Blue dots were flashing again, against a background of black. Or maybe the dots were black and the background blue. Either way, she hated them. She hated that they made her head pound. She hated that even when her eyes were shut, the dots continued to blink beneath her lids.
Her neck hurt too, but it was becoming easier to breathe again. All Madhu had to do now was to wait for the dots to disappear.
They faded eventually, and once she focused on the ceiling, the lone bulb stopped swinging like a pendulum. A muted whimper reminded Madhu of Champa, and in spite of her current predicament, she felt the knots in her chest loosen and a chuckle escape her.
All I wanted was some time off from work.
Spots on the sides of her throat stung when she tried to move her head, stretching the crescent cuts Vishal's nails had left on her skin. Her smile dropped at the sight of Champa's injury.
Madhu half crawled, half dragged herself to clasp her bony hand. The two women sat next to each other, holding on to each other, trying to recover from what had happened.
"It's not just about that goat is it?"
"It was never about that goat," Champa said, her voice cracking. "It was always about the carelessness and selfishness of Kamal's father."
"Did he get himself on the wrong side of the Brigesh babu?"
Tears rolled down her face, the moisture getting lost in the dried blood of her gash. Madhu felt Champa squeeze her fingers, yet another silent gesture of her misery. Now that she thought about it, Madhu had never seen her being expressive about her woes, not in a way she would consider normal. It was always a quiet step back, or a meek avoidance of her gaze.
Back in Delhi she was surrounded by people trying to get the best possible treatment for themselves. From hiring expensive lawyers to filing indignant complaints against her staff of housekeepers, they knew their rights. Here in Bhabra, justice was simply too expensive.
"He just needed thirty thousand. That was enough to go to the city, to find a job and pay them back. But he stopped sending money after six months," replied Champa after a while, sounding less shaky. "It's been seven years since I've seen him, don't even remember what he looks like. And since then the only thing I've been married to is his debt."
Thirty thousand? Madhu had spent ten times that amount on the chandelier in the lobby of Jasm Inn, she had spent even more on a pretty-faced actor to come and entertain her guests at its opening gala. The duty of giving back to the society was fulfilled by signing large cheques to random charities every month. And yet this woman next to her had been tormented over such an insignificant amount for over half a decade, tortured to pay for the sins of her husband who didn't think twice before abandoning her.
Madhulika had been raised equal to the men in her life. But today, temporarily stripped off the immediate security of her deep pockets, she had experienced a taste of the horrors that came tied to her fragile gender. What then, would Champa go through every day? Knowing that her freedom depended on the men in her life allowing her to be equal? Which they didn't, and thus she wasn't free. The laws were as meaningless as her marriage.
Sitting beside each other, yet remaining miles apart.
"What was the deal?"
"What do you think?"
"Don't take the case back," Madhu implored, having joined the dots. "I'll pay him, I--"
"For me to only be in your debt instead of his?" She shook her head. "No, I just need to pay my dues and save enough to move away from here. Kamal knows how to fix punctures; he could learn more and we'll be better off in the city."
Madhu's instinctive response would've been to assure her that she would not demand the money back. But now wasn't the time, given that she was recovering from immediate trauma and her cut needed tending to.
Having composed themselves, they eventually made their journey back to Madhu's house, navigating through muddy roads and avoiding potholes.
With each step Madhu could feel the weight of her wet clothes. In a strange way she was grateful that she had an excuse to hold Champa's hand, taking as much strength from her companion as she was trying to lend. How exactly could Champa still walk straight, she didn't know.
Dawn was less than four hours away. Was it just that afternoon that she'd been sculpting with Nakul? It couldn't be. Months had passed by since then. Years even.
Dread twisted in her gut at the thought of Nakul. Was he still in the forest? Or did he return home only to find her gone? What if he went looking for her and ran into Vishal and his goons? What if--
"The fuck have you been?"
He was there, in front of her, torch in one hand and umbrella in another. Still in the same clothes, though they were wet and muddy like hers. He would've said something more but seeing that Champa looked like she could collapse any second, merely turned around and started walking back with them, his flashlight showing the house to be only a few yards away.
They reached home five minutes later, and Kamal rushed to his mother as soon as she stepped over the threshold, half-hugging, half-sobbing against her bony shoulders. Leaving Madhu's hand, she hugged him back while the former stood awkwardly beside the reuniting family. Nakul excused himself, mumbling something about first aid.
Her injuries were tended to and after a mini argument with Madhu about her taking a proper room instead of sleeping in the veranda, Champa and Kamal finally retired to the guest room.
Returning to her own, Madhu peeled out of her wet clothes and pulled on a fresh pair of cotton salwar-kurta. Going out to the courtyard to chuck her laundry in the wash basket beneath the handpump, she caught a glimpse of a tall outline disappearing behind a door on the opposite side of the corridor.
After a minute's hesitation, she followed Nakul, going up the stairs which were on the other side of the door and led to the terrace.
