Away From Home
Chapter
(Chandigarh Police Station)
Officer I
- Look, I’ve actually met a lot of honest folk … Janardhan, I know hunger hurts more than punishment ever could. Morality only matters when people have full bellies, a place to stay, and a shred of dignity.
The officer speaks gently, as if comforting a child who made a small mistake.
Officer I
- Some kids will break a window, a counter, or even someone’s head just so their mother won’t go hungry—I get it, I really do!
- Are you that kind of man?
The man cuffed to the chair across from him sniffles and tilts his head away dramatically.
Janardhan
- *sob* You’re right, officer …
The drama continues. He lowers his head into his hands, choking back tears.
The officer places a hand on his shoulder and offers a single probing question.
Officer I
- So … where’s the money?
- And of course, the child—we’re all very concerned about her whereabouts.
The man sobs uncontrollably, mumbling incoherent words.
Officer I
- What was that? Say it again.
The officer brings his ear closer.
But what reaches up to him isn’t words.
Officer I
- —Aaaargh!
Teeth tear into his earlobe, ripping flesh and unleashing a stream of blood.
Officer I
- Let go! Let go! You damn Swine God Arcanist from Mor Pankh! Someone, get in here!
Janardhan
- Hahahahaha!
Blood runs through the gaps in his teeth. The pitiful act is gone entirely.
Janardhan
- You really think I don’t know what you’re after?
Amid agonized screams, the door to the interrogation room bursts open.
Officer II
- Monster! Let him go!!!
Another officer storms in, pulling a black iron baton from his belt and slamming it hard into the man’s gut.
Janardhan
- *vomiting*
The sudden blow makes him gag, and he finally lets go.
Janardhan
- *cough*
- Hahahaha!
The wounded officer presses his hand over his blood-soaked ear, gasping breathlessly as his colleagues lead him out to attend to the wound.
He’s left alone in the interrogation room.
On the table, a headline stands out. A missing person.
—“Kanjira.”
Six days ago
Child I
- Why are we being so sneaky this time? Can’t we just talk during the day? Ow—
Knuckles rap the child’s head, giving him a solid but playful knock.
Ajar
- Shh … Quiet down, dummy! We don’t want Ms. Sherjah to hear us! Wait till we’re inside the caravan. Boss must have something important planned.
Child II
- You said the same thing last time. And what happened? Turns out you had the time wrong, and I ended up getting bit in the butt by that guard dog!
Ajar
- So? Didn’t I swap pants with you after that? You’re so whiny.
The kids shove and chase each other. But as an adult passes by, they shrink their necks and act like perfect students.
In the night, they scurry like field mice through a melon patch to reach their destination.
(Secret Base)
Tiny feet rustle through the outskirts of the woods until they reach a rundown caravan.
Ajar
- Boss? Boss? You there? Hey, hey …
Child I
- *sigh* She’s late again …
“Huff … huff … huff … huff …”
The quiet caravan suddenly rumbles like the puffing breath of a giant.
Ajar
- Who’s in there?! I—I’m warning you, get down here! This is our turf!
Child I
- What if it’s that escaped killer? Let’s just get out of here … Ajar …
“Huff … huff … huff … huff …”
Ajar
- If you don’t come out, I’m letting the dog loose!
Ajar elbows his buddy.
His buddy just points at his own chin, like, “Why is it always me?”
Child I
- …
The kid crouches down, stretches his neck out, and curls his tongue—
Child I
- Hiss-roar! Woof! Woof woof …!
Ajar
- You hear that?!
But the “intruder” inside the caravan ignores them completely and even starts again.
Only this time—
“Huff … huff … huff … huff …”
“Huff-chuff!”
Kanjira
- Finally, finally got it working!
Ajar
- Boss, is that you in there?!
The kids rush over, eyes wide like they’re gawking at an elephant.
Ajar
- You fixed up that old caravan your folks left you? Whoa, where’d you learn to pull off something like that?
