UNTITLED

Chapter 10

Ridhwan was knocked down by one of the East India Company officers. The end of the rifle hit him straight in the jaw, then at his neck. He became unconscious and dropped his rifle. Blood oozed out from his head as he fell to the ground like dead meat. He lay there on the ground like many of his comrades.

The British officer then abruptly sat over his chest, making any movement impossible. Then with his rifle he continued to give fatal blows. Ridhwan extended his right hand more than he could, he thought and somehow reached the end of his trouser's pocket and pulled out a knife and jabbed it straight into the officer's back. The officer cried out and leaned a little back. Then Ridhwan jabbed at his chest. The officer lost his control and fell back to the ground. Then Ridhwan sat over his chest and gave straight blows at the officer's chest. Then his arms stopped in an impulse and gave a closer look at the fallen officer. He was an Indian. The face seemed familiar. Ridhwan ran his left palm across his face to wipe the blood off. Then he went into shock and sat there like a statue over the officer's body. Then he fell beside the body and closed his eyes. He went into oblivion.

"I'm sorry Shlok. I'm sorry" his lips mumbled. "Shlok. Sorry. I killed y...Shl..."

When Ridhwan opened his eyes again, his head felt heavy and his eyes pained. He grabbed his head and hoped for some miracle to relieve him of the pain in his head.

Ridhwan saw a white man, piercing a knife tied to the end of his rifle, into the chests of the fallen Japanese army soldiers to check if they were alive. A hundred dead bodies were piled up. There were bullets going off. A thousand cries were roaring in the warm blood smelling air. The sky was black. The ground set to flames. The heat of the flames made the pain from the open wounds unbearable. A hundred footsteps could be heard of heavy leather and wooden East India Company shoes. There was laughter. There were cries. There was joy. There was pain.

His fingers set to work. His heart drummed faster. His throat dried. He gulped his fear. Sweat ran down his thin neck.

He pulled Shlok by his legs into the bushes. He then removed his uniform and wore the uniform Shlok was wearing. Then he took his uniform, gathered them together in his arms and carefully laid them over Shlok's body. Then he shook his head and helped himself to get Shlok's body into his uniform. He looked over to Shlok, who was lying naked, motionless and still. A tear formed and he fell at once. His knees began shaking and his feet seemed too heavy to move.

He walked, his shoulders stooping low, his head lying dead, his ears erect, his eyes watching every swift movement.

"Stop" someone shouted from behind.

He stopped at once after noticing there were hundreds of British soldiers around. Running would make it obvious. But why fear? We wear the same uniform. And there are other Indians too.

He stood like a statue. His head moved a little to the right as the intruder caught his sight.

"You dropped this" the British officer held in his hand a white envelope.

Ridhwan looked at the envelope, gulped and said "Of course. Thank you." He clasped it swiftly and shoved it into his pocket. He then held out his hand.

"Thanks" The two hands clenched.

Ridhwan paced again.

"Stop" the man said again. "Wait"

"What's your name?"

Ridhwan faked a smile. "Ridhwan" and paced again.

"Wait"

"What's that?" he pointed to his chest.

"There was this old uniform bearer's initials inked in black" Ridhwan said biting his thumb nail.

"Oh..." "Okay...I thought so...You are right...They are initials and they are R.P. I wrote them. Stands for you are caught."

The British officer turned abruptly.

"Traitor...Catch...Traito...Catch...Tr." Ridhwan clenched his mouth. Then with his knife he cut his neck and watched him bleed.

He watched men approaching him.

He thought of running. But there were many. He could be easily caught.

"What happened" one shouted from distance.

He didn't see? They didn't see.

"Help" Ridhwan shouted. He hid his knife back into his pocket.

"Help... Man down. He is injured. Careful." Ridhwan handed over the white man to the various hands.

"Ca..." the white man's lips mumbled.

"Cat..."

"Catch...Catch him."

"Traitor"

A dozen eyes watched in the direction a blood dripping finger pointed, into plain black starry sky.