Sample Chapter from my novel-in-progress
CHAPTER 9
High above a warm hillside in the Aravalli Mountains of northern
Rajesthan, a buzzard mewed.
It swept a tight circle in the blue and gazed down at the man and three young boys far below who were bent over the side of a well shaft.
They were busily paying out rope which ran over a wooden beam pulley and disappeared into the darkness of the deep hole.
It swept a tight circle in the blue and gazed down at the man and three young boys far below who were bent over the side of a well shaft.
They were busily paying out rope which ran over a wooden beam pulley and disappeared into the darkness of the deep hole.
Udai, a thin man in his forties, was peering down into the
darkness. He who wore a white dhoti, and this was the fourth well they had
examined since sunrise.
He muttered instructions to the boys in Marwari, “Carefully
now. Don’t drop him down too fast or he might miss something important.” Then
he called down impatiently, “What can you see, Roop?”
Fifty feet below him, ten-year-old Roop gripped the side of
the basket in terror as it creaked and bumped against the walls of the shaft.
In his other hand he held a torch, from which beads of flaming tar rhythmically
dropped to the rocky floor below him, buzzing like angry hornets and
illuminating the terrifying drop on their way down.
“Stop here,” he yelled at the tiny circle of blue above him.
His downward journey stopped abruptly. Reaching out, he
detached a small object that had snagged itself on the rough surface of the
rocky wall. He held it up to the light of the torch, realised what it was and
dropped it with a scream.
Seconds later the desiccated human ear landed in a pool of
burning pitch and crackled like a moth in a candle flame.
“Roop? What was that, what happened?” called Udai.
“It’s alright, uncle,” was the quavering reply.
”Everything’s fine. Down a bit more please.”
“Look for anything unusual. Signs of loose stones or maybe
an entrance,” called the disembodied voice, “even a box of some kind.”
The basket reached the bottom, panicking a rustle of green
lizards to bolt for their hiding places, whilst the blackened ear continued to
burn, crackling as it quickly filled the shaft with the smell of barbecued
pork.
Roop kicked loose stones and soil over it. The last thing he
wanted was for his hand-woven taxi ride to catch fire before he made it back to
the surface. He strained his eyes in the dimness, peering around at the walls.
His bare foot caught on something sharp. It was then that he
realised he was being watched.
The floor of the well was a deep carpet of broken human
skulls. Empty eye sockets had followed his slow progress down the shaft over
the last ten minutes and were now laughing silently at his fear.
He swallowed hard, trying to keep a lid on his fear. They
would tease him for days if he cracked.
He jumped as a few pebbles rattled down the shaft, one of
them catching his shoulder and making it sting. He raised his free hand over
his head, but no more stones followed the first flurry, and now all he could
hear was the hiss of falling sand and the mew of a honey buzzard. Then silence
returned.
He paused, stilling his jangling nerves, and carefully
picked his way through the bone yard. Each footfall was accompanied by a loud
crack as a skull popped like a broken coconut. The sound reverberated around
the well space and added even more adrenalin to his already saturated blood
stream.
“Shri Udai? There are only old bones here, sir. It’s just a
well.”
“You can’t see anything else? Check every inch. We won’t be
back here again.”
Roop moved closer to the side of the well, and began to walk
around its whole circumference, now carefully avoiding the smiling faces
beneath his feet. He had almost completed the circle when the torch flame
jumped and roared.
He stopped and held the torch close to the wall, moving it
back and forth. Something didn’t look right. The shadow of the stones was
uneven at this spot. He reversed back a few steps and then approached the place
again.
Sure enough, the flame dipped towards the wall again, drawn
by a draft that pulled at it.
“Uncle? Just here. I
think I found something.”
“I’m coming now, Roop. Don’t touch anything,” implored Udai.
Roop watched regretfully as his lifeline was whisked up the
shaft and disappeared from view. His hand was involuntarily drawn to wall, and
he stroked it across the suspect bricks. A few of them lurched and fell with a
thud onto his bare toes, causing him to call out again.
He was accumulating a fine collection of bruises today. Shruti
would be furious with uncle Udai.
“What are you doing, Roop? I told you to wait for me.” His
uncle was halfway down the shaft now, and Roop could hear the welcome creak of
the basket as it returned, and the wavering light of Udai’s torch danced across
the white heads at the bottom. He shivered in the heat.
There was now a sizeable hole in the wall where the mud
bricks had been stacked.
Moments later his uncle was stepping through the skulls
towards him, accompanied by loud cracks and pops.
“There must be fifty people down here,” said Udai in
disbelief. Roop was relieved to have company. His linked his arm through that
of his uncle and tried to move closer.
Udai was only interested in the wall. “Stop being a baby,”
he snarled, “and clear these stones away. You’ll never be a man if you get
scared by the dark.”
“It’s not the darkness, uncle. It’s ... them. They were
watching me.” He pointed at the skulls and shook violently. Udai would have
none of it.
“They’ve been dead for years. They’re almost dust themselves
now. They can’t see you.” He laughed. Roop could hear the older boys at the top
laughing as well. Tears brimmed in his dark eyes and he sniffled.
“Give me your torch and start clearing those bricks away
right now.” he ordered, snatching it from him.
Roop jumped nervously and felt lost without the torch in his
hand. It had been a comfort to hold it and feel the warmth on his face, to
smell the burning tar and hear the friendly wafting sound of its flame. It
could even have doubled as a weapon if the dead people had tried to attack him.
Once he had cleared the bricks away, he could see that a
huge shelf had appeared in the rocky alcove. It was perfectly flat, and had
obviously been prepared very carefully. His uncle held both the torches in
front of him, clearly illuminating the space.
Whatever it might once have contained, it was now empty.
Apart, that is, from one tiny object standing at the back of the alcove. It was
smiling at him with a look of both understanding and apology.
Udai’s face paled and he said a quiet prayer. He knew
immediately what it meant.
A brass statue of Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth was sitting
on a lotus flower, her arms outstretched in an embrace. She was often placed
close to valuable objects to offer them protection against misfortune.
At the top of the well, the boys were dozing in the sun,
enjoying a well-earned rest. A broken Khejri tree scattered sangri fruits over
the slope. It leaned its weight against the lower wall of the dilapidated
building near the top of the hill, threatening to push it over as it sagged in
the heat.
‘Suraj, old friend,” growled Udai. “What was Lakshmi
protecting? What have you done with it?”
The buzzard mewed again as if in answer, piercing the
shimmering silence with its cry. Then it veered away towards the purple line of
the mighty Himalayas two hundred miles to the north.