The giant door creaks open, and a scrawny kid crawls out looking more like a baby bird than an ace mechanic.
Kanjira
- Cough, cough … Ugh, I’m choking! That kid at the repair shop wasn’t lying, it seems. Not a bad trade, huh?
- Hey, Ajar, you made it.
Ajar
- So this is why you called us here, Boss? We’re finally gonna take that caravan and steal some of the grown-ups’ business?
The kids cheer wildly—but their excitement is quickly doused with a cold splash of reality.
Kanjira
- No, you’ve got it wrong, Ajar.
- I … I’m going to take this caravan and leave Mor Pankh.
Ajar
- ?!
…
Convincing the others isn’t too hard, but it stirs up a wave of worry.
Ajar
- But … could it really be true? If your folks are really on the other side of the country, why didn’t they ever come here to look for you?
The kids lie on the grass, staring up at the sky, fireflies floating all around them, but none of them are in the mood to catch them.
Kanjira
- That pickpocket who jumped off train—he looked just once at my snake anklet, and said he recognized it.
- He said back at the train station he saw a woman with the same snake! And they’ve been looking everywhere for their missing girl!
She pulls a missing person notice from her pocket. There’s no picture, just a vague description and an age range that roughly matches her own.
And a simple drawing of a snake anklet.
Kanjira
- Maybe … they never abandoned me after all. Maybe they just … forgot me.
Ajar
- Kanjira … maybe he was just making stuff up? And even if it’s true, what if they’re not looking for you anymore?
The girl takes a deep breath.
Kanjira
- I have to see for myself!
Ajar
- But if it really is them, will you come back?
The clouds covering the moon grow heavier.
Kanjira
- …
- Of course.
- Because …
- This is my home!
Ajar
- Boss, here, take this. It’s all I “earned” this morning at the station.
The boy sits up, pulls a handful of crumpled bills from his pocket, and lays them carefully on a palm-sized leaf beside her.
Then comes the second kid.
Child I
- And this is all I made shining shoes for those rich old men today. They tipped a lot!
Child II
- And mine too …
One by one, the kids empty their day’s earnings onto the leaf. It isn’t really all that much, but the leaf still bends under the weight.
Until it can’t hold anything more.
Kanjira
- But you guys will go hungry!
Ajar
- Heh, it’s no big deal. Boss, you’re heading out into the big wide world. You can’t go without travel money, right?
Kanjira
- I … I will pay you back, all of you!
Child I
- Hahaha … You better! When you come back, we will charge tons of interest! You’ll work for us for the rest of your life!
Kanjira
- Oh yeah! You little rascals, that’s your plan, huh? Hmph! Well, when I come back, don’t expect even half a rupee!
Child II
- You wouldn’t dare!
The gang piles onto her, tickling mercilessly. They roll around the grass, laughing and wrestling, smoothing the field flat.
The wind picks up.
…
A figure stumbles into the woods, gasping for air, barely staying upright.
Janardhan
- *cough* They shouldn’t be able to catch up now.
A rundown caravan lies ahead—the perfect hiding spot.
He scrambles into the back, slips, and collapses behind a seat.
He’s like a bear wounded while escaping from a trap. His victory is pyrrhic, and he’s left too weak to move.
Janardhan
- Ugh … damn …
Soon, he blacks out.
(TO BE CONTINUED…)
Ajar
- Everyone, push hard! Boss has to get out before sunrise! If Ms. Sherjah or anyone else sees us, it’s all over!
Kanjira
- Yeah, there’s only one way out of the village. I need to leave before Uncle Chopra comes to set up his fish stall.
- You all know anything that man sees will reach Granny Sutaliya’s ears before noon! We’ve gotta stay hidden.
She climbs into the seat and grips the handles tight.
Kanjira
- Let’s go.
At her command, the kids push against the back of the caravan together.
The wheels creak, struggling over the grass.
One turn, two turns … Speed picks up as the wheels find the slope, and they finally let go, watching as the caravan rolls toward the road out of the village.
The Kids
- …!
