Nishta

‘I make my best mistakes when I am trying to be myself. You, my darling, are number one. All my life, I have been so many things, the person someone wanted me to be, the person I thought I wanted to be, the person I planned to be.  With you, I was just me.’
-Letter from Nishta to Shaurya

Crash and Burn

A to Z: Bindiya

Read Part 1: Akash

I have always been the observer in this class. I am not exactly quiet or anything but I have always felt like an older soul than the rest of my counterparts. I like to see what lies beneath the surface and it amuses me. Today is the first day of school and already there is tension, pushes and pulls in various relationships. I stop with analyzing though. I do not speak nor advice as I think it is not my place.

Zara walked into the room, shoulders thrown back. She dumped her bag in the seat in front of me and surveyed the classroom.I knew her, but not personally, just by reputation.She was one of the most popular kids in school and not in the traditional way. She was the public face, so to say, our own Public Relations Officer. She made all the speeches, held all the offices, was the teacher's and principal's favorite. Everyone saw her as a studious, serious person. But I had always seen something beyond that in her eyes. A need to break out of her image. To be herself which must have been something different.  I saw that more now. This might be an interesting year, our last year of school.

Her eyes had stopped on Akash, the new guy. That is how all of us will always remember him. Leaning over his desk, hair falling over his eyes, he was gazing out of the window. Then I saw an earthquake waiting to happen. Nina thumped her on the back shaking her out of her reverie. "Hi, How were your hols?"she shrieked. "Did you know the name of that pretty girl who introduced herself to Farida? I hope she wants to be friends with me." There she went again with one of her crushes. I looked for Zara's reaction, she must know that she would have to pick up all the pieces again. She did not betray any reaction, " No I missed the assembly, my bus was late." she said.

Then Nina pointed, "I know who that is, that's Akash by the window. The new transfer student from England. Isn't he hot?" she rattled on, unmindful of Zara's wince. Zara furiously shushed her," Stop being embarrassing,"and flounced out in the direction of the water cooler. Akash had been observing this furious discussion between Nina and Zara and got up to go out after a whispered conference with Sam. I saw Nina move her bag in the seat in front of mine. There she went again, I am sure Zara would be annoyed but wouldn't say anything.

I picked up my book and began to read hoping to get in a few minutes of relaxation before the Terror's class. Ten minutes later, I heard a "Hmph" from Nina and looked up to see Akash and Zara half running, half dragging each other into the class, doubling over with laughter. Now I was definitely predicting a higher intensity earthquake.

Zara turned to me and smiled and put out her hand," Hi, I'm Zara. You are Bindiya, right? This is Nina. That's Akash." This was met by a sweeping glance at me from Nina and a smile from Akash. I stifled a laugh. I was definitely going to like getting to know Zara. Nina, not so much. I had known her in kindergarten and she was not someone I wanted to be friends with. They turned back to their desks to sort out their seating arrangements. Nina plonked herself under the fan and though Zara wrinkled her nose a bit, she did not say anything. This was starting to look like something of a pattern.

Museum of Little Ladies- 6

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3 

Part 4 

Part 5 

My reluctant face and repeated misgivings did nothing to deter Paige's mother, nanny or Nadia. I went through the process with a sinking heart and the able assistance of Thomas. Thomas pulled faces, brought out props and did everything he could to put Paige at ease. Despite the great shots I got, I had a good mind to close down the studio and run away from this escalating nightmare. I worried about it so much that by the end of it, I had a tension headache. Thomas insisted I make my way home," I'll take care of the prints and Nadia will close up today." 

Lisa and I sat across from each other, over a very awkward silence. It had been a long and exhausting 3 months for her. Repeated interrogations, allegations and suspects, all leading to nothing. We sat with the album between us. We had been over the sequence of events. some 3 times now. Anne had gone to the park with her baby sitter. She had been playing on the swing set and had requested a snack since she was hungry. The baby sitter had gone to the car, having forgotten the snack bag, this being a regular occurrence with her and come back to find Anne gone. This all pointed to a planned abduction. Someone must have been following her around for a while, hoping on the off chance that something/ someone would be careless. I got a better idea of the location and a refresh of Anne's schedule from Lisa.

