The Deadly Conch (26 page)

Raka beckoned to a couple of villagers. “Mangu, Hari, go and find him, now,” he said. “Bring him back. He will be severely punished for his part in this scheme.” The villagers loped off immediately.

“I have one last question, Layla,” said Tara. “I know the answer, but I still want to hear it from you. Why did you set fire to my hut? You hated
me
, not my family, so why did you take Suraj away from me?”

Layla stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “I would love to take credit for it, but it wasn't me.”

Tara dug her fingers into Layla's windpipe. Layla gasped and choked but she still managed to croak. “Not me.”

“Don't you dare lie to me,” said Tara. Anger gave her strength and she squeezed harder. “Admit it. You killed my brother!”

Layla's eyes bulged with terror and she gasped. “Not. Me.”

“Let her go,” said a voice that was as familiar to her as her heartbeat.

“I did it,” he said.

— twenty-seven —
Revelations and Regrets

T
ara's hands dropped to her sides. She turned around very slowly and faced Ananth.

His face was a mask of stone. “I am the culprit.”

“Why?” whispered Tara. “
Why
?” She was shivering so violently that it was difficult to speak. She sank to the ground, not taking her eyes off Ananth, wishing Lord Yama had taken her away before she had asked this question. “Did Layla force you to do this?”

Ananth looked away once again and now Tara understood why he hadn't been able to meet her eyes. It was
his
guilt, not hers, which made him avoid her.

Layla shrieked with laughter. “I wish I could say this was my plan, but it wasn't. Your brother did this by himself. Bravo, Ananth!”

“Not by himself,” said another voice Tara knew well. “He was following instructions.”

She closed her eyes and held her aching head in her hands. So this was the surprise Kali and Zarku had been laughing about. But it could not be real. She was having a nightmare and when she awoke, she would be in her bed and everything would be all right.

“I told him to do this,” said Raka in a shaky voice. “It was the Panchayat's decision and we were wrong.”

The last vestiges of respect for Morni, and its Panchayat, evaporated. Tara had known Raka all her life and yet, she realized, she did not know him at all. He had been the pillar of strength for the people of Morni.
For
her
. Only now she saw how many cracks had appeared in that pillar. It was crumbling.

“You
asked
Ananth to set fire to our home?” said Tara. “Why?”

Raka took a deep breath. “The Panchayat was under a lot of pressure from the villagers,” he said. “They believed that if you and your family were gone from Morni it would rid us of all the bad luck we were having. You've been too close to Zarku and we all believed that you brought his evil home to us. With you gone, the drought would be over. Peace and prosperity would return to Morni.”

Tara gulped. Her throat was so tight, she could barely speak. “You listened to them? I saved you all from Zarku and you thought
I
was bad luck for the village?”

Raka did not say a word, but the answer was on his face.

“And you decided to get rid of us while my father and grandfather were away? You chose to attack us in the middle of the night, Raka?” She couldn't address him with the respectful “ji” ever again.

“As I said, I was under a lot of pressure,” said Raka. “The villagers …”

Tara got to her feet and gazed at the villagers who looked anywhere but at her.

“Why did you choose my brother for the job, Raka?” said Tara. “And how could you agree, Ananth?”

“Because the Panchayat threatened to go through the Sati ceremony for my mother if I didn't do as I was told,” said Ananth. “They said she was adding to the bad fortune of the villagers. I couldn't bear to lose her. I'm so very sorry, Tara. No one was happier than I that you escaped.”

“You would go to such lengths to keep the villagers happy?” Tara said to Raka. “And let me guess, you chose Ananth for the job because there was something you could use to threaten him with, and so that I would never suspect him even if I did catch him loitering near our hut. That's why the
investigation
has not come up with anything, right?”

“I'm sorry, Tara,” said Ananth. He looked as if he was about to cry. “You have no idea how much this has been eating me up inside.”

“Because of what you did, our brother is dead!” shrieked Tara. She looked around at the villagers. “All of you are responsible for his death!”

Ananth's face was the colour of thin milk as he stared at Tara.

