Darkness.
Eyes fluttering open and then shut.
A low ceiling, cobwebs on the roof.
Darkness.
Eyes opening.
A vase with withered flowers, a musty smell in the air.
Darkness.
The sound of crockery breaking.
Eyes blinking open in confusion, watching a blurry figure stumble across the room.
Riddhima stirred on a cold stone floor, staring at the wooden leg of a chair near her face. The room was almost dark, a lone window hinting at dusk outside. She groaned, sitting up and stretching her cramped muscles. Her thoughts were slow and dull, like pushing through murky waters. This felt worse than a hangover.
Her eyes took in the tiny space, a living room of some kind with only a table and a chair. The ceiling was low, a makeshift arrangement with tarpaulin and wood. She got to her feet, wobbling slightly. There was a bright red curtain ahead, probably the entrance to another room. “Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing weirdly in the tiny room. “Is anyone here? Hello?”
No answer.
Damn it.
Riddhima inched closer to the curtain, cursing under her breath. If this was a horror movie, a ghost would be standing behind her right now. She grabbed the vase from the nearby table, turning around quickly.
No one was there.
She let out the breath she had been holding. As her mind began to clear, Riddhima stared blankly at her surroundings. What was this place? Wasn’t she supposed to be elsewhere? Where was Rudra? And Vansh?!
She grabbed at her neck in panic, relieved to feel the chain. The stone was safe. Vansh was safe.
The curtain billowed suddenly, making her step back in fear. She glimpsed something on the ground just beyond the threshold. Riddhima stood still for a moment, her hand tightening over the vase. Another gust of wind blew the curtain further away.
A white tea cup lay broken on the floor, the liquid spilling in abandon. She could see what looked like a bedroom, an open window spilling dull sunlight on the occupied bed. “Hello?” she ventured again, inching closer. There was no door. She knocked on the hollow walls. “Can I come in?”
No answer.
Muttering a prayer to the almighty, Riddhima walked past the curtain, gingerly stepping over the mess on the floor. This room looked as drab as the other one, the paint peeling off barren walls. Her breath quickened as her eyes landed on the small bed. Someone lay motionless under the rough grey blanket…a woman, her long hair brushing the floor.
“Excuse me?” Riddhima rasped, then cleared her throat. “Is this your home? I am lost. Are you awake, madam?”
No answer.
She didn’t want to go any closer. What if this woman was a serial killer? Worse, what if she was an evil ghost too? She was still reeling from an encounter with the last one.
Fuck this shit.
Heart thudding, she approached slowly, keeping close to the walls. Where was the light switch in this bloody house? The woman didn’t even stir as she neared. The dying sunlight brought out the brown tints in her silky dark hair. Riddhima could see the golden glint of bangles on one of her hands.
Don’t be a ghost. Don’t be a ghost. Don’t be a ghost.
Pursing her lips, she poked her once, backing away hurriedly. The woman didn’t move. Bracing inwardly, she approached again. Hands shaking, she grabbed the edge of the blanket, tossing it down her upper body in one swoop.
A young girl lay on the mattress, her mouth lolling open as if in deep sleep. She was pale and gaunt looking, with high cheekbones and sooty eyelashes. A simple cotton sari was draped carelessly across her form.
“Layla?” Riddhima whispered. “Is this you?”
No answer.
The more Riddhima watched her, the more a growing sense of unease gripped her. Belatedly, something devastating registered on her.
Her chest wasn’t moving! The woman wasn’t breathing!
Oh my God!
She shook her slim shoulders in fright, crying out in alarm. “Don’t be dead! Shit, are you dead?!”
It was then that her eyes landed on a sight she would never forget.
A crimson tinge was spreading slowly over the mattress. Eyes wide in horror, Riddhima pushed the blanket further down the girl’s body. The bedsheet under her legs was soaked in blood. A silent scream lodged in her throat. She could smell the strong scent of rust in the air.
Staggering back, she bumped into a dresser, sending items crashing to the floor.
This girl is dead! There is a dead body in this room!
Riddhima screamed, running blindly through the darkened room, jumping past the billowing curtain.
Her feet landed on hard ground. A sudden burst of light startled her. Riddhima stopped mid step, staring around like a caged animal. She was now on a ledge, a grassy meadow behind her and a river bubbling beneath. The day was bright and sunny, the air fresh with the smell of flowers and damp earth. She clutched her head, sobbing and shivering.