After a late evening snack, I sat down at my computer and opened up some files. My window display of Anne's photos and all the photographs in my portfolio and finally her schedule. I scanned through the photographs, especially those I took of her in the playground and adjacent to the swing set. I had used them in my montage for the window. Suddenly, I saw it, a shadow in the far right corner, a jacket and a shock of dark hair was all I could see when I zoomed in. Like all good portraits, the background was not really capable of being sharpened beyond a point. I called two people. My friend Sandra who uses photographs for forensic research and the second Jimmy, after I observed the shots of all the other girls which I used for my window displays. They all had a presence in the background and it was time to figure out who.

Museum of Little Ladies- Part 5

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

I had to do something. The inaction was killing me, all my window displays ran through my head like a continuously playing commercial interspersed with the pamphlets I had found fluttering in the air  days later. Before Nadia's incredulous gaze, I took down my window display and gave her strict instructions to put up no window displays for the next few days. Great! Now even my co-worker thought I was crazy. "I am leaving now and I am going to be gone all afternoon. Do not book any appointments for tomorrow. I need some time off. I don't care if it is the holiday season. I need a break and I am going to take it." Nadia's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as I effectively took care of all her arguments and swept through the door like a typhoon.

"What are you doing? If my eyes do not deceive me, you are trying to help on the case?" Jimmy dragged a chair out and slumped down into it. I jerked upright, shocked out of my skin. I tried to slam the book closed but he was too quick for me. He made a grab for it. It was my latest album, Britta's. It was almost like a baby book, filled with all her activities and her hobbies and her favorite toys. This was my second year of photographing her, but the first time I put up a window display. I had had an emotional morning. I first got out my telephone book and set up appointments with all the parents of the children who went missing. Some were downright furious to hear from me and others were too upset to talk. But the first of them all, Anne's mother,Lisa had agreed to meet me for lunch. I had spent the rest of the afternoon poring over all my old records and albums. I had found one thing- but I didn't even know if it was a lead- but every kidnapping was spaced almost equally- about 2-3 days after the window display. But, I needed to talk to Lisa, to see if I could find some commonalities, any information about what they noticed before Anne's abduction.

"Share."Jimmy said, narrowing his eyes at me. "You have something." I shook my head and picked up my books. "Just looking for window display ideas." I flung back as I walked out of the coffee shop. I remembered distinctly forbidding the booking of any new appointments, which is why I was taken aback to see the long sleek expensive looking car in front of my offices. I stormed in and before I could say anything, Nadia dragged me into the supply cupboard."You can't refuse. It's John Louis Watts III's daughter. They had a cancellation at that posh studio up in Brixton. They are willing to triple your hourly rate. Please say yes!"

Spaghetti Marinara with Chickpea Sweet Potato Balls

These Chickpea and Sweet Potato Balls were actually meant to go into sandwiches as burgers. But the first time round I didn't freeze them enough and made a huge burger out of them which threatened to disintegrate all the time I was trying to fry it. It had to be topped off with melted cheese and sauce to make it stay together. So I decided to fix it with a binding agent- mashed rice and top it off with bread crumbs. The Marinara sauce was an experiment I made earlier this week. This was my first attempt at a homemade pasta sauce. The only other time is when I tried to create my own mushrooms in white sauce dish in the first month that I started cooking. Anyone with the least experience in cooking can tell you that a homemade pasta sauce is definitely not level 1 cooking. So you can imagine that the only reason that mock alfredo sauce tasted good was because of all the cream I put in.

Marinara Sauce is one of those 3-4 ingredient recipes which are a quick fix and a much healthier option to store bought sauces. I flicked this recipe out of the New York Times cooking section and modified it. One piece of warning however is that Indian Tomatoes do not work as well as you want them to in this recipe because they are much more sour than their international counterparts. A good idea maybe to replace them with cherry tomatoes or attempt a re-calibration of the taste with a little sugar or ketchup.  The chickpea and sweet potato balls are my own concoction based on some taste memories of aloo tikkis.