Like the house, the roof was structured as two concentric rectangles. A brick railing outlined the smaller one which opened into the courtyard below while the outer one was fenced by wrought iron and was currently adorned with blue fairy lights to mark the festive season.
Nakul was leaning over the fence, facing the flooded fallow field which, if not for the occasional sal tree, could almost be mistaken for a lake. She drew up beside him with her back pressing against the rail and looked at him. "Cigarettes after sex huh?"
She knew he heard her, since he hadn't removed his device, hadn't even changed out of his muddy clothes. He replied a second after exhaling. "Cigarette after coming home from an hour-long search for a woman, only to find out that my woman went ahead on a suicide mission."
"It wasn't a suicide mission, I went to see Sunanda, tell her of what her husband had done." She took in the way half his face was shadowed while the other half glowed blue from the lights as he brought the cigarette to his mouth for another drag, making sure to avoid blowing its smoke in her face. For some reason, she had a sudden urge to pick up her long-abandoned sketchbook again.
"You knowingly went to his house? Alone?"
"I had to find her."
"I was already doing that."
"Yeah? And how did that go? Did you get to show off your awesome combat skills? She wasn't hiding behind a tree, was she? She was taken by the same men who have attacked her in the past as well, taking Sunanda's help was the most logical first step."
"Logical, not safe," he snapped, voice shaking. It was then that Madhu realised just how on edge he was. His shoulders were tense as he threw the cigarette butt on the ground, stepping on it before turning to face her fully. "Do you have any idea what it was like? To return home and realise you had disappeared in a village that is unknown to you? In a situation with no street lights and with pot holes all around you, where, in the best case scenario, you would've fallen down a ditch and in the worst case, smuggled in the dark like goddamn cattle that goes missing every day, with no one to hear your cries? They almost got you once and that was when they didn't even know who you were. What do you think would've happened if they had found you outside their house?"
He moved closer with every word and she soon found herself caged between the railing and him, the gravity of his fears dawning upon her for the first time since she had gained consciousness in Vishal's dingy granary. "Those were exactly my thoughts when you were out alone too. I just wanted to help, and I guess sitting in the kitchen didn't feel like the best way to do that." Taking his hand, she continued, "I got lucky, yes, but hey, today, the best-case scenario was that both Champa and I are safe and not in a ditch."
"Yeah about that." He took a step back, brows furrowed. "What happened exactly?"
"Sunanda guessed that they might be in that granary they rent out to people and she was right." Madhu told him everything, or almost everything, leaving out the whole choking part. "Then he left with Sunanda. Nakul, I think he...I don't know, it was just odd how subservient Sunanda acts around him, and he basically molested his own wife in front of all of us. I tried to stop them but he--"
--almost strangled me to death.
"Well he didn't stop. And then they just left, leaving me and Champa alone and--"
"How did you get these then?" Nakul interrupted quietly; eyes zeroed on the marks at the side of her neck as he traced them with his knuckles. "Thought I didn't see them?"
"Leave it, please, I'm okay now and he was drunk."
He didn't seem very happy about that proposition, but he chose to drop it for the time being. "Let's get you to bed then, it's been a long day."
Her lips turned into a sly smile.
Nakul cleared his throat. "To sleep, that's all I meant, not to..."
Her smile turned wider at his flustered state.
"Oh shut up."
Unable to help herself, she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek, still smiling like an idiot when he gazed at her, earth brown eyes soft and affectionate, before pulling him to the stairs.
Nakul changed back into his nightclothes and for one insane moment Madhu thought of returning back to her room, for Champa's sake more than anyone else's, but the idea of being alone was unbearable and she soon found herself in his room, being held by him.
It was impossible to go to sleep, her mind was still racing from all that had happened that day, when something hit her and she tapped Nakul's arm around her waist to gain his attention, turning around and meeting his sleepy eyes which gave her a questioning look.
"You said...on the roof...that I'm your woman?"
A small smirk appeared on his face. "I did."
"Did you mean it?"
He shifted a bit, pulling her more snugly against himself and making a wave of heat rush down her body. "Would you like to be?"
"Sure. Provided it's mutual though."
Those words earned her one his rare smiles, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and regard her endearingly, that warmed her insides and blanked her brain so that she was incapable of doing anything but imitate him with her own silly grin. "Yes, I'll be your woman too, don't worry."
A laugh escaped her. She tilted her head to capture his lips, kissing him softly, delicately, hoping to convey all that she couldn't quite put into words and getting a feeling that he was trying to do the same. She felt his fingers in her hair, brush against her face, tracing down her spine, then back in her hair.
Madhu nuzzled his throat when they broke apart, sighing contentedly as he pressed a kiss against her forehead, whispering a quiet, "Good night."
It had been a long night--one of the worst she'd ever lived through--but right then she was far, far away from the rest of the world. She was with Nakul.
Safe.