Ajar
- Let’s follow her!
The sky is still dark, and the market is empty.
Kanjira
- Mor Pankh …
The caravan rolls past rows and rows of familiar paths, the alleys they used to run through, the streets Ms. Sherjah would chase them down.
Clothes hanging out to dry pass over her, fish stalls that reek with the lingering scent of yesterday’s catch … Everything so familiar, yet suddenly strange.
The kids chase after the caravan like yipping puppies, barking out with excitement.
Until the caravan crosses the village gates, that invisible line separating their whole little world—
And the kids come to a halt.
Ajar
- G-Goodbye … Boss …
Their small shadows close together, becoming a neat and solid row as they watch.
…
Child I
- Hey … Did the caravan feel heavier than before?
Ajar
- Nah, you’re just hungry and overthinking things again.
Five hours later
*knock*
???
- *cough*
Kanjira
- Huh? What’s that noise?
- Oh no, don’t tell me Uncle Sinha’s dog climbed in there again! I better check.
- ?!
A black gun barrel stretches out from the door.
And a battered figure crawls out behind it.
Janardhan
- *cough* Thanks for the lift, kid.
He staggers, leaning against the caravan, but keeps the gun trained on Kanjira.
Janardhan
- Ahh, damn it, ankle’s still messed up. Should’ve grabbed more loot before I left that village.
- Get lost before I change my mind. Go home to your mom.
Kanjira
- You’re that fugitive. Janardhan.
He backs toward the driver’s seat.
But the girl holds her ground.
Janardhan
- Do you want to stop looking at me like that, or should I put a hole through your forehead?
*thud*
Dust kicks up from the ground, but she doesn’t flinch.
Kanjira
- You’re in MY caravan.
Janardhan
- That so …
He tucks the gun away, pulls out a knife from his pocket, and limps toward her.
Kanjira
- …!
???
- Hey! What’s going on? Your car break down?
Janardhan
- …
He sidesteps closer to Kanjira, pressing the knife against her back from an angle no one can see.
Janardhan
- Oh, no worries, my friend. Just out here on a little trip with my daughter. She got excited and insisted on stepping out for a bit.
The sharp edge pokes into her back, a silent threat.
Kanjira
- Yep, that’s right, Papa.
He nods toward his injured leg.
Janardhan
- My legs aren’t doing too well. Can’t exactly go chasing after her. So we had a little argument.
- Kids these days … So hard to keep them in line.
???
- Hahaha, I get it. I’ve got one about her age—worse than she is, I tell ya!
Rahul
- Name’s Rahul. I live just nearby. Work for Mr. Salman at his plantation, and my wife helps out at the pottery workshop.
- Police station’s not far. If you need help, I mean, I’d be happy to fetch them for you.
Janardhan
- Thanks for the offer, Rahul. But we’re just leaving. Won’t take up much of your time.
Kanjira grabs his sleeve, her eyes brimming with tears, playing the part perfectly.
Kanjira
- But Papa, can’t we stay just a little while? Please? I want to see Uncle Rahul’s farm. I’ve been stuck inside all day—I’m going stir-crazy!
Janardhan
- No, you’re not—
Rahul
- Hahaha, I’d be grateful for the help, sir. My wife is pregnant and stuck at home. If your daughter’s willing, I’d be happy to offer you both lunch.
Janardhan
- …
That’s music to their empty stomachs.
Janardhan
- Hmm, can’t say no to that.
He lets the girl go.
Janardhan
- Listen up, kid. You stay where I can see you, understand? One wrong move, and you know what happens.
His eyes narrow as he attempts a gentle, fatherly smile, so kind it hides the threat—so kind it’s terrifying.
Kanjira
- Uh-huh …
(Rahul’s Home)
Tara
- Oh yes, just like that, girl. You’ve got a real talent.
- Press your hands evenly, feel the clay moving between your fingers—
Kanjira
- Ah—!
Her hands slip for just a second, and the clay collapses. All her work, gone.