Also spaghetti marinara is not a very traditional combination. The marinara sauce freezes well and can be typically used over pizzas and possibly smaller pastas. In fact after I made this sauce, I tasted it for the first time over fusilli pasta. But bolognese is something I cannot make, so I guess this was my way of making Spaghetti Bolognese with meatballs.

On my Kitchen counter:

Spaghetti

For the marinara sauce:

3 medium sized tomatoes

4-5 garlic cloves

Olive oil- 3 tbsp

Salt

Oregano

Chilli Flakes

Mixed seasoning (Italian)-optional

Ketchup- 2 tsp or Sugar 2 tsp

For the sweet potato balls:

2 sweet potato tubers

Handful of chickpeas

Chaat masala

Salt

Red chilly powder

Garam masala powder

Breadcrumbs

Cooked rice

Vegetable oil to shallow fry

Boil the chickpeas and sweet potatoes each for 13-15 minutes until soft and well done.

Mash together and add salt, add the chaat masala, red chilly powder and garam masala powder.

Add the cooked rice and bring together to a moulding consistency. 

Roll it in breadcrumbs and shallow fry over medium heat in vegetable oil.

Keep turning them so they cook evenly.

Can freeze left overs as burger raw material or as pre-made patties/bullets.

Spaghetti must be placed in a pot of boiling salted water with a few drops of oil.

Cook for 10-12 minutes. 

Drain and shock with cold water.

Mash together the tomatoes with a little water. Keep them slightly whole to ensure a good texture.

Chop up the garlic cloves.

In a pan, heat up the olive oil.

Saute the garlic cloves until they turn slightly brown.

Add the tomatoes and the juice.

Also add the oregano,salt, chilli flakes and the mixed seasoning now.

If you are going to add sugar, do that as well now. But I lean towards the sweetness of ketchup.

Let the water evaporate and the sauce start to thicken.

When the oil and the sauce start to turn red, add the ketchup.

Keep stirring to prevent burning and the sauce will continue to thicken.

Once the sauce comes together and the tomatoes are cooked through and turned a bright red, take off the heat.

Once cooled, the leftover sauce can be placed in the freezer for future use.

Museum of Little Ladies-4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

I went into the developing room and got a head start on my latest wedding album and the rest of my day was filled with sittings. I did not even get a moment to breathe, the holiday seasons were always the busiest. My window setting was already done. It was a Christmas tree with ornaments made from my photographs of Britta, a blonde 6 year old. The window was definitely one of my better ideas looking at the amount of business it was driving.

Two days later,walking through the grocery store, I stopped in my tracks in shock. My brain had just clicked into place and the pieces had fallen together.The milk carton with the missing girl's photo was the last connection I needed to make. It was Britta. This had happened every other time is what I had figured out. My window displays and the kidnappings were too close to each other for comfort. They could not possibly be a coincidence. But how and why were the questions I still hadn't solved for.

These thoughts kept buzzing about my mind as I entered the studio that day. I waved away Nadia's coffee offer, did not acknowledge Thomas and left them to deal with some dark haired customer who had just entered. I wanted to go to Jim with my theory, but what would I tell him, there is a connection between my studio and the kidnappings, but it has nothing to do with me? I would be implicating Nadia and Thomas as well without solid evidence or reason. This was of course assuming that he believed me and did not laugh me to the end of Pade County.

Museum of Little Ladies-3

Read Part 1 Here 

Read Part 2 Here 

Thomas walked into the room and flung himself into the chair in front of me. He opened up his portfolio to display pages and pages of black and white prints. I knew then I had found my to be partner-in-crime. His photography slide aside, even his overall attitude matched mine, talk about building the brand image. It would also ensure he would not jump onto some other employer too soon after I hired him. I offered him the job on the spot and he did not even negotiate on the monetary details.

