The next few days, Aakash saw a visible glow, an inert happiness on Khushi's face. A skip in her steps and lesser mood swings. He had asked her casually, and she had shrugged it off every time. But only a blind fool would have missed the slight blush that crept up her face every time Arnav's name was mentioned. And when asked about it, a darker shade of pink on her cheeks and sometimes a death glare or two.
But this joy lasted for about three days, before she started getting a little impatient, for reasons known only to her.
---
Khushi felt the restlessness seeping into her, as the days passed. There had been no news of him, since the day he had left for India. Granted, it had been only three days, but still, he hadn't called the Cantonment once after reaching.
And her thoughts, that seemed to be revolving only around Arnav, weren't helping. Every night, she would replay the scenes, days before he had left, like those black and white films, only the uncensored version. She had tried, with approximately three hot water showers, and six mugs of coffee, every day, trying to get that warm, fuzzy feeling, that burning touch of his lips, off her mind, but she had failed miserably.
Time to call Aakash, she thought, walking towards the telephone.
---
He had reached India safely. After Aakash had called the India Headquarters, Arnav had called back the next morning, talking to Azaan.
Khushi was a little relaxed after she heard the news from Aakash. Days after, she and Aakash became engrossed in the proceedings of Payal's treatment. A few orthopaedic surgeons were consulted; the treatment fees were considered and reconsidered for over a week, before it finally began.
Amidst all this, a small riot had broken out in the village of Razibagh. Apparently, the people responsible for the chaos were a group of thugs, who made a living out of plundering villages, prostituting young girls and women, looting markets mercilessly. They were not even in the slightest, interested in the raging political conflict brewing up in the nation.
Azaan had summoned a team of a few men from the Cantonment and doctors, nurses from the Base Hospital. Ideally, it would have made sense for Aakash to head the team from the hospital, but Khushi knew better, or at least she thought she did.
'Aakash, you know these surgeons much better than I do, okay? So stay here, and let me go,' Khushi pleaded with him. Before he could answer back, she continued thoughtfully. 'Moreover, Payal needs you here. Don't abandon her this time. This is one chance you have, okay?' Aakash thought about the promise he had made to Payal, and considered for a moment what Khushi had said. But as much as he was in love, he couldn't stop logic from intervening. 'The bas***d's name is Sajjid. Every month, at least five women or so, are shoved into the dingy confines of his brothels. Those who resist are flogged on the streets first, only to be murdered later. Tell me how can I let you go now?' 'I know what I signed up for, when I set foot here, Aakash. I'm not backing out now. And I'm a big girl, okay? I can take care of myself.'
Khushi gave him one long, assuring hug, and walked off towards the waiting jeep, only to turn back, 'Take care of Payal.' 'I will, promise, and Khushi…be safe.'
---
As the jeep moved towards Razibagh, Khushi saw the sun slowly gliding downwards behind the mountains, giving way to a chrome yellow sky. Chakri, a type of Kashmiri folk music buzzed out of the old radio. Intones of the harmonium and the rubab fused into the mellow evening breeze.
Then as the village approached, the beautiful scenes, slowly gave way to the images of the wrecked homes, and tear-stained faces, that it had so meticulously hidden. The village was enveloped in an eerie silence.
Not the kind that calms you, but instead deafens your senses.
---
'What happened here exactly Aunty?' Khushi asked the trembling woman in front of her, as she cleaned one of the many gashes embossed on her back. She was trying to say something, but Khushi couldn't comprehend a single word. Perhaps it was the language, as they all seemed to converse only in the local Koshur. Or maybe plain fear. This was the ninth hut she had entered, all the women had been beaten ruthlessly, and some left half-dead. The gruesome sights and the heady smell of blood and rust only increased with each passing street. She almost wished once in a while, that it would actually have been a better idea, for Aakash to come there.
The soft tinkle of glass bangles broke into her chain of thoughts.
A little girl, a mere eleven year old, ran into the hut, and clutched the woman's arms tightly. 'Ma, they have come. They are going to take me this time, aren't they? I'm scared Ma. I don't want to leave you.' Khushi just sat shocked at the sight in front of her. The girl spoke broken English, her speech trembling with every passing second, as her mother whispered soothing words into the girl's auburn hair. Khushi turned to the girl. 'Who has come beta?' 'The..the men,' she whispered, burying her head onto her mother's lap. Khushi saw the woman say something to the girl, on which she looked up at her mother's face, nodding her head vehemently, her eyes bearing surprise, shock, and a glint of determination. Khushi got up and started moving towards the door, where muffled voices and footsteps could be heard. Before she reached the door, the girl came and hugged Khushi, as her mother spoke in raw, incoherent English.
'Save her…save my Noor.'
---
Khushi and the little girl, Noor, crouched behind a small table. The hut was pitch black, the only source of light being a small lantern that hung near the door. Noor started to say something, but Khushi muffled her words by covering her mouth by her sweaty palms, signalling her to not utter a word. They heard heavy footsteps; a few swear words, as the doors opened.
'Find the girl,' a gruff voice shouted out to the other men following him. A few minutes passed, frantic shouts, and a blood-curdling shriek followed. Noor's scream died on her lips as Khushi's palm pressed on harder. The next thing Khushi felt was a loud thud on her head as Noor's little body slipped away from her hands, and darkness enveloped her.
---
It was about six, next morning, when Arnav reached the Srinagar Railway Station. The harsh bellowing wind played with his hair as the jeep made its way towards the Base.
I'll just see her face once, then, go back to the Cantonment, Arnav thought to himself, their last meeting, her sweet taste, still fresh on his mind.
But it way too early, for the hospital to be open, and knocking at Khushi's house at seven in the morning, didn't seem like the best option. So he headed to the Army blocks first.
---
Aakash had dozed off on the chair, beside Payal's bed. A greyish glow had descended into the hospital, the sun giving the valley a miss that morning.
The telephone in the reception desk rang once. Twice.
Something buzzed in Aakash's ears, breaking into his thin streak of sleep. He finally dragged his feet towards the reception and picked up the dark green receiver.
Seconds later, all signs of tiredness, exhaustion or sleep vanished from his previously groggy face.
---
'Aakash, where are ---' Arnav saw him sitting behind the reception desk, an hour later, his head buried in his hands. 'What happened?' Aakash took a deep breath and contemplated the impact his next words would have on the man sitting in front of him.
'She is missing Bhai… Khushi, she is missing.'
Arnav gulped in large amounts of air, trying to decipher the exact meaning of the words he had just heard. It registered seconds later.
'Where is she?'
---
Darkness.
Pitch black darkness.
Then little flecks of grey came through.
The smell of nicotine.
A throbbing nerve.
A pounding head.
Her eyes opened, reluctantly.
Two women hovered above her head.
Cold drops of water fell on her face, a few entering her dry eyes.
'Where am I?'
---
Pushpa Impossible
CID
308