Yama put his hand on her shoulder. “Tara, I'm so very sorry.”

Ananth stepped forward. “Tara, I'll do anything to make it up to you, I'll —”

“You've done quite enough,” said Tara. She stepped forward and grasped Ananth's right hand. He stared at her, his eyes wide. “What …?”

Tara ripped the thin thread she had tied to his wrist ages ago, a symbol of the eternal bond between brother and sister, and threw it away. “A
real
brother would never have done what you did.”

Ananth's stricken expression did not give her any satisfaction or relief.

“That wasn't the only thing, was it Ananth?” said Tara. “Something else compelled you to do this.”

Ananth's voice broke. “I was jealous of you — of all the fame you've been getting. You always end up doing things on your own and surviving. It was a moment of madness when I agreed, Tara. Please forgive me. I was so very wrong.”

Tara shook her head. These revelations weighed on her so heavily that for a moment she could think of nothing but the enormous betrayal by the very people she had loved and trusted.

“You won't have to be jealous of me ever again,” said Tara. “I won't be staying long. Lord Yama is here to take me with him. It was one of the conditions of visiting the Underworld.”

“What do you mean?” asked Raka. The other members of the Panchayat had gathered round him too.

“Tara sacrificed her life so that she could rid Morni of the real evil,” replied Lord Yama. “But you cowards don't deserve this.”

The shameful expressions on the villagers' faces should have given her joy, relief. But Tara felt empty. Layla had destroyed everything she had ever valued in her life. Suddenly she realized that Layla had slipped away yet again. “Layla's gone. Find her, don't let her get away!”

The crowd was galvanized into action. Everyone scattered. Tara was about to follow them. If Layla escaped, all this would have been in vain.

“Tara, it is time for us to go,” said Lord Yama. “The villagers now know the truth and they'll deal with Layla.”

Tara stared at him aghast. “My Lord, I need just a few more minutes. I want to have the satisfaction of doing what I set out to do — kill her. Please don't deny me that.”

“Things do not work to your time, Tara. I have many other things that need my attention. We have spent far too long here.”

Tara was about to plead once more when an agonized wail filled the air. It came from near the huts just beyond the clearing. Then there was silence. Tara pushed through the people who were already racing in the direction of the scream. Had Layla attacked someone else? Her mother? Almost faint with anxiety, she sprinted toward the scream.

She reached the shadows and found Layla. But she wasn't alone.

— twenty-eight —
Forgiveness

S
omeone brought a lantern that illuminated a scene Tara could never have imagined.

Gayatri stared calmly at the gathering crowd. The spotless white saree she normally wore was splotched with red. And Layla lay at her feet, the hilt of a kitchen knife protruding from her chest.

“What happened, Gayatri-ma?” said Tara in a trembling voice.

“You've carried this burden all by yourself for far too long,” said Gayatri.

Tara walked up to them and dropped to her knees next to Layla, unable to believe that it had finally happened. Layla stared up at her with sightless eyes. Blood still oozed from the wound on her chest, the deep stain spreading on her kurta.

Tara waited for that feeling of elation to lift her up, a bubble of joy to grow within her, relief to flood her. The only thing that she felt was a deep sadness for the dead child in front of her. Dead because of a misguided attempt at revenge by Layla's own mother. And Tara had been driven by the same desire: to avenge Suraj's death. She had always thought revenge would taste sweet, but it was not so. The bitter taste in her mouth was unbearable.

“Why?” asked Tara. She looked up at Gayatri, who was wiping her blood-stained hands on her saree. She looked serene.

“Why what, Tara?”

“Why did you do this? It was my job. That's why I came back.”

“I know,” said Gayatri. “I know more than you think I do.”

The rest of the village, along with the Panchayat, arrived and gathered around them. Raka pushed his way to the front and stood beside them. “Oh my God, Gayatri,” he said when he saw Layla. “What have you done?”

Both Tara and Gayatri ignored him.

“Know what, Gayatri-ma?” asked Tara. She looked closely at the smooth countenance that had always been tranquil, and a source of strength for her. Even now, there was not a flicker of fear on that face. How could the son of one so strong, turn out to be so weak?

