailing, weeping, scared, and chanting prayers. On the edge sat a motionless mother, her buckets thrown away, her hand on her head. The moment she saw her husband, she let out a wail and collapsed. Bashir ran to his mother, still weeping, as the women helped her up. Held her and wailed. Bashir stood motionless as Kabir rushed to the well. He peeped in. On the water was floating Laali, in her red saree and open hair, eyes wide open, mouth open, hands stretched.
“We told her not to come to the well so early. Now the witch has snatched her.” One of the older women spoke. “Hai Hai, what an accident.”
“Murder, the witch murdered her,” Bashir shouted frantically inside the well as his voice echoed. “Let's find and kill the witch.” Nobody came forward to support him.
“Control yourself.” Kashim scolded him with an oddly composed demeanour. “I can’t lose another child to her.”
“What if the witch did not take her?” The village headmaster cleared his throat and spoke.
“Then how did she wind up dead in the well?” Someone asked, displeased.
“What if she killed herself?” The women gasped at his words, and the men protested.
“Why would a child sin by killing herself?” The headmaster grew quiet as Kabir stared at him, pale, like a ghost.
“She was so happy.” Her mother lamented. “We finally found a groom for her.” Kabir suddenly felt like he could not breathe anymore. He stepped back and closed his eyes, and he could see her lifeless body. He ran from the well, back to the open hut and into the room. He held onto the bedding, and his hand froze as he knelt and let out a groan.
“What did I do? I killed you, Laali.” He banged his head against the wooden frame of the bed as he wailed. “Why did you do this?” Kabir suddenly felt like Laali was watching him with those innocent eyes, and her laughter-filled voice turned serious. “I have feelings for you.” Kabir shut his ears with his hands and shook his head. “No. No. No. I am damned. I should have known better. I am sorry, Laali. I am…” Too late.
Kabir could no longer stay in the village. The hut, the people, the sobs and wails, the utensils and oven, the mat and the leafy fan, everything reminded him of Laali. He decided to leave. But where would he go? To the one person who would not judge his sins. Kabir left his village one last time, without any goodbyes.
“This is not your fault.” Meera managed to break the eerie silence of the room. She stood up as Kabir swayed in a self-soothing way, hugging his knees as he cried. “Compose yourself.” Meera proceeded to open a window so that the smoke and suffocation could be replaced with some fresh air.
“How is it not my fault? I used her.” he looked up at Meera as the light from the street swept into the room.
“No, you did not. If you did, so did she. You made no false promises. It was on her. She could choose to live.”
“Laali was a child. Meera. I spoiled her.”
“Did you? No innocent child acts on their desire the way she did with you at the first chance she got.” Meera raised her eyebrows.
“Why are you defending me?” Kabir frowned.
“Because her death is not in your hands. You can never harm an innocent person, even if you kill a dozen of those Goras.” Meera’s voice was firm.
“I feel empty…” Kabir shook his head. “I did not know who else to turn to…”
“I have to leave before the house wakes up.” Meera checked her watch. “I will come back tomorrow.”
“I won’t be here tomorrow.” He said nonchalantly.
“Where will you go?” She asked.
“Sharat has summoned me on a mission.” Kabir made her frown.
“Then come back here after it, I will be here.” A faint smile appeared on Kabir’s lips. He was unsure whether he would return at all. Sharat said the mission was dangerous. Meera could read the silence behind the smile. Her face grew pale as she inhaled. He held out the keys to the apartment.
“Here is a set, I made it for you. In case I don’t return, take my belongings.” Meera inhaled and took the keys from Kabir.
Mohini appeared at Jessore Sadar on Sunday at her usual hour at the point where Nithercot picked her up. When his carriage did not arrive, she hailed a carriage to his Kothi by herself. At first, the guards were reluctant to let her in, then, when she insisted and swore to make a scene, they told her that Saheb had found another entertaining girl. She stormed inside the house, Nithercot, as her heart thumped on her chest. She had made sure she was not suspected by disappearing on Nithercot or their appointments. She rushed past Jones, who looked unsurely at her while coming out of the house, while another guard tried to stop her in vain. She pushed the door of the room ajar and was surprised to find Nithercot in the arms of another younger girl who danced behind Mohini on most evenings when she entertained people at Metia Bruz. That was where Nithercot found her and offered her special tips for private parties.