What the fuck was happening? Was she in a dream? “Help!” she shouted, an animalistic sound torn from a place deep within. “Mamma! Papa! Vansh! Rudra! Help me!”
Riddhima dropped to the floor, hugging herself. She rocked back and forth, struggling to think rationally. If this was a nightmare, she had to either wake herself up or wait for someone to do that. The star sapphire pulsed against her chest, making her heart rate slow to a steady rhythm. This could only be a dream. She hadn’t touched any dead person. There was no dead body. She pinched her arm hard, feeling calmer when it didn’t hurt.
“This is a dream,” she exhaled, blinking back frightened tears. “Come on, girl. Wake yourself up. This is just a nightmare. No one is dead.”
She had lucid dreamed once before and had forced herself to wake at the time. Riddhima shut and opened her eyes experimentally, slower each time. Her thoughts began to slow, a dull fog rising in her mind.
Darkness.
Meadow. The blurred outline of a tree.
Darkness.
Clouds passing by a clear blue sky. The chirrup of birds.
Darkness.
A lonely road illuminated by headlights. The steady hum of an engine.
Darkness.
A figure walking towards her on the ledge.
Riddhima’s eyes flew open, pulse beginning to race again. She stiffened. A woman again. Different this time, yet oddly familiar. Wrapped in a heavy navy shawl, her hair was tied in a severe bun. Dark almond shaped eyes looked past her, a desolate twist to her mouth.
As she wandered closer, Riddhima held out her hands in warning. “Don’t come any closer. Stop right there. Who are you?”
Undeterred, the woman walked towards her…and then right through her. Riddhima swiveled in shock, watching as she paused at the edge, staring at the churning waters below. There was an expression on the woman’s face that chilled her to the bone. A prickle of foreboding danced across the nape of her neck.
“No!” Riddhima screamed, just as the woman jumped off the ledge. She ran towards the edge, her foot slipping on the wet floor. With a blood curling scream, she fell towards the greedy waters. Time seemed to slow as she fell.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Riddhima gasped loudly, her head rising towards the sky as if desperate for air. The blank space of a blackboard stunned her momentarily. There was a sudden silence, the roar of the waters fading away. She stared around her in astonishment. She was seated on a bench, her fingers clutching a wooden desk. A strong sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her.
This place!
She knew this place!
A fan whirred steadily overhead, its drone adding to the silence of her tenth grade classroom. She could hear a din in the distance, like that of school children playing in the grounds. Bags were set against benches, a couple of books lying open on desks. She was seated in the second last row, her favorite place from a time long gone.
Her hands traced the wooden surface in awe, looking past the windows towards the boundary walls. How many times had she gazed at this very sight through her school year? How many days had she dreamed of climbing that baby pink wall during dreary history lessons, endless Shakespearean plays…?
Her fingers stilled their exploration, finding the carvings she had etched on the desk as a school girl. A lump rose to her throat as her eyelashes lowered to the names.
Riddhima. Hina. Aditi. Forever.
“Oh God…” she whispered, her eyes moist with regrets. Her fingers roved over the letters, tracing the names lovingly. “I am sorry. I am so sorry, guys.”
“Riddhima?”
To say that she was startled would have been an understatement. Riddhima turned around screaming, clambering onto the desk and on top of the next bench. She jumped another one, dashing madly towards the classroom doors.
“Riddhima?!” The voice shouted. “It’s me! What are you doing? Stop the goddamn screaming, woman!”
She paused, her hands on the handle. How could this be? Was it a trick? She turned reluctantly. For a moment she could see nothing. But then the air shimmered in the sunlight…and he was there.
Sitting in the last row.
“Vansh!” she wailed, relief making her voice shrill. “You are alive! I was so scared!”
Riddhima ran across the room, nearly tripping over a bag. Vansh stood slowly, mirroring her expression of joyous disbelief. Just as they reached for each other, her hands slipped past his form. It was like putting her hands in a bucket of ice. She gasped, pulling them back. They stared at each other in open mouthed horror.
“I can’t touch you,” she raised shocked eyes to his. “Why can’t I touch you, Vansh? What is happening?”