Tara
- Haha, you’ve got the hang of it already, just a bit too eager.
In the shade against the wall, rows of finished blue pottery line up neatly.
Tara
- But I’m still far from the number Mr. Salman ordered. I’ll have to keep working through the night. You go rest.
Kanjira
- W-Why? Auntie Tara, you’re so good at this! If you took these to a big market, you could sell them for lots of money!
Tara
- The market? No, I don’t think anyone there would be buy these. And I’ve never been able to try selling them any further than that. I wouldn’t know how. It’s always been Mr. Salman who looks after that.
Kanjira
- Sounds like he’s your parent or something.
She glances around, confused by how run-down the place is. It’s nothing like she imagined.
Kanjira
- And these things … I’ve seen outsiders buying them with little cars. They paid loads of rupees!
Tara
- Please, girl. Don’t say things like that. I don’t want to be some fancy artist. I just want to do my work quietly and be happy with what I have. You have your arcane skills; I know you will succeed with whatever you put your mind to.
- As long as we meet the quota, we’ll have enough to eat … *cough*
*knock*
It comes across more like a battering ram than a polite knock.
Before Tara can stand up, the visitor throws the door open, marching in with open disrespect.
Young Master Salman
- Has Rahul’s family delivered their share yet?
A few burly hired men stand behind him, blocking the door behind him.
Tara
- S-Sorry, so sorry …
Young Master Salman
- Hurry it up! You’ve already delayed our delivery for many days! Once again you spit on my father’s generosity with excuse after excuse.
- If you fail to meet your quota today, you and your husband will need to find somewhere else to live! You won’t be abusing his kindness any longer!
Tara’s hands clench tightly as she nods, growing smaller and smaller with each bob of her head.
Young Master Salman
- Wait a second. Who’s this girl? And that filthy man?
Tara
- Uh, don’t worry, Young Master. They are just some lost travelers that stopped by to ask for directions!
Janardhan
- …
Young Master Salman goes pale immediately.
Young Master Salman
- Workers aren’t allowed to take strangers home! Especially not these two … filthy arcanists.
Kanjira
- …
She bites her tongue, sensing the fear of Auntie Tara.
The man approaches, sizing her up.
Young Master Salman
- I’ll be back later for the rest. You know what happens if you’re still short.
Thud!
The young man and his thugs turn away, and the girls’ pounding heart finally settles.
Tara
- You must leave, quick! If Young Master Salman reports this …
She hurriedly wraps up some flatbread and stuffs it into Kanjira’s pocket.
But Kanjira grabs Tara’s hand and slips a number of bills into her palm.
Tara
- What are you doing, child?
Kanjira
- Hehe. Maybe this will help you, Auntie. I want to be your first customer!
- Let’s go, Papa.
Janardhan
- Mhm.
Young Master Salman
- That’s the last one. Father could’ve just sent a servant to do this. Why make me run around?
- Hey, you two! I’m thirsty over here.
Servant I
- Yes, master. What do you need?
The young man reaches into his pocket to pull out some cash.
Young Master Salman
- …?
- Where’s my money?!
He frantically pats himself as if searching for a bullet wound.
Servant I
- Your jewelry’s gone too, master!
Servant II
- That girl from Tara’s house! When she brushed past you …
Servant I
- I saw their caravan parked not far from here!
Kanjira
- Hehehe.
She admires the stolen wallet and jewelry, grinning with pride.
Janardhan
- You realize if you’re caught, this’ll drag a whole lot more people down with you. This is serious.
- Kid, you’ve really stirred up a mess.
His pace quickens, desperate to put as much distance behind them as possible.
Kanjira
- What trouble? Punji’s in and out like a ghost! By the time they check their empty pockets, we’ll be long gone!
Janardhan
- I don’t want to bet on it. If this hunk of junk would’ve started up any faster, I’d have left you behind already.
- Get out and push.
He waves her off dismissively before he climbs into the driver’s seat and once again attempts to fire up the engine.
