CHAPTER 5
The fresh wound…
His scream drowned into oblivion after a few seconds. The room was dark but a ray of light was penetrating into it through the door. He stared at it, trying to figure out what it was. His eyes became uncomfortable looking at that faint brightness. They weren't accustomed to light. He shut his eyes tightly, giving them relief from the torture. But as soon as he shut his eyes, the image of those sharp eyes loomed out. Those hazel brown eyes. The eyes which tortured him. The eyes which frightened him. The eyes which scared him.
'AAAH!'
'Cheeko! Jitna cheekna hai cheeko!' a voice rang in his ears.
'MAAA!'
'Tumhare maa is duniya mein nahi hai…usse pukar kar kya karoge? Yeh sab tumhe pehle sochna chahiye tha! Dood girane se pehle sochna chahiye tha! Ab maro!' the cold voice spat.
'AA…AH….AAAH! na…na..nahi…maa…maaalik..malik….'
'Mangal…aur zor karo!' and the servant immediately obliged, dipping the boy's hands further in the barrel of boiling milk. The little boy screamed, screamed his lungs out, he couldn't tolerate his hands being hurt. His little hands were burning in that boiling milk. 'AAAH!'
'Ab dubara aise galti karne se pehle do baar soch lena! Nalayak!' spat the cold voice and asked the servant to take him back to his room. Fresh tears of pain and agony rolled out of the boy's beautiful eyes as he looked at his burnt hands that were raw red. The pain was stinging him. But he couldn't utter a word lest he should face that again. He tightly bit his lips to stop himself from screaming as they neared his room. The servant pushed him into his room where he fell down with a dull thud on the dirt, before he heard the door being closed and the key being turned.
He slowly started blowing his hands to minimize the pain but nothing happened. He tried to touch the cold floor but touched something else that made him shriek in pain again. Sobbing in excruciating pain, he cuddled on the floor and went to sleep, calling for his mother.
He whimpered 'maa...,' he shivered. He hugged his legs and slept on the dirt covered floor, not being affected by the garbage. He failed to recognize the world he was living in. The darkness in which he was engulfed in, imprisoned in, chained in. This was his life that he had been living since long. Since the day his parents were murdered. But he was an infant not capable of understanding what had been transpired with his parents. He believed they just vanished. Like Poof! Poof! They were gone! Poof!
Poof! Poof! Poof!
Ah! Ah! Aah! Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!
The screams started ringing in his head. The last screams that he heard of his mother and father. The last time he saw them with his tiny little blue green eyes. The only fact he registered was red! His world was red. Completely red. Blood red. The only colour that stayed so fresh in his mind. The only hue that related to his parents. The only colour that made him feel that he was with his parents. He shut his brain again and went into deep sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mangal came to the room only to find it open. He panicked. What if the boy has escaped? Malik mujhe maar dalenge…he thought and slowly came inside the room, covering his nose with a towel. But his feeble attempts were unable to cut the stench out. He felt nauseated. He felt he would throw up. But controlling his sickness somehow, he looked around the room and spotted the boy. He sighed in relief and backed out of the room as fast as he could, banging the door in the process.
'Malik…'
'Umm…'
'Woh us ladke ki kamre ki tala toot gayi hai…'
'KAISE?'
Mangal shuddered at his master's voice. He slowly whispered 'pata nahi malik….kal raat theek tha…par ab…'
'Theek hai…theek karwado usse…'
'Theek karwane mein waqt lagega malik…purana taala hai…theek karnewala milna mushlik hai…tab tak kamra khula rahega…'
'Nahi…kamra khula nahi rehna chahiye…kuch aur intezaam kardo…koi naya tala lagado…'
'Bauji…what is taala?' quizzed Geet as she came into her father's bedroom.
Mohan made her sit on her lap and answered 'taala means lock darling…'
'What happened to the taala?'
'Nothing dear, a room's lock has been damaged. Mangal is going to get a repairer. He is just asking me what to do with the important things that I have kept there.'
'That's easy…shift whatever in there to another room…simple!' grinned Geet.
Mohan, albeit being an evil man his mind didn't work the right way, thought that was the best solution. He didn't even realize what his daughter was prompting at. 'Mangal…Geet sahi keh rahi hai…uss ladke ko koi aur kamre mein shift kardo.'
'Par malik…aap Geet memsaab ke saamne…'
'Geet hindi nahi jaanti…woh humari baat samajh nahi paayegi…' said Mohan and Geet pretended to be confused at their conversation. Mangal nodded, 'malik…usse kaunsi kamre mein shift karu?'
'koi bhi kamre mein shift kardo…'
'Ab toh ek hi kamra khaali hai malik…Geet memsaab ke kamre ke paas…baaki sab mein…' he trailed off. Mohan understood.
'Haan toh wahi shift kardo…Geet darling…we have some important stuff which we will be shifting to the room next to yours…do you want that room, dear?'
'Not at all bauji…you can use it…' smirked Geet.
'Mangal…wahi shift kardo…Geet you go to your room now. We have some important discussions…'
'Okay bauji…' and Geet ran away outside. She silently came to the other side of the room, near the window and hid to listen to their conversation.
'Maalik…agar woh chillayega to choti malkin ko pata chal jaayega…'
'Ek kaam karo…uss room ko sound proof banado taaki koi bhi awaaz Geet tak na pohunche…ek din mein kaam hojayega…tum uss bande ko phone karke bulalo… theek hai?'
'Theek hai malik…' said Mangal and went out of the room. Here, Geet whooped the air before running to her room, muttering 'Thank you JS! Love you!'
PRECAP:
No precap :P :P
************************************************************************************
PS: okay how was the update? The italics part is the flashback. Chintu is remembering a day in his dread filled life. That's the most recent one. That's why the chapter's name is the fresh wound. Give me honest replies guys.
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
Cricket
