Chapter 1

InkedImagination

@Queen0fDarkness

Chapter 1 - The Dark Night

5 years ago

“I’m on my way home, mama” Meera reassured her mother as she locked up the café after finishing her shift. She had picked up part time shifts between her studies needing to save for university determined to make something of her life.

“I hope you’ve brought me the cupcake” Geet, a young 16-year- old excited for her sister’s return home called out.

“Yes, yes meri jaan. I have it” Meera said with a chuckle clutching the cupcake box in her hand. “I’m on my way, mama so I will see you in maybe 15 minutes” she said.

“Okay beta. We’re waiting”.

“Hurry, di because I’m hungry and mama doesn’t want to eat dinner without you being here” Geet yelled in the background.

“Yeh ladki” Rano muttered and cut the call.

Meera smiled dropping her phone into her handbag and started her walk home. She thought of the money she had saved so far, calculating how much she could put away towards her savings when she gets paid in 2 weeks and feeling a flutter of excitement. She had almost saved up for the first year of university and there will be some extra funds put aside for any emergencies.

She smiled brightly as she walked through the familiar streets towards her home. The night sky had darkened and there was a slight drizzle, but she didn’t mind the cold or the light rain. She looked forward to her mother’s cooking. It was the best in the world, there was nothing like her mother’s warm aloo paratha and warm, spicy sabzi. Her mouth was watering as she thought about dinner and picked up her pace eager to get home.

She looked on either side of the crossing before she stepped forward. She whipped her head hearing a screeching sound and before she could see, the car slammed into her with a sickening thud. Pain assaulted her body as she fell hard with the fierce impact, the cupcake box clenched and cake smeared her palms, her cheek pressed against the cold road, blood trailed across the road. A groan escaped her lips, her breaths became thready, and she choked as blood pooled out of her mouth before she succumbed to her injuries.

Maan’s heart thudded violently, and his mind spun at the horrific realisation of what had just happened. He stumbled out of the car and slowly walked towards the body lying on the ground. He barely registered his friends climbing out of the car and rambling. He could only stare at the lifeless woman lying on the floor, her face was soaked with blood. Tears stung his eyes.

“What… I’m so sorry” he said, his voice trembled. He reached out to check whether she was still breathing and hoped she was still alive, his fingers trembled as his fingers hovered above her. Before he could check, another car arrived with a screeching sound.

“Maan!” Raj Khurana arrived swiftly having gotten a call from Maan’s friend. His face was a mask of icy composure, he glanced around the scene briefly, the deceased girl, the blood, the shattered windshield and his eyes drifted towards his son. He grabbed his arm before he could touch Meera and pulled him back. “Get in the car, Maan” he said firmly.

“But… Dad, I…” Maan stammered, his body shaking and tears cascading down his cheeks.

“Get in, now” he ordered and dragged him away.

“Now, Maan” Veena, his mother snapped out sharply. Her cold eyes assessed the scene, and she gestured to the car with a warning in her eyes.

Maan glanced over his shoulder for one more time at Meera’s lifeless body, her image seared itself into his memory, a haunting reminder of the cost of his recklessness. He climbed into the car followed by his mother and the driver sped away. He closed his eyes and cried silently.

Raj Khurana told his friends to go home and wait for his call. He then dialled his dedicated team of lawyers. Within the next half hour, in the dark of the night, Meera was driven to the hospital to be declared dead, his team arrived whisking away the damaged vehicle, the shards of glass swept, and the blood-stained pavement washed and he had called the chief of police to make this all go away quietly.

“Geet, stop eating the pickles” Rano called out wiping her hands on her apron once she had finished setting the table for dinner. She scowled seeing her youngest daughter sneaking spoonful of mango achaar. “You’re going to ruin your appetite” she snapped.

“Well, mama di is taking forever! Wish she could hurry up” she muttered placing the spoon into the sink and trudged over and settled at the dining table. “I’m starving” she groaned.

“Beta, patience” Mohinder said with a laugh and dropped a kiss to his daughter’s forehead and joined them by the table. As the minutes ticked by, Rano and Mohinder looked at each other feeling uneasy. This wasn’t like their daughter, it’s been almost close to an hour since they’d spoken.

“I’m just going to call her and see where she is” Rano said as she picked up her phone. “She might be waiting for the rain to stop or something” she mumbled and dialled Meera’s number. And her heart felt relieved when she heard the familiar knock and she smiled.

“This girl, I wonder what took her so long” she muttered and walked to open the door.

Her world stopped seeing the two police officers with grim faces.

“Mrs Handa?”

“Yes?” she frowned looking utterly confused and glanced behind them. Was Meera in trouble?