A month later, the windchimes rattled away merrily as I walked into my studio. The chill in the air was rising and all around was snow covered and magical. A somber reminder however persisted on the posts covered with holly and other Christmas cheer. Now covered in plastic wrap, two photographs fluttered in the wind, both of brown haired angels I had photographed. This time, the girl had gone missing from the swing set in the park. As I had walked past them today, something had begun to disturb my mind. Like there was  a connection I was missing. I tried to shake myself of the feeling.

Of late, with Thomas in the studio, I had started wedding photography too. Jim had run into me at his partner's daughter's wedding. If I wasn't very sure of him being completely invested in the investigation and therefore haranguing me, I would have suspected him of chatting me up. He had repeatedly asked me hundreds of convoluted questions until I accused him of impeding my work and he accused me back of impeding his investigation and David, his partner had to break us up. But he had definitely planted a seed of doubt in my head. Maybe I did know something, something which connected these children. Giggles broke into my reverie, Thomas and Nadia got on like a house on fire. The only time when I had ever seen Thomas smile was when he was deep in conversation with Nadia and even then unconsciously.

Museum of Little Ladies- Part 2

Read Part 1 Here

I walked into the cool confines of my dark room, I bent my head over the latest prints I had to work on.  It was time to work on my window display for the week. I liked to use this time, before Nadia, my secretary came in to get my thoughts together. I was sure that it was only my window ideas which kept me from going bankrupt. This week's collection of vintage frames with my latest portraits of Cecilia could not fail to be to hit with the local audience.

The wind-chimes rang out as the door opened and I stepped out to find Nadia unwrapping herself like a giant Christmas present. The cold weather in Gorgon was getting to her Californian roots and freezing her up like an ice cube. Sometimes, I suspected that the only reason that she came to work with me was thanks to her outsider origins. She sympathized with me and it was wonderful that she could also do the books and my appointment planning and even wield my back up camera when required. She was the closest to a friend I had in this town where I had grown up and lived for 15 years of my life.

"Clara! Good morning! Sorry, I overslept, this weather- I can never get used to. Have you been holing up in your dark room once again? Today is our interview for the assistant photographer job. Do you have all your questions ready?" She fired off one question after the other like a quick loading cannon. "Yes, I am ready. I am going into the kitchen for some coffee. Can you send him into the back room when he arrives? Did you say 10?" As she nodded her assent stuffing a croissant into her mouth, I walked into the kitchen to brew my special coffee.

The windchimes chimed again, as I moved into the backroom. A gust of cold wind hit my face as the door swung open and then it looked like some ancient God of Ice and Snow had walked in.

Museum of Little Ladies- Part 1

I walked along Walnut St. and my eyes were caught on the rising spiral of handbills. Some volunteer must have left them on the street corner and they had been set into flight by a sudden gust of wind. The same face stared back at me from the innumerable posters plastered on the walls of houses and lampposts lining the street.
She was a brunette, just like the rest of them. Similar black shiny eyes with that childish innocence beaming out of them. The photo was one I recognized. It was from my portrait sitting. I had taken it myself, her mother brought her in the day after her 8th birthday. Dressed in egg shell white, she looked like an angel in the pictures.
'A pity' exclaimed the sheriff's aide, Jim. He had walked up behind me while I stood staring at the poster. ' The mother let her in the yard alone for 15 min and this happens. We don't have a single clue. I don't know what to tell her parents anymore. There is no hope anymore. She's been gone for over a month now.'
I nodded gently, not knowing how to react to his confidences. It was rare that our paths crossed. I mostly kept to myself and my studio. As I took a few steps forward, he spoke again, 'Clara, do you know anything at all about these kidnappings? So many of these children and their parents have been in and out of your studio. Do you have any clues that could help me get to the bottom of this? Is there anything you would like to tell me?'
I spun around, outraged. In a steady but firm voice, ' Jim, do you really think I have something to do with all of this?' Figures, ever since I moved back and started my studio, everyone seems to be treating me like I was a little crazy.  Turning a deaf ear to his stuttered entreaties, I stalked off purposefully. I had become the resident witch of Pade County and I wasn't enjoying that at all. My eccentricities were all forgiven when the time came for their children's portraits. So in the interest of my business, I forgave them too.