Kanjira
- You’re not seriously gonna drive off, are you? ‘Cause if you are, I’m not pushing!
Janardhan
- Shut your mouth. Either trust me, or sit here and wait to die.
Kanjira
- Fine, fine! Hmph, jerk.
She presses her shoulder against the back of the caravan and starts pushing with all her might.
Servant I
- They’re right there!
Shouts echo from the distance.
Kanjira
- It’s fine! We made it!
- We’re already—
- What?
The caravan rolls forward, faster and faster, with no sign of stopping.
Kanjira
- Wait … wait!
She runs, gasping for breath, trying to catch up.
But the caravan dives down over the nearby rise, disappearing from her sight.
Suddenly, rough hands grab her shoulders and slam her to the ground.
Young Master Salman
- Hold her down! Break her fingers one by one!
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
Rough hands pin the girl down. Punji hisses from inside her sleeve.
Young Master Salman
- You dare stick your filthy hands into my pockets. Who are you? Just another low-born arcanist rat from Mor Pankh. What made you think you could steal from me on my own land?
- Huh?
Kanjira
- Pah! Shameless bastard! You lot take way more from these aunties and uncles than I ever did!
- You trick them, tell them their goods are worthless, and then resell them in other villages for a fortune!
- Those things they make—they could buy their own houses with the money you make off them!
- Open your eyes! Uncles, don’t tell me you don’t know this is happening?
She twists her head, trying to catch the eyes of the adults nearby.
But their faces remain blank, looking right through her. To them, she’s just another outsider.
A justified punishment. A righteous lesson.
Young Master Salman
- You little wretch. This is my family’s legal business. Go cry to the police if you want. But first, you’ll pay for your thievery.
- Hold her hand down, Chamar!
Servant I
- Yes, sir.
Kanjira’s pinned flat against the ground like a crab on a cutting board.
Ding—A knife slams into the dirt beside her hand.
Young Master Salman
- Shh, let’s start with the pinky, shall we?
The blade lowers slowly, like a guillotine inching toward her finger.
*thud*
Young Master Salman
- Ahhh—!
The knife flies from his hand as a deafening gunshot rings out, and blood pours from his palm.
Someone steps out from the bushes.
Janardhan
- Tch …
- And here I thought we were the worst kind of scum, but looks like rats can wear crowns too.
The servants scatter like cockroaches.
Kanjira grabs the fallen knife, then struggles up to her feet.
Kanjira
- Ha … haha … So you didn’t run after all?
Janardhan
- Hold the knife steady. Take the rest of his stuff, that necklace, you already have his bracelets, yeah? Hey, isn’t that earring of his real flashy too?
- Cut them all off.
The girl freezes.
Janardhan
- You forget what he was about to do to you, kid?
- Don’t waste time! Or would you rather wait till he’s a corpse?
Another bullet kicks up dust near her feet.
Kanjira
- …
Young Master Salman
- Please, I’m begging you—take everything—whatever you want!
Before she can move, the man grovels and frantically strips off every valuable thing he’s wearing, holding them out to her with both hands.
Young Master Salman
- It’s all yours! Take it!
Janardhan
- What? Are you feeling guilty all of a sudden? You already robbed him once, what’s the difference?
- This filthy bastard was about to chop off your fingers—
Kanjira
- Stop yelling at me! I know!
She turns her head away, fighting the disgust rising inside her, still refusing to take the groveling man’s offerings.
Janardhan
- You think you’re doing something wrong? Kid, after all the hell you’ve been through on the streets, you should’ve buried that soft heart ages ago.
- Theft, robbery, even murder—that’s not just here. That’s the whole damn world.
- Every day, people get tossed from their homes, starve to death, die sick and forgotten in some filthy alley.
- I could’ve put a bullet straight through his skull, but compared to the way people like him strip others of their dignity and leave them to starve and crawl to their deaths … I’m practically a saint.
Heavy footsteps echo from the road ahead.
Servant I
- They’re over here!
Janardhan
- Tsk.