“Sweetheart,” he slid down onto the seat again, as if suddenly weary. “I am a ghost. It is what it is.” He motioned for her to sit in the seat she had abandoned, rubbing his hand tiredly over his face. She swallowed, noticing how faded he looked; so different from the enigmatic ghost she had met in the mansion not so long ago.
“Are you okay?” she ventured hesitantly, inching her hand towards him. The chill made her pull it back again. “I was so scared for you.”
Inscrutable dark eyes pinned her to the spot. “What are you doing here, Riddhima?” There was a bite in his deep voice again. “Did I not ask you to leave? And yet here you are, in this…in this…” He stared around him as if seeing the classroom for the first time. “What the hell is this place?”
Riddhima gaped at him. “You don’t know where we are?”
“How would I? I just woke up…and then I saw you talking to yourself-“
She blinked. “Seriously? You remember nothing?”
Vansh sighed, looking exasperated. “I remember telling you to leave. Why don’t you ever listen?”
“Just shut up!” she bit out, her eyes flashing. “Do you have any idea how worried I have been? When Kabir and you were fighting, there was an explosion and I have no idea what happened after that. I tried to get help, but then everything became scarier…and then Sutapa said your spirit is in this stone…” She paused, her hand rising protectively towards the pendant.
Vansh’s gaze dropped to her neck. “I am in what?” He looked flummoxed. It would have been funny if she hadn’t felt so exhausted.
“Sutapa, that old shaman lady we followed, said your spirit is in this stone,” she reiterated patiently. “When Kabir and you fought, something happened to you. And your spirit somehow got trapped in this stone. There was a whole light show and everything. Do you remember?”
“In bits and pieces,” The furrows on his forehead deepened. “I have been losing track of time since we…parted ways. The last thing I remember is telling you to run away. But you didn’t.”
Riddhima felt like kicking his mulish butt. Reigning in her temper, she leaned forward. “Can you drop that for, say, an hour? While we attempt to have a conversation, like adults?”
They stared each other down, engaged in a silent battle of wills. Finally, Vansh inclined his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “My my,” he gave a heart stopping half smile. “Look at you, all grown up. No, don’t pout now. You are spoiling the effect of that very adult glare.” He reached towards her out of habit. She shuddered as his cold fingers touched the corner of her mouth. “I have missed your smile, little girl.”
The simple words, quietly spoken in that tone, made her blush. “Then stop annoying me,” she muttered, looking away self-consciously and then back into his eyes. “Talk to me, Vansh. Please tell me everything. I don’t know where we are right now. I think this is what Sutapa meant by a spirit dream. If so, you are still trapped in this stone and I am still blood bonded to both you and that other ghost. We need to figure a way out of this mess. Don’t I deserve to know everything after all we have been through…together?”
A naked brokenness unveiled behind his eyes. “I never wanted things to go this far, Riddhima,” Vansh whispered, cupping her face. He drew away as she winced from the chill. “I never wanted to involve you like this and put you in danger. This was never in the plan. Can you believe that?”
“I do,” she uttered softly. “But this is not your choice to make. It’s mine. I chose to stay.”
“Why don’t you ever listen?” he growled. “What you are doing is dangerous! You are human, for heaven’s sake! Forget all of this and move on. I am already dead. Don’t you get that?”
“Is it that easy? Abandon a friend you promised to help? Or do you think so little of me?” A world of hurt shined behind her eyes. “I can’t just get up and leave, Vansh! How can I live my life in peace, knowing you suffered well after death? Don’t you get that?”
They stared at each other, a mirror of frustration mixed with fear for the other. Vansh groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Okay. You win. I have never met a more stubborn person in my life. Fine, I will tell you everything.” He met her eyes, a grim line to his mouth curbing any elation she felt at his earlier words. “But you will have to make me a promise, Riddhima.”
“I don’t think-“
“If things get worse,” he cut in, his gaze turning intense. “If it gets more than you can handle. If it’s your life against my existence…you will break the stone.”
Riddhima inhaled sharply. Vansh raised a hand as she opened her mouth. “No. You will make this promise to me now. Kabir is blood tied to you through me. If I pass, he has no hold over you. You haven’t seen what he is truly capable of… He is pure evil. I will not let him hurt someone I love. Never again. If you care about me, even a little, you will promise to let me go.”