Mysorepak- Not bad for a Sweet Novice

 

When you don't feel like doing anything and are bored of your work, it is best to distract yourself with something that you do not typically do. I do some of my best creative work when I am irritated and at the end of my tether. It is worrying and good at the same time- worrying because it makes me concerned about my  mental make up and good because I at least know how I can shake myself out of a funk quickly and without annoying too many people around me.

So yesterday was one of those days, where everything seemed tasteless and boring. With Diwali around the corner, I decided that the best way to cheer myself up was with some sweet making. This is only the third time ever that I have attempted making any sort of sweet. My first trial was kaju katli with ground cashew paste, it was an unqualified disaster with half cooked cashew paste and oodles of ghee, resembling some sort of halwa. It was a lesson well learnt though and I tried again with powdered cashew, I ended up with very good looking katlis though I chose to slice them super thin (Almost like cracker thin).

Mysorepak was on the cards yesterday owing to readily available ingredients. I made a very small quantity as I only wanted to cheer myself up not worsen my mood with all the slaving over the hot stove. But it came out surprisingly well, causing even a sweet skeptic like me to go back for more.

What you need on your kitchen counter:

Makes 10-12 pieces

1. Besan (Gram) Flour- 1/4 cup

2. Ghee- 1/2 cup

3. Sugar- 1/2 cup

How to make mysorepak ( Takes a lot less effort than you think, especially if you choose to be lazy like me and make very very little):

1. Line a tray/plate with foil. I used a pie tin for this. We will use this to pour and set the mixture.

2. In a heavy bottomed pan, place the sugar and just enough water to submerge the sugar. Place on low heat and allow to come to a steady boil.

3. On the side, start melting the half cup of ghee. Once melted place on low heat, so you can ladle the hot ghee into your mysorepak.

4. Sift the besan flour to avoid lumps and fry it for a couple of minutes with a couple of tsp of ghee.

5. Once the sugar has dissolved and starts to thicken into syrup, test the syrup between your fingers. You should wait for the syrup to form a string between your fingers (an unbroken string- this is the single strand consistency).

6. Once the sugar syrup reaches this consistency, add the besan flour to the syrup, stirring continuously and breaking up any lumps that might occur.

7. After the besan is completely dissolved in the syrup, start ladling in the ghee little by little, continuously stirring the ghee into the mixture. All this must be done at a low flame and do not stop stirring at any point.

8. Finally once the ghee has all been added, the mixture will start to come away from the sides of the pan, it will still be soft but will start to sort of bubble and have air pockets within.

9. Take it off the heat and pour into the prepared pan.

10. Allow it to cool for a couple of minutes and then slice into it with smooth strokes to avoid breaking up the pieces.

It was therapeutic to write this down considering I am trying to sound like a Mysorepak Maven, the very first time I made it. :P

Try to keep and consume until Diwali, else you could always make another batch if you decide to give in to temptation.

Of Reading and Book Shopping

I finally made a trip to my old haunt, Blossoms after a long long time and stocked up on some books. Not as many as I generally buy. I come home usually laden with two bagfuls of books. This time I exercised plenty of restraint and ended up with just 5 books- Flappers and Philosophers, Bring Up the Bodies, The Ladies Paradise, The Girl on the Train and The Invention of Wings.

I am done with reading The Girl on the Train and The Invention of Wings. In fact I went through Girl on the Train in a single night, rattling through it like a high speed train myself. The book is very reminiscent of Gone Girl. I ran through that book as well in a single flight and I definitely liked the book better than the movie.  So coming back to Girl on the Train, interestingly this book has had its movie rights bought as well. It definitely has excellent potential for a great screenplay. Bordering on the obsessive, it traverses the thin line between imagination and reality. It's almost like the 4:50 to Paddington in the sense that a fleeting glance from a train window leads to unraveling a  tangled and complicated mystery. No relationship is straightforward nor goes in the direction you expect. All the characters and naturally and quite annoyingly human and fallible. There are no heroes or heroines, just people dealing with their lives in their own twisted fashions.