“What are you doing with him?” Mohini pushed the girl away, surprising Nithercot. “That is my client.”
“Back off Bitch, he called me here.” The girl smiled at Nithercot after hissing at Mohini, who did not move. She stood over the girl and yanked at her.
“You little whore, I taught you everything, and you are …” The girl let out a shriek, holding on to the saree draped over her bare body as Mohini tucked it her.
“Enough, I summoned her. I don’t want you anymore.” Nithercot rose from the cushion, drink in hand and grunted at Mohini as he pulled the girl back on his lap and nested in the highchair. “She will dance for me from now on. For my private entertainment.”
“But why Sa’ab? I am your personal entertainer. I am your Daasi. Why is the master angry with me?” Mohini spoke in Hindi. She sat down by his feet and started massaging them. Nithercot shoved her away with a kick.
“You went to that stupid Mehfil even when I told you not to.” Nithercot turned to the girl on his lap and held her by her neck. “Anyone who dares disobey me at work, I take their heads. What should we do with her?” The girl smiled uneasily at his chokehold.
“Adham Sa’ab invites me. Sa’ab?” Mohini frowned as she picked herself up. “ I am faithful to you, your true loyal servant…”
“Your words don’t match your actions. Stop the trash. Jones is a young blood, I get it. I do get it.” Nithercot pushed the girl away and unbuckled his belt. The girl gasped as Mohini looked at him, terrified.
“I never… Adham Sa’ab never touch your slave.”Mohini protested again.
“Really? You want to stay by my side, eh? Bitch.” Nithercot stood up, throwing the girl, who protested, on the floor as Mohini stepped back. Mohini stood her ground firmly as he whipped it in the air. The girl was shocked. The next few whips were on her body before Mohini was thrown out by his servants.
Adam Jones rushed out to the street to find Mohini bruised and struggling. She was trying to hail a carriage, but her tattered clothes, blood and bruises scared them away.
“Mahinee Baejee.” Jones summoned her as Mohini stepped back, alarmed. Jones stopped a few feet away from her, looking away guiltily.
“What do you want now?” She asked in her native tongue angrily. “Sa'ab no longer wants my services. Go protect him. That…”
“You are hurt.” Jones lifted his eyes slightly to meet her gaze. His blue eyes reminded Mohini of the autumn sky. Mohini inhaled.
“So you can see.” She taunted sarcastically. Jones could sense her displeasure.
“Come with me.” Jones insisted as he was about to put his hand on her shoulder, but stopped as Mohini moved back. “Please, I insist. I caused this.”
“He beat…” Mohini showed the visible marks on her, “... with a belt.” Mohini spat some blood and saliva on the road.
“You are bleeding. Please come with me if you need a doctor.” Mohini looked amused at Jones.
“Doctor? No doctor treats us, Sa’ab. Your world is different. Ours is filled with diseases and images they are scared of contaminating.” Mohini’s words were partly understood by Jones. He had stayed long enough in Bengal to understand the language now.
“I know someone who will see you. Please.” Jones hailed a carriage. Dare a brown-skinned Indian driver not stop if a white man hailed him? “We will go back to my place.” Jones insisted as Mohini struggled to mount the carriage and sit opposite Jones.
“I don’t think your Mem saheb will like that. Leave me at the station.” Mohini shook her head. “I will find my way.” By now she realised that she need not pretend to speak in broken English, for although Jones could not speak her tongue, he did understand it.
“I insist. Mrs Jones and the children are away on vacation. They are back home in Britain.” Mohini looked up at his words suspiciously as Jones could probably read her mind. He quickly added, “Even if she were home, she would welcome someone as hurt and bruised as you are.” Mohini sank back to the seat quietly. She remembered Sharat’s instructions. It was unsafe for her to stay at the Mission or near Kalyani till his plan was executed. Serving the Goras was safe for her now. Once she got the news of success, she could go back to the mission if she chose to. Mohini had come by intending to please and pester Nithercot into keeping her somewhere close to him, but Jones’s offer was unexpected. Either way, it was perfect for Mohini to hide in plain sight.
