RECAP
Dipta is away one night when Ila keeps hearing a man’s screams. She is sure it is Dipta screaming but he’s away at Rangpur. Once the wretched night is over, she decides to go to Rangpur to find out about Dipta. She can’t find him or any news of him but runs into the men in uniform. She is raped.
CHAPTER 21
Dipta was running as only someone running to save his life can; unthinkingly, unseeingly, untiringly. The tea bushes were bruising him but he didn’t have time to let the pain that he felt bother him. He knew Ganesh was running a few steps behind him and that their pursuers were firing at them. It was Ganesh who had earlier helped him escape but his captors had been quick to notice his absence and were fast catching up on them. Any of the bullets being fired could be the one destined for him but he ran on. Another bullet. Suddenly he could no longer hear Ganesh’s footsteps following him. For a nanosecond his steps faltered and he almost turned back to look but he knew it was already too late. The cool air rushed against his wet face as he kept running through the tea bushes in the dark. Life had suddenly become nothing more than the continuous movement of his feet lightly brushing against the earth and he felt so light that it was almost as if he flew. Suddenly, incongruously, he remembered the Alfred Noyes poem that he had learnt in school about the Highwayman who was shot down like a dog on the highway while his love, Bess the innkeeper’s daughter waited for him. He could see her; the red-lipped, buxom woman with dark curls, who was waiting for him while they held a gun at her chest. In a vague kind of a way, he wondered why it was Bess waiting for him and not Ila. He wondered how Ila would come to know about his death. He was so far away from home.
They did drop Ila to Mangaon as promised, rather dumped her on the floor of the home she had briefly shared with Dipta. With eyes that could just stare blankly, she saw them once again turn the place upside down. As they left, one of them kicked her out of his way.
Later, the buzzing flies woke her but she couldn’t find the strength to either recollect what had happened to her, or to get up. Dried blood clung to her body and her clothes. She ached from the recent violation and she ached to see Dipta, to know that he was alive, for only with that knowledge would she find the courage to survive what she had just gone through.
Hours went by and she began to feel the various emptinesses fill up her realm. Dipta was gone, she could sense that. Her baby was gone too, the gnawing emptiness inside told her. Perhaps if she lay thus for long enough, she would also cease to be.
It wasn’t so easy to die though and her parched throat craving for some water made her get up and drag herself to the pitcher. The pitcher was lying on its side, most of the water having spilled out, but there was some left. The water felt nice and cold. She looked around her. They had made sure that nothing was left standing in its original place, taken so much pleasure in ripping apart her life. Perhaps more pleasure than they had in taking her, which they had done violently, over and over. She shivered and curled up into a small ball in one corner.
That familiar feeling of being watched bothered her so much that she finally looked towards the window. It was night now, and framed in the window, she again saw the woman in white whom she had earlier seen. She wasn’t frightened to look any more. In fact nothing scared her any more. She was drawn towards the mysterious figure who reminded her of Nihar’s mother. She stepped out of the hut, hoping to get a better look of the woman’s face. The woman moved away and Ila followed, in a trance...
They walked away from Mangaon...
To be continued....
Terrorism and harassment of innocent people by the terrorists and the security men both have become a way of life?
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It is a way of life sometimes, in areas like the North-East...
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Is this Ila's journey back to the home that she left? I feel so sad for her. Just wish things get better for her!
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Yes, a journey back... but she's no longer the same person...
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Tragic ... and to say the least, we are seeing the culmination ... of those little dreams that makes every woman! I think Ila has a very dry road ahead ... the pitcher is all she can hope for, but water? I turn to almighty, where do u?
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Her life has taken a tragic turn, but there was no escaping the inevitable... in a way...
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Irene,
The narrative in this chapter goes to my heart. The change in POV is so subtle and smooth that it blends with the narrative. Congrats
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Thank you Suneetha.
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hey, irene you are getting better and better ... quite a powerful chapter!
Ah, i recall that poem too.
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Things we read as kids sometimes stay on forever...
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I have a bad cold and couldn't write this first thing in the morning. I was desperately hoping that the story would not run this way. That there will be a twist which no one expected. So far it has not happened. One possibility could have been Ila escaping the ultimate humiliation, somehow. A possibility could have been she escaping and finally running into Dipta's corpse and then losing her mind. But she's your creation, not mine. I have to accept her they way you want her to be. The woman in white remains a mystery of course. Let's see where she takes us. Perhaps to Dipta, perhaps elsewhere. Ila will be reasonably safe now hopefully, but we will have to wait and see if you will kill Dipta or ... Dynamic possibilities still exist. Will need to wait till next Saturday.
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Like you say, its my story and unfortunately there are no surprises - not the ones you are looking for. The woman in white... an uneasy spirit perhaps, or maybe a figment of Ila's imagination. One of those things that you experience but cannot quite explain.
Good luck with the cold.
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Hi Irene. The language in this chapter becomes lyrical. That, more than the plot, seems to make the chapter strong and vibrant, and also takes us right into the characters' hearts and minds. Have you read Mahashweta Devi's writings?
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I hate to admit it but I haven't read her... Thanks for reading Sucharita.
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A very well put(as usual) and poignant chapter which marks the beginning of a new phase in Ila's(and Nihar's life) and the end of Dipta's.
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Thanks for reading Ila.
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I told you that I have been thinking about this tale from different perspectives. Each of these had led me to a dead end. Yet, I felt, there was something I was missing again and again. I think I finally had a glimpse of it, only a short while back. And it's simply this. In my humble opinion, the best chapter of the story is the one which describes Ila leaving with Dipta without a word. I tend to believe that if there is anything like a complete and raw truth in the story, it is to be found in that chapter. It's best that I don't say anymore than this. But if you ever feel interested, let me know.
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Perhaps there's a raw truth in the chapter you talk about, and I'd of course be interested in knowing what you wish to say. For me, the truth is in that chapter and also elsewhere, and in the fact that life is sometimes so different from what each of us had thought it would be like...
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Yes, I see what you mean. Thanks for the viewpoint. All the best.
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A very touching chapter.. I was hoping against hope that Ila does not suffer the humiliation which the men in uniform had in store for her...Now I Hope the lady in white or the spirit is a guide who will lead Ila into a world, far away from the pain and hurt.
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Is there such a world anywhere Sandy... away from pain and hurt?
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"...various emptinesses fill up her realm"...wow...the imagery out of the poem; the woman in white, framed in the window...magical realism too...super chapter...an energy pulsating thru the lines today that spins the charkha like magic...keeponrolling...cheers
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Thanks Charlie, you're a great one for cheering up the author!
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that feeling of being watched...
a woman from the deepest recesses of our mind...
powerful writing in this chapter, Irene
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Was waiting for you to read. Thanks Nadi.
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