The Invention of Wings is an inspiration. I loved this book even more than her previous book, the Secret Life of Bees. I have to thank Hollywood because the movie brought me to Sue Monk Kidd. The Invention of Wings is a moving part fic- part bio story of the Grimke sisters and their struggle for racial equality. The story has a very St. Assisi feel to it, two poor little rich girls rising above their feelings, their familial attachments and personal dilemmas to get on to a global stage in the face of rising criticism and overwhelming opposition. It's written in a he said she said style, one of my favourites and it grips you with the unique ideas and the revolutionary thought processes of these women for the times they lived in.

A to Z Challenge: Undercover

Links to Previous Parts:
Rising
Soliloquy
Trip

Riya stepped into the cool air conditioned cafe after finding a secure parking space for her car. A million questions were buzzing through her mind. Why had he diverted her so close to their destination. Why had he insisted on coming into this cafe? What was he trying to do? Was he some kind of detective? She walked upto the table that he had acquired for them. He held out a menu to her and said "Order." "I'll just have a black coffee please", Riya said bending over the menu wondering if she could afford lunch at this place. She did go out on weekends, but she tried to keep away from the fancier spots.

"Smile," he demanded. "Really", she hissed in an undertone. " Now you will issue orders to me?" "Well it's not funny business. Isn't that what you asked me for? This is important. It's a matter of life and death." "Then tell me what it's about? Maybe I can help." "But it 's a confidential matter. Something I am investigating as a matter of fact. You cannot help me. Nobody can." "Just try me." "No, this is where we will wait. Until I can think of what I must do next."

He stepped away to go to the washroom, she assumed. She opened her purse and drew out her phone. There were three missed calls. She dialed hoping to get the conversation over with before he came back. She should tell them that this was interfering with her day job. She couldn't afford it anymore. They would have to do better on her payments if they wanted her to continue. But she found herself at the end of a 5 minute phone call, the recipient of a photograph and a contract the result of not being able to say no.

A to Z Challenge: Trip

Links to Previous Parts:
Rising
Soliloquy

Riya drove slowly past the new Starbucks that had opened on the Link Road. "Does this work?" she said, slightly tilting her head towards the back of the car. He gave an almost imperceptible nod of the head. She drew up alongside the kerb and pressed the End Trip button. Her wallet refreshed and she unlocked his door to allow him to disembark. 

"You are coming with me," he exclaimed. " What about my trips? I have to make my required number," Riya retorted angrily. " How about I pay you for the whole day?" He shot back. " What's the catch?" She said narrowing her eyes at him. This wasn't the first time she had had to fend off the unwanted attentions of a customer. But he did not seem to be that sort of chap.

"There is no catch," he sighed. " If you want, we can get this cup of coffee. Then you can drive me around all you want! There is somewhere I have to be. That is also somewhere I don't want to be. I am willing to make it worth your while." "Ok, I will try it for an hour, but I am warning you .. No funny business."

A to Z Challenge: Soliloquy

Rising

A man got into her cab at the airport. Riya was already disgruntled, this guy didn't bother stowing his suitcase in the open trunk. She has had to get out of her idling car and set it to rights, all the while hoping that the airport cop did not give her a ticket. She opened the separating door with more than  usual force and asked the customer in a clipped tone, "Where would you like to go today?" Nick jerked out of his reverie as if slapped and said, "Powai". "Why do I get all the weird ones?", thought Riya to herself as she banged the opening shut again." In my cab and life, both."

Nick was trying to call her. She wasn't picking up. But then she never did pick up when he dialed her at this time. He hadn't asked her what she was up to.  He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. What he did not know could not hurt him.  But with every inch that he was getting closer to discovering the truth. Why was he doing this to himself? Trying to surprise her, startle her almost into a confession, by landing up at her door unannounced. This wasn't how he envisioned it all coming to an end.