“I know why you came back, Tara,” said Gayatri. “I also know what my son foolishly agreed to do, to save me. He told me after the deed was done and that is why I was determined to keep you safe with me. If you can find it in your heart to forgive Ananth, I will be very grateful.”

Tara glanced at Ananth, who had been standing there staring at his mother. He seemed to be in shock. She looked at Raka, who hadn't uttered a word. This would probably be the last straw for him. How would he and the villagers react to a widow killing a child even if it was Layla? Would they use this as an excuse to throw her out?

“I wish you hadn't, Gayatri-ma,” said Tara. She was angry at herself for letting Layla slip away. And at the villagers for being so blind.

The familiar clip-clop of hooves broke the silence and Lord Yama rode up to them. “It is time to go.”

Tara felt as if her feet had turned to lead. The realization that she would never see her family again crushed her. She hugged herself, trying hard not to sob in front of all the villagers. She wanted to beg Lord Yama for one more day, one more
hour,
so she could say goodbye to her mother. See Suraj's face one more time. But she knew it was futile. No matter how much time she had with them, it would never be enough. It was best to go now.

Tara sighed. “I'm ready,” she said in unison with Gayatri.

‘What are you talking about?” said Tara. She looked from Lord Yama to Gayatri, who had stepped forward.

“I'm the one going with Lord Yama,” said Gayatri. “Not you, Tara. You still have a life to live.”

“No!” yelled Ananth. “You can't leave me, Mother, I'll be an orphan.”

Gayatri held out her arms and Ananth threw himself at her. “Listen to me,” she said after a moment. “You have to let me go. I'll be a lot happier because I'll be with your father at last.”

“I cannot let you do that, Gayatri-ma,” said Tara. “Lord Yama, I was the one who came to the Underworld, I was the one who should have killed Layla. You can't take someone else in my stead.”

“But you didn't, Tara. I killed Layla,” said Gayatri. She stepped up to Lord Yama. “Lord, you know that taking me would be a kinder, wiser thing to do. For all of us.”

Lord Yama looked at Gayatri, at Tara, then at the rest of the villagers. “These two members of Morni are the most hated, and are better than all of you put together,” he said. He was quiet for a long moment. “All right, Gayatri. I will take you instead of Tara.”

“No!” said Tara. “She did this for me. You said that once I came to the Underworld, I could not return to the land of the living.”

“Tara, I make the rules, and I also have the power to make exceptions,” said Yama. “You did not kill Layla, Gayatri did, so really, you have not completed what you set out to do.”

Tara flung herself into Gayatri's arms. “Your son did so much to keep you alive and now you're going to leave him, leave me?”

“Tara, it's also because of his foolishness that I must go. This is to make up for what he did to you and your family. Will you please forgive Ananth, for my sake?”

Tara stepped back. “I don't know if I can.”

Ananth hugged his mother tight, his face streaming with tears.

“You'll be fine, Ananth. Just remember everything I have ever taught you. No good comes from harming anyone, even if it is for a good cause.”

Lord Yama turned the bull toward the forest. “Stay well, Tara. I hope that I never have to meet you again in your lifetime. Suraj's soul is already safe with me, but I will send someone for Layla.” The bull started to move away and Gayatri followed.

Everyone watched her and Yama fade away into the dawn mist. Tara stood, listening to the sound of the hooves, until at last, it too died away.

Tara looked at the very dead Layla at her feet. Soon mother and daughter would be together in the Underworld and she couldn't help but feel a little relieved that she wouldn't have to face their wrath. Tiredness pressed down on her with a giant fist, grinding her into the earth.

“You were willing to sacrifice your life for Morni,” said Raka, “and we misjudged you. We let our beliefs and superstitions cloud our common sense. Can you ever forgive us, forgive me, Tara?”

“Me, too, Tara,” said Ananth, very softly. “Please?”

Tara stared at all of them for a long moment. She really did not want to, but what would she achieve by carrying the hatred around in her heart? It would poison the rest of her life. Was it possible they could change?