She swallowed, a keening sense of pain enveloping her. Her eyes took in the diminished figure of a once proud man, his beautiful features faded like the wall behind him. Darkness swirled in irises that had once shined with an inner glow. When she had met him, he had felt as alive as any other man. But now, he was like a mirage, shimmering in and out with shadows and light.
Tugging her sleeve down to cover her hand, Riddhima placed it over his on the desk. Even with the cloth, she could barely stand the coldness of his new form. “If this gives you peace,” she whispered. “Then I promise to…to let you go, if it gets too dangerous for me.” She looked at him fiercely. “But till then, I will do everything it takes to get you justice. And your interfering ass cannot stop me!”
Glaring in warning, she blew on her now icy hand for warmth. Vansh chuckled, resting his head wearily on the desk. “You are such a magnificent woman, Riddhima Sharma.”
Mimicking him, she lay on her arm. He looked surreal, his face in a direction opposite to hers. “Am I a woman or a little girl? Make up your mind, Vansh Raisingheenia.”
He tugged on a strand of her hair in reproach, slowly wrapping it around his finger. Moments ticked by as they gazed at each other, both remembering a time on the Ferris wheel, cocooned in the colours of dusk.
“Can you tell me what is happening to you?” she asked softly, loathe to break the spell. “You look so different each time we meet. How is this possible?”
“I…honestly don’t understand. Something happened from the moment I broke our bond. It just sent me to a dark place…I can’t explain it exactly, but my soul just seemed to…unravel,” he shuddered. “I have never felt the Great Void this close before. Not even when I died.”
“Sutapa mentioned the Great Void too. She said it is a dark matter that is nothing and everything at once,” Riddhima recited like in a classroom lesson. “Only a priestess like Ahilya can draw magic from it, making her immune to evil stuff like possession.”
Vansh looked amused. “Very good, child. I would give you top marks for that.” She swatted at him, then hissed at the chill. He tugged at her locks again, making her yelp. “You cannot touch me anymore, little girl. Now behave and let me try to explain.” She stilled obediently, watching him smoothen out the strand and then curl it around his index finger. “Ahilya used to talk about the Great Void sometimes. She was quite enamoured with it, probably even worshipped it. She said it was the source of all creation; that we came from it as blood and bone, and returned to it as souls. Then came back from it, transforming each time in an endless cycle. I never really knew what to make of these words. In life, I was quite a practical man. Reincarnation, magic, energies… They seemed like a fool’s dream to me, you know.”
“How did you meet her?”
“We used to play together as children,” a fond smile lit up his visage. “I was an only child, very pampered…almost spoilt rotten. Ahilya and Janani were like fireworks, shining bright and scared of no one. They practically bullied me into becoming less of a…umm…peacock? Isn’t that what you used to call me too?”
Riddhima giggled. “A strutting peacock,” she corrected. “You still dress like that!”
Vansh rolled his eyes. “One would think a ghost would be excused for not keeping up with fashion trends.”
“No. That gaudy suit colour is just inexcusable,” she shook her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Anyway,” he continued with a mock glare in her direction. “Those girls had lots more colourful names for me than your vanilla peacock. It used to irk my mother to no end. Finally, she put an end to my escapades with them and I grew up learning how to be a good landowner to my tenants.”
“Your mother sounds quite strict.”
“Well, she wasn’t always like that. But the day she came to know about my father’s first love and their child Kabir… she just changed. More bitter, less given to gestures of affection. She began to hate the shamans and forbade me from playing with their children. I remember many fights with my grandmother, because Maa felt betrayed by her secrecy. My father didn’t help matters. He was a dutiful man to our family, but she could never feel loved by him. And so, I grew up closer to the servants than I was to my own family. Sometimes I would run into the other shaman children and play with them secretly.”
“I remember another dream about your family,” Riddhima interjected gently. She described the shaman marketplace and young Vansh and Kabir. “It was so weird to watch your mother change in personality from one dream to the next. And I hate to tell you this, but I felt bad for little Kabir in that dream. He just looked so sad and small…”
“Kabir was one of the children I used to play with secretly, Riddhima.” Vansh’s voice was flat. “All my life, I have had to act more responsible than others my age. As his younger half-brother, I even began to look up to Kabir. I thought we had bonded like only brothers do…But with age, there came a distance between us that even our childhood camaraderie could not bridge.”
