The Lane

By Mini Ratish

Sarita had walked that lonely dark stretch of road for decades, sometimes with her mother but mostly alone. During the day, it was not as intimidating as it was at night. The two-minute-long lane ended at the rail tracks. She reached in time to watch the passenger train scuttle off at top speed. She waited until the train had passed to cross the rail track onto the road that led to her home a few minutes away. And waiting for her at the door of the house was her mother. Those old, dull eyes lit up at the sight of her daughter. The only old lantern in the brick house flickered in the dark, casting shadows on the walls. A covered mound lay in a huddle at the corner of the ground. Warmth surrounded her as she sat down to eat near the stove. The food though always cold, was chewable.

The occupants in the house slept with half an empty stomach, much like the routine. There was nothing to complain about as she made just enough to make ends meet. Sarita worked as a maid for a wealthy landlord and his family. After working late into the night, she walked 3 kilometer to reach home just before midnight. There were a handful of people on the main road, thus felt safe walking home that late, except for that lonely unlit lane that lay off the main road. There was a time when she used to fear walking through the path lined with bushes and trees on both sides. There were no houses on that stretch of road, which made business for miscreants easier. There were stories of molestations, theft, and murder regularly.

But today, as she stepped onto the lane, darkness engulfed her. Her feet halted abruptly at a movement ahead of her. Her eyes followed a tiny light that seemed to jump between the trees. Just then, a lone scream penetrated the night silence, followed by a loud thud and the sound of the hustle of leaves. With cautious steps, she moved towards the light that was now steady at a point.

Sheltering herself behind a tree, she peeked at the three figures wrestling on the ground. The light came from the tiny mobile held by one figure. As she adjusted her eyes to the light, understanding dawned on her about the situation. Two men were molesting a girl taking turns in doing so. Anger welled inside her, and she screamed at the men, but it went unheard. Although the victim struggled under her molester’s clutches, it began to weaken when they started to punch and kick her. They enjoyed her helplessness and pounced on her repeatedly as though she was game.

Sarita couldn’t watch anymore. She ran towards the tracks to seek help from any passerby. As it was close to midnight, no one was around. Numb with anger and helplessness, she didn’t know what to do next. She crossed the tracks and stepped on the road leading home in desperation. But, a glance over her shoulder stalled her feet. Across from where she stood, she could see that same light swiftly moving towards the tracks. The light steadied near the rail line. Again, Sarita hard-pressed her eyes to glimpse the scene before her. The two men had dragged the victim with them and dumped her on the tracks.

Their intention was clear- dump the girl on the track, and the train will do the remaining dirty work for them. Suddenly one of the men was on his knee insearch of something on the ground. The next instant, he stood up and sprinted back the way they came, carrying along the light with him, rendering the other man and the victim in darkness.

Sarita kept wondering why the other man departed. There came a sudden hustle from where the victim lay, followed by a man’s painful scream, which turned into moans and mumblings that died out slowly.

Sarita heard everything from where she stood, including the running footfalls, accompanied by the tiny light approaching the track. The man, alerted by the scream had returned to investigate. He stopped near the spot and held up the mobile to light up the area where he left his friend and the victim. But he only saw his friend lying on the ground very still, and the victim had vanished. He bent down and tried to shake his friend awake.

In his panic, he did not hear the shadow that crept up behind him. The shadow held a metal in its raised hand, and the next moment it struck down the metal on the back of the kneeling man. Before a shocked whisper escaped Sarita’s lips, the man fell to the ground with a painful shriek. The shadow knelt beside the man and brought down the metal repeatedly on the man until he no longer moved, but the fingers did not loosen their hold on the metal.

Somewhere a dog let out a moaning cry. Maybe it felt like the eerie silence was too much to bear. Still rooted beyond the tracks, Sarita’s eyes stayed on the shadow that clutched onto the metal embedded in the man’s body. The shadow, it seemed, was trying to root out the metal from the man’s body but remained unsuccessful. A woeful, angry shriek came out of the shadow at the failure. The figure now raised itself on its staggering feet and began to walk one step at a time.

It was then Sarita noticed the clothes on the moving figure. A long skirt covered the lower body. Sarita realized that it was the victim the men had molested. She had taken her revenge and killed perpetrators. A long hoot brought Sarita out of the shock to her senses. The train whistled its arrival. Sarita leaped to her feet and ran towards the girl, who kept walking in a trance on the track towards the approaching train.

As Sarita ran, she called out to the girl trying to distract her attention, but her voice did not reach the girl. Another whistle grabbed Sarita’s attention towards the train, its headlights glowering several meters ahead. The tracks had lit up and started to hum the rhythm of the approaching beast. Even the girl felt it, and she stopped beside Sarita. She lifted her disheveled head and looked at the approaching train. Her eyes were full of tears, and for a fleeting moment, there was shock in her eyes, then resignment replaced it.

There was no shock in Sarita’s eyes, only despair and helplessness that she had to watch another innocent life run down without mercy. The bright light and the warning hoot of the train failed to move the girl from the tracks. Then there was only darkness as the train sped past Sarita leaving a trail of a fading wailing hum of death. There was nothing of the girl for Sarita to see. She felt empty inside, like death, but certainly no remorse at the failed opportunity to save the girl.

Sarita moved away from the track and sought the way to her home. Today she was late, but no troubled eyes waited for her return. The door to her house remained shut. She sat down on the small rope cot beside the door. The cold did not bother her now neither did the dark silent night, but it was the face of the girl that she couldn’t shake off. At least the girl had killed her molesters and brought justice for herself, but at the same time, she had punished herself by committing suicide.

Was the victim herself at fault for what happened to her, or was she afraid of what might happen to her after the ordeal and returned home? Yes, there was fear. Every girl would have it in her traumatized heart. Even Sarita thought of the shame it would have brought her parents had she been alive today.

But Sarita had not killed herself. One night, two drunken hooligans attacked her in the lane, took advantage of her, and left her unconscious on the track to die. With her death, justice seeped away from her poor parent’s hand. Now poverty and shame lived with them as the life of an outcast. She did not understand why the world meated out inhumane treatment of the victim and their families.

Her soul roamed the lane every day seeking justice, but instead, she confronted many such incidents as today. It was an unbreakable cycle of pain, anguish, fear, and hope. She didn’t know when this cycle would break and her soul would rest in peace.

The day was breaking, and grey streaks appeared on the skyline. The door behind her opened, and an old lady stepped out. She walked towards the cot, picked it up, laid it against the wall. She then began to broom the courtyard.

By Mini Ratish