"Let's not go to Powai", he boomed suddenly. "Stop at the next coffee shop you see." Riya started. She wondered what was with him. She felt like she was suddenly stuck in a parallel universe where she was in a spy movie or something. She stole a glance carefully in the rear view mirror. He was still stuck deep in thought, his eyebrows were furrowed and he was frowning at his phone. She did not where this day was taking her and she wasn't sure she liked it very much.

A to Z Challenge: Rising

A loud noise on the television woke her up. She had fallen asleep on the plastic chairs she was resting on with her feet up. It was almost morning- what poets wax eloquent about- the magical hour before dawn, when the blue of the sky is a brilliant blue, when the yellow of the sun soothes before burning. For Riya, it wasn't very magical. It meant she had woken up way too early before the start of the day. She rubbed her eyes trying to rid them of any residual sleep. This was beginning to happen way too often for her liking.

She walked into the tiny balcony which extended out from her living room. There wasn't enough space even to swing a cat in. That phrase had always fascinated her. Why would anyone want to swing a cat in a room. It was sure something to think about. Her room mates would be up soon. Before the flat was filled with the bustling noise of thumping footsteps, she savored the last quiet few moments of solitude. It was impossible to be alone in Mumbai. Wherever you went, you felt like you were being carried along by a sea of humans.

Her morning tasks done, she headed down 15 floors to start her work day. If walking in Mumbai was being carried along by a sea of humans, driving was like following a trail of ants walking in a line. It was exhausting and mind numbing to say the least. There used to be a time when she had enjoyed driving in Mumbai. Now it was just part of the job. She swung the cab door open and stepped in. Switching on the Uber app on her phone, she accepted the first ride of the day and drove into the packed road.

A to Z Challenge: Questions

Hanged

Insomnia
Jaded

Keeper
Labour

Mystery
News
Ominous
Punishment

Rini sank onto the pillared courtyard of the village school. Her movements had woken up Aryan who now joined her. One look at her ashen face was enough to tell him that she had found out something unpleasant. He made her sit down and recount what happened. His first reaction the next morning was to limit her interaction with the villages. He took up the maximum of the field work she had to do. He had watched her enough number of times now to do the heavy lifting. He hoped to reduce the chances of anyone recognizing her.

The second thing Aryan did was book them onto an earlier flight. He wanted to get her out of the village and away as soon as possible. Three days of very very hard work on Aryan's part, a million anxious calls from her mother and a lot of irritation from her side, she found herself on the dusty road to the nearest railway station. They paid off their driver and headed to the burning hot platform for their interminable wait for their sloth like passenger train.

Aryan headed off in the pursuit of sweet milky tea and Rini collapsed, wilting in the sun, on the nearest bench, Suddenly, a huge platoon of people dismounted from a local train. It seemed to be the entourage of a politician. She craned her neck to get a better view of the main guy so to speak. A shiver passed through her. This was the same face that flashed before her every single day in her nightmares.

A to Z Challenge: Punishment

Links to previous parts:

Hanged

Insomnia
Jaded

Keeper
Labour

Mystery
News
Ominous

Things came to a head one day when Sunita woke up from an evening nap to a scratching at her door. She had been trying to power nap before starting another shift at the village clinic. Ranjan was visiting one of the nearby villages and she was alone at home. She cautiously inched her way to the back door and opened it a crack. She knelt down and pulled the terrified Radha into her arms. The child wasn't crying or making a single sound. She was in shock and deeply traumatized by something she had seen. Sunita could hear a loud commotion in the distance. Some instinct made her want to hide Radha. Her gut was telling her Radha was not safe. She concealed the child in a closet covering her with a bunch of blankets. 

She stepped outside to see what was going on after securely locking her main and back doors. There seemed to be fighting and violence of some sort in the distance. Looking closely, she found that it was issuing from Tara's home. She quickened her steps to see a large crowd gathered there. There seemed to be two large mobs fighting outside the house. The village had gathered to watch the madness. Were these the warring families that Tara had told her about? She elbowed her way into the house and no one stopped her. She was not prepared for the sight that met her. Tara lay lifeless in her living room. She had been murdered. She inched back out and escaping the notice of the mobs, she slipped away. She did not know what to do. She should inform the police, find Dhruv. What was she to do? Ranjan wasn't around to help either.