“Who is it, Rano?” Mohinder appeared behind his wife and he also looked shocked and confused. Geet peeked around and waited to hear what was going on.

The officer hesitated for a moment before he managed to speak. “There was an accident this evening, Ma’am. Your daughter Meera was hit by a car on her way home tonight”.

Their world tilted on its axis.

“What… What do you mean? She’s on her way home. She just called me… You’ve got the wrong girl”.

“We’re deeply sorry, Ma’am” he said apologetically. “We’ll need to come in and identify her body”.

“No… no, there must be some mistake. She’s coming home. She has my Geet’s cupcake!” she cried out shaking her head unwilling to believe this. “Mohinder, tell them!” she turned around to her husband clutching his shirt. “Tell them our daughter is coming home!”.

“Mama…” Geet cried and stepped forward. “What are they saying?”

Rano collapsed onto the floor, Mohinder tried to hold her steady, but he was a broken man himself. He crouched down with his wife, tears streaming down their faces. Geet rushed to their side shaking them.

“Di said she’s coming home, papa!” she yelled angrily and broke down clinging to her parents.

The days that followed were a blur of grief. The once lively home was now silent and suffocating with the loss of one of their dearly beloved. Meera’s body was brought home for the final rites. Sorrow consumed them, Rano barely spoke. Mohinder tried keeping a hold of his family but failed as he himself was breaking away. Geet sat in Meera’s bedroom clutching her pillow and hugging it close to her unable to move away from the spot. She stared into the space as she recollected the memories she had with her sister.

Meera sat with her textbooks spread out around her while Geet was sprawled beside her flipping through her magazine humming away.

“Geet” Meera muttered without looking away from the pages. “Do you have to hum that ridiculous song over and over. It is driving me insane!” she said with mock seriousness.

Geet grinned. “Di, it’s so catchy. Aaj ki raat maza husn ka. Aankhon se leejiye. Aaj ki raat maza husn ka. Aankhon se leejiye”

“Stree should have kidnapped you” Meera said with a sigh. “If you sing that one more time, you’re going to be trying to solve this algebraic equation!” she pointed out.

“Eww no. Who uses Algebra anyway?” she countered. “Maths and algebra is your thing, di not mine. You’re the cute nerd and I am the creative artist” she added.

“Creative artist, huh?”

Geet nodded with a sheepish grin.

“How about you draw me something while I try to finish my work?”

“Okay” she said gladly and grabbed her sketchbook. Meera smiled watching her sister settle in comfortably and concentrate. The room filled with pen and pencils scratching against paper as both sisters worked on their respective work.

Meera leaned over to take a peek after a while and asked, “What are you drawing anyway?”

“It’s a surprise di” Geet answered shielding her paper with her arm. “No peeking. Work on your maths problem” she gestured.

“It better not be embarrassing! Mama frames everything and I have to look at the silly picture of me with a moustache!” she reminded.

“That is art, di. You wouldn’t understand my vision”.

“Vision my foot” Meera responded. “Creative artist” she muttered. “More like crazy artist”.

“I can hear you” Geet tossed a cushion in her direction.

“You were meant to” Meera responded with a laugh.

“Ta da!” Geet announced proudly after a while holding out her sketch for Meera.

She took the sketchbook and smiled brightly. It was a drawing of them both, sitting on the swings outside in their garden. The sketch was a rough drawing, but the details were magnificent. Geet didn’t forget a detail, the book on Meera’s lap while Geet held an icecream.

“You drew the ice cream on my mouth as well” Meera said with a laugh.

“It isn’t my fault, you couldn’t eat it properly”.

“Geet, you smeared it and couldn’t feed me properly” she responded with a chuckle and admired the sketch. “You are so talented Geet” she said softly. “This is beautiful and one I don’t mind mama framing”.

Geet grinned feeling her heart swell with pride with the praise. “I wanted to draw our memories so we can always look back at these and laugh”.

“That was such a fun day, right?”

“Remember the rain and we both slipped in the mud?”

Meera laughed. “Oh yes! Mama shouted at us for staining her tiled floors. Ugh, I love you so much, Geet” she pulled her into her arms. “You are the best little sister one could ask for, you know?”

“And you’re the best big sister anyone could ask for. Even if you’re a nerd”.

“Geet”

“Di…”

They both erupted with laughter and hugged each other tightly.

At Meera’s funeral, Geet stood by her parents, her hands clutching the hem of her kurta. She watched as people whispered condolences, their words empty and meaningless. The injustice burned in her heart when she overheard whispers about the Khuranas.

“Such a shame… but what can the Handas do against a family so powerful?”

“They’ll never get justice. That’s the way the world works”.