He loses the last of his patience, turns, and disappears into the trees without another word.
Kanjira
- Wait for me!
(Lakeside)
Pushing their way through the dense forest, they reach a quiet spot.
Kanjira
- My caravan! You parked it this close?
The caravan sits by the lake, a few birds resting peacefully on the roof.
Janardhan
- If I’d slowed down to wait for you, we’d both be dead by now.
He checks on his gun; it had shifted in his pocket.
Janardhan
- With this thing, I can make them behave. But now I’m thinking I might as well leave you behind as bait.
- Most important thing is, we still need to get this piece of junk out of here.
Kanjira
- But, why did you come back for me? I mean, you could’ve just left.
Janardhan
- I just didn’t want them pinning a body on me. With the way things work around here, you can’t trust them not to kill you and lay the blame on me.
- Get in, kid.
- We need to hit the highway before sunset.
- Huff. I know a place where we can lay low for the night.
- And here’s some advice. Don’t let that soft heart of yours get you killed.
Kanjira
- …
Janardhan
- What’s the matter? Get in, idiot.
She stands silent in the fading light.
After a moment, she lifts her head.
Kanjira
- I know a lot of bad people. I’m one of those “bad kids” Ms. Sherjah always talks about.
- I steal mangoes from Uncle Sinha’s garden. I trick dumb tourists out of their money. I pick pockets and take money from those drunk uncles that don’t know any better … I’ve been caught, and I’ve been beaten. A lot.
- Maybe you’re right, but I … I don’t want to agree with you.
- I think I’d rather be bad, but not that bad. That’s enough for me.
Janardhan
- Tch. Whatever kid, see ya!
He rolls the caravan onto the highway without a second glance.
This time, Kanjira reacts fast, chasing after it and leaping on without hesitation.
Kanjira
- Ah! Next time, I’ll make you run behind!
Officer
- The mud’s still soft. Those tire tracks are fresh. They’re not far.
Officer II
- Janardhan’s always been careful. But now it seems like he’s slipping. Doesn’t add up. You sure this isn’t just some lookalike?
- Maybe that dumb rich kid filed a false report just to cover his own losses.
Another officer speaks in a low, worried voice.
Officer II
- Looks like a simple robbery. Nothing big. We can hand this off to the local precinct. No point wasting time.
- A murderer with a price on his head, and he risks everything over a few bills?
- How does that make sense? It wouldn’t be worth it.
The lead officer straightens up, walks over, and claps him on the shoulder.
Officer
- It’s worth it.
- Maybe the girl he took is worth even more … some how?
- We just haven’t figured that part out yet.
He strokes his mustache, eyes glinting like he’s spotted a fish nearing the hook.
Officer
- Won’t be long now, boy.
- We wait until the rat runs out of holes.
(TO BE CONTINUED…)
The lone caravan rolls down the vast, empty road.
Janardhan
- Kid, you do realize how ridiculous your plan is, right?
- Running to the far end of the country over a missing person poster? You’re only headed for disaster. What makes you think you’ll get anything out of it?
- All that sneaking and thieving back in Mor Pankh should’ve taught you better.
- “Naïve”—that’s a word for a luxury only rich folks get to afford. So tell me why a street rat who’s already had her fair share of knocks still wants to play dumb?
Kanjira puffs out her cheeks in frustration.
Kanjira
- Hmph. Not even a beard on your chin, and already preaching like some old man.
- What do you even know about me? I’ve done plenty of “good deeds” in Mor Pankh, the kind even Ms. Sherjah would approve of!
- You self-important grump!
As she fires back, the caravan begins to slow down. A few more bumps and it stutters to a stop on the roadside.
Kanjira
- W-What now?! I didn’t say anything that bad!
The man behind the wheel stays silent for a long moment before turning around.
Janardhan
- No …
He rubs his forehead and sighs.
Janardhan
- The damn thing’s busted.
As he steps down, it’s clear the tire has gone flat. It’s sagging over the ground like melted ice cream.
A sharp stone lodged squarely in