LITMIR.BIZ

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to her stepmother, but she no longer had faith in him. Kali’s intolerable cruelty had chipped away at their happiness and confidence. “Stand up for yourself. Fight for what you believe in,” her mother had always said.

      Tara remembered the one time when she had tried to stand up to Kali. After a hard slap and having to miss meals for a whole day, she never tried again.

      Escape to another village far away was their only hope. She would have to plan it well. Winter in the Kalesar forest would be harsh. The dangers were many: wild beasts, the intense cold, and other “things” that inhabited the forest.

      Rumours abounded in Morni about strange monsters that attacked people in the forest. Someone had called them “Vetalas” (meaning “ghosts”), and the name had spread like wildfire to all the surrounding villages. They would have to escape as soon as possible and find a safe and dry place to spend the winter while they decided where they could go. She knew of a number of villages nestled on the other side of the hills.

      If only they could cross the hills, they would be safe.

       CHAPTER 3 KHEER TO DIE FOR!

      “People of Morni, the Panchayat have an announcement. Come now.”

      The announcer ran past Tara’s hut. She immediately abandoned the weeds and stood up. Suraj was already by her side. Hand in hand, they followed the crowd to the banyan tree in the village centre to be closer to the Panchayat. Tara had a feeling this was going to be a very important announcement. “Kamlaji,” Tara addressed her neighbour respectfully, “do you know what’s going on?”

      “No,” said the lady, quickening her step before Tara could ask another question.

      Tara looked at the receding back with an ache in her heart. Kamlaji had been a lot friendlier when her mother had been around. Once again her lips moved involuntarily, in prayer for her mother’s return.

      They reached the banyan tree and sat down close to the raised platform that encircled it.

      Raka and the four elders that made up the village Panchayat were already seated in a semi-circle, looking grim. As soon as everyone had settled down, Raka began without any preamble.

      “I saw the mor this morning. The bird came at dawn and danced for a long time before it disappeared.”

      “Are you sure?” asked a wizened old man who appeared to be a hundred years old.

      Raka nodded.

      “What does this mean, seeing a peacock?” asked a villager. “I thought seeing a peacock was a thing of joy. It’s a beautiful bird, no?”

      “Not in this case,” answered Raka. “Our village is named after the peacock for a reason. As legend goes, whenever Morni is in danger, a peacock comes to the village and warns us. It has been so long since Morni has been in danger that the legend was forgotten ... until today!

      “You’ve seen a peacock’s tail, haven’t you?” asked Raka.

      The villager nodded, looking perplexed. “Have you noticed that the circles on its tail resemble eyes?”

      The villager raised his eyebrows. “I never thought of it that way.”

      “The mor is called ‘the bird of a hundred eyes,’” said Kartik, one of the Panchayat.

      “And this is a warning that we have to keep our eyes open. Danger is approaching ... or already here,” said Raka. “I have heard that the Vetalas have been sighted at Ropar, not too far from us. Be very careful when going to the forest. Don’t venture there alone and never go after dark. Is that clear? Now, go back to your chores.”

      Everyone looked worried. There was a moment of silence. The villagers dispersed while the Panchayat continued chatting. Tara was slow to get up and heard one of the men say, “It was good of you to warn the villagers about the Vetalas, Raka.”

      “What have we decided about Zarku?” asked another member of the Panchayat.

      The word “Zarku” made Tara’s skin crawl. She gave Suraj a little push.

      “Go on home, Suraj. I have something important to take care of,” she whispered.

      Suraj opened his mouth to say something, but Tara’s expression shut him up.

      “Yes, Didi,” he said and ran off.

      Tara circled the tree to the spot directly behind the Panchayat and squatted below the platform so that she could hear them unseen.

      “It is odd that he turns up from nowhere and knows the affairs of our village so accurately,” said Varun.

      “It seems like he has an informer inside Morni,” said Raka. “Have Dushta bring Zarku here.”

      Kartik called out to a passing villager, asking him to convey the message to Dushta. The villager returned with Dushta — a short man with oily black hair parted down the middle. His eyes had a shrewd look in them as if constantly searching for the opportunity to make money. His hand alternated between stroking his pot belly and rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

      “What are you doing here?” snapped Raka. “We asked Zarku to present himself.”

      “My respected elders,” said Dushta, folding his pudgy hands. “Zarku wishes to speak with Raka, after which he will present himself in front of the Panchayat.”

      Raka looked annoyed at being counter-summoned. He got off the platform and strode off in the direction of Dushta’s hut. Dushta sat down on his haunches next to the others to wait. A long time passed and the remaining members of the Panchayat were starting to get restless.

      “What is happening?” one of them said. “Why is Raka taking so long? We should investigate.”

      No sooner were the words out of his mouth when they saw Raka striding back. He reached the group and announced, “I have had a long chat with Zarku. I believe that he is an accomplished healer and much better than Prabala.”

      Everyone gaped at him. Tara felt a jolt in her chest at the words. Morni was going to replace her grandfather. She had to bring him back.

      “Raka, are you sure?” asked one of them.

      “I am sure,” he said in an expressionless voice. “I want no further discussion or argument.”

      “In that case, we should give him Prabala’s hut and make a formal announcement to the village,” said Kartik.

      “Yes, we should do that as soon as possible. Send messengers throughout the village and let them rejoice that Morni has a new, more powerful healer,” said Raka.

      They all dispersed and, a few seconds later, Tara crept away.

      •••

      As soon as Tara got back, she continued with weeding the vegetable patch. Suraj was nowhere to be seen. Raka’s words echoed in her mind. Morni was in danger and Prabala was gone. Now Zarku would replace him. It was not fair. Her grandfather had done so much for the villagers. The least they could do was wait for him to come back or send someone to find him. He was alive and so was her mother. She knew it in her heart.

      Two thin arms encircled her neck.

      “Didi, I worked really hard and made all the vessels gleam, so Mother told me I could go and play till lunchtime, so I came to help you,” Suraj said, all in one breath.

      Tara stood up and hugged Suraj, feeling her throat tighten.

      “Thank you, Suraj. If you finish weeding this patch, I’ll wash the clothes in the back. Then we can leave a bit earlier to feed Father.”

      Suraj squatted on his haunches immediately, his small, brown hands tugging at the weeds. With a last look at him, Tara went to the back of the house, collecting a pile of dirty clothes along the way.

      As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Tara scrubbed

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