Recap: Daily, Jayanthan’s train rumbled into Poongudi, halfway to Trichy. But Poongudi wasn’t just a stop – it was Jyoti, the vibrant hawker, who brightened his day. A connection bloomed. A whim, fueled by Jyoti’s talk of Trichy, led him to take her there. Young hearts attracted each other.

Part 2: Parallel Tracks:

Chapter 16/26: Pale dawn

Crimson stained the cracked earth, a dreadful testimony to the war’s brutal end. Corpses, once warriors filled with life, littered the battlefield, their sightless eyes staring vacantly at the sky, mouths agape in a silent scream, as if trying to swallow the vast galaxy.

Piles of bodies, lay stacked high, burning in a crackling fire, in the burning ground nearby. The flames danced high, almost like the bodies were twisting and reaching up in a gruesome dance of death. The firelight painted the sky, the pond nearby, and the battlefield a spooky red.

The fire cast an eerie amber glow on the muddy water of the pond. A single tall Jambu tree stood guard on its bank. Shrubs of thorny karuvelam and prickly cacti, their leaves dusted with war’s grime, fenced the bank. Termites, oblivious to the carnage, swarmed everywhere, building their sandy homes.

I, too, lay like a corpse under the Jambu tree, my leg and genital badly crushed. Blood trickled down my leg, leaving a red stain in the muddy water of the pond. I felt weak, like my spirit was leaving my body. A hungry hyena, its eyes glowing with desire, sniffed at my face. The stink of its hunger filled the air. Behind the thorny bushes, jackals waited for their turn to feast.

My mother stumbled onto the battlefield, her hair escaping her veil. With worry etched on her face, she knelt beside a dead soldier, touching his face. “No,” she whispered, then moved on to the next body. Gathering every ounce of strength, I let out a faint moan.

‘mmmaaahh…‘

As if drawn by an invisible thread, my mother turned towards me. Relief flooded me as her fingers brushed my face. “Ayo…” she cried out, a sound that sent shivers down the hyena’s spine, making it cower away. I struggled to open my eyes. One eye obeyed, but the other refused. With a desperate longing to see my mother before fading away, I fought. Under a brown head veil, her tear-streaked eyes, blindfolded, filled my vision.

It is not my mother. It is…, Jyoti.

Tears soaked the ribbon tied around her eyes, one drop falling onto my wound. A searing pain erupted, a fire sparked from that droplet, engulfed everything, including me and Jyoti together. The jackels, inside the shrubs, shattered with the long, mournful howls. ‘oooooooh…., ooooooooh…‘

I woke with a scream, gasping for air. Sweat drenched my face, and my whole body trembled. I was in my usual spot upstairs, on the woven coir-cot. The terrace seemed to hold its breath, reflecting my own fear.

Rising, I splashed water from the clay pot by my cot onto my face, rinsing the taste of terror from my mouth. A drink of cool water helped calm me a bit. Moonlight streamed through the gaps in the ceiling, and I guessed it must be around 3 or 3:30 in the morning.

Bitter dream lingered. Yesterday’s joy with Jyoti at the station felt like a cruel trick now. Her figure, a fading silhouette at Poongudi, vanished. Humiliation burned as I replayed the events after her departure. Sleepless, my mind looped on the memories.

A gruff voice boomed, “Anna! there he is!” A finger jabbed accusingly in my direction. A man in his thirties, reeking of cigarettes, stormed towards me, his bushy mustache twitching. “What place are you from, brother? What’s your name?” he demanded.

Before I could answer, the finger-pointer chimed in, adding fuel to the fire with accusations. I scoffed. Who were these guys?

The man’s grip tightened on my shirt; his face contorted in rage. “So, you think you can sneak around our girls and keep it quiet?” he growled, shoving me towards the train wall.

Chaos erupted. Rajan and Ahmed rushed to my defense, shouts echoing through the compartment. He shouted from his abdomen, glaring at me. “Do you think you can scare me off with these guys? Ok. But if I see you around her again, you’ll regret it.” With that, he stormed off.

Shame burned in my cheeks as I boarded the already moving train. The joy of that day had been replaced by a profound sense of humiliation. My shirt hung askew, couple of buttons ripped free in the struggle. This was a side of myself I never knew existed – a target for anger and violence. Mrs. Mangalam offered safety pins, but my hands trembled too violently to use them.

Ahmed, ever the shoulder to lean on, offered to help. “It’s ok, buddy. It’ll be alright.”

I slumped in my seat, staring at the worn carpet beneath my feet. One question gnawed at the back of my mind: who was the accuser? Then a flicker of recognition sparked in my memory. He was the man Jyoti had met in the Trichy market.

The revelation sent a jolt through me. Why was he so hostile?

I banished the thoughts and came to reality with a forceful shake of my head. A rooster in the distance, announced the dawn.

(To be continued)

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