“He hated that you got everything that he craved for,” she spoke low, fearfully looking around the room. Remembering Kabir’s vile words always set her nerves tingling. “You got a family, the inheritance, the social status…perhaps, even Ahilya.”
Vansh’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”
Riddhima hesitated, wondering if this truth would hurt him. “My third dream was about Kabir and Ahilya. He said he loved her and threatened her to stay with him.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “He always wants what I want,” his voice had turned icy. “Ahilya and I were never together, but he always knew what she meant to me. That only made him pursue her more.”
“What did she mean to you?” Riddhima impatiently tamped down a surge of jealousy.
“Ahilya was the first woman I fell in love with,” his voice grew soft in remembrance. The very air seemed to still in the room. “She was everything I was not. Bold. Unconventional. An outcast and a rebel. She floated through life without shackles, and yet was loyal to those she loved. When Janani realized she could not have a child, she tried to end her life in the river. I saved her that night, and in return Ahilya gave me the gift of her friendship. The night I died…wasn’t the first time Kabir had tried to kill me.”
Riddhima sucked in a breath, staring at him mutely.
“It started out small,” Vansh spoke, gazing into her eyes. “Little accidents here, a mishap there. But her magic saved me every single time. It angered him beyond measure. And so, one day, he turned on her. But she was a priestess, too powerful for him. So, his tricks became more devious, more elaborate. Our lives became a cycle of saving each other, which brought us closer. When I expressed my feelings for her, she turned me down and so I remained just a friend. Till the very end.”
“But why did she turn you down?”
“Perhaps because I wasn’t as handsome to her as I am to you.” There was a wicked glint in his dark eyes.
She grinned, raising her brows. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Shouldn’t I?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Would you have turned me down, Riddhima?”
A hush descended on the room at his words. She blinked, almost forgetting to breathe. “What?” Her heart thudded as Vansh leaned closer.
“If I were alive and we were friends…” he spoke carefully, searching her eyes. “…and I expressed my feelings for you, would you have accepted to be my wife?”
A shocked laugh escaped her, startling them both. “Wife? Wife! Oh my goodness!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the bubbling laughter.
“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.” Vansh straightened, eyes narrowed in affront. She burst into full bellied laughter, shaking the desk between them. He crossed his arms, tapping his foot on the floor as she went into fresh peals of laughter.
“Wife,” she shook her head, wiping tears of hilarity out of her eyes. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Sometimes I forget we are from different time periods.” Resting her face in her hands, she gazed at him fondly. “In my world, women don’t marry young, especially when they have a career to plan.”
“What?” His mouth fell open. “I thought you were at least 20.”
“Actually, I am 22,” Riddhima countered smugly.
“And that’s young?!” Vansh stared, flabbergasted. “In my time, most women your age had two children already with one more on the way.”
It was her turn to look annoyed. “Well, now they don’t! We marry in our late 20s and most of us have no more than two kids, and that too only after reaching financial stability. However long that takes.”
“That sounds dreadful.”
“Oh no, it isn’t!” She rushed to explain. “You see, men and women are free to be with each other, in a relationship other than marriage. They can date, have fun, travel, even experiment sharing a life together before tying the knot. There are less responsibilities and more of, you know, getting to know each other in all possible ways.”
“You have sex without marriage?!” Vansh looked positively scandalized.
“Why is it always about sex with you guys?” Riddhima grumbled. “Couples share more than just a physical connection, you know. Ghost boy or man, you are all the same.”
“But-but you don’t see anything wrong with this?” Vansh spluttered. “In this relationship of yours, what stops a man from dishonoring a woman and leaving her later?”
“Dishonoring-” Riddhima raised her hands in the air. “Aren’t you being a little too dramatic?”
“Dramatic?! I am shocked you find it acceptable to have sex-“
“As if you married every ghost woman you ever had sex with, you little hypocrite!”
“They were dead!”
“That’s even more sick!”
“Damn, you crazy woman-“
Riddhima placed her lips on his swiftly, shutting up the tirade. “Cold cold cold cold,” she muttered, breaking the kiss and rubbing at her lips.
The simmering heat in Vansh’s eyes stilled her hand.
* * *