Ranjan came home to find his wife huddled in a corner of the house. All the lights were switched off and Radha lay asleep in her arms. She had been crying. "Tara is dead. They killed her. I tried to find Dhruv.  They.. they.. the tree.. that tree.. behind the village lake.. They made it the hanging tree. They were trying to find Radha. I tried to hide her. We need to leave." It took him a long time to get a coherent story out of her. When he did, he acted quickly. There were three of them on the flight back to New York and that is when Radha became Rini.

A to Z Challenge: Ominous

Links to previous parts:

Hanged

Insomnia
Jaded

Keeper
Labour

Mystery
News

"Mom, I haven't spoken to anyone here yet. Don't worry. We just got here. But you can't leave me hanging like this, I need to know." Rini muttered as she paced up and down in the corridor of the village school which was their makeshift shelter for the night. She was trying to be as quiet as possible as Aryan slumbered at the end of it, chivalrously having given up the whole interior to her. " I really wish I didn't have to tell you this over the phone. But I guess, you will not listen to me until I explain my reasons. So you know you are adopted. But there is a story behind your adoption which your father and I had decided to protect you from. Now it is time to tell this story."

23 years ago, Ranjan and his wife Sunita had been volunteer doctors in Anjeer village. They had come down for a tour of service from America where they had met and gotten married. In this remote village, with minimum medical facilities, they were welcome with open arms by the community. They brought with them what seemed like salvation to this tiny village. They took shifts at the temporary clinic that they had set up and it was at this clinic that they met Dhruv and Tara. Dhruv was the school teacher in the small village school. He and Tara had brought their four year old Radha to Sunita. Sunita was thrilled to meet Tara and Radha. It was love at first sight for her with little Radha. Tara and Radha could be seen trailing behind Sunita on many of her innumerable house visits. They took long walks in the surrounding forests and hills and went exploring. The families spent a lot of time visiting each other and practically living in each other's houses.

On one of these visits, Sunita noticed that Tara always seemed on the verge of blurting out some sort of secret. Finally the day came when she finally spilled the beans. "Dhruv and I ran away from home to get married. There is a huge blood feud between our families. We met in college and wanted to marry each other. But our families wouldn't agree. So we eloped. We are still not sure that they aren't looking for us. It has been 6 years. The day they find us, they will try to kill us. That's the reason why we chose to live here. So nobody can find us. We are hiding right under their noses." Sunita shrugged off Tara's worries. It all sounded too Montague and Capulet to happen in real life. Surely, Tara was exaggerating.

A to Z Challenge: News

Links to previous parts:

Hanged

Insomnia
Jaded

Keeper
Labour

Mystery

Rini woke up to see Aryan bending over her with a concerned look on his face. She was on an unfamiliar rope hammock in a small mud hut. An old lady held out a glass of water. She struggled up manfully and tried to fight the intense sense of deja vu overpowering her. It could not be happening. The tree, the village behind it, the muddy mountain, she had never seen pictures of Anjeer village.  It was such a remote hamlet that not many documents of anthropology were created on it. Every detail from her dream seemed to have come to life.

Sensitive to her feelings, Aryan did not press her for details. But she did not want him to think of her as a wilting daisy, so she explained that night by the side of their campfire. He asked her if she had been to Anjeer village before. She vaguely knew in the back of her mind that she had left India with her parents when she was 3 or 4 when they had adopted her. She didn't know if she had been to this village. She decided to stay up that night to call her mother and talk to her.

" Mom," she said when all the endearments and the small talk was out of the way. " Do you know if I have ever been to Anjeer village? It' s a new addition to our itinerary and for some reason it looks very very familiar." The line went silent at the other end, so silent that she repeated her question wondering if her mother had heard. After an ominous pause, her mother replied. " I didn't think you would remember, but now that you are there I need to tell ypu some things. But first things first, your life will be in danger if you reveal too much about yourself. I think you should get out of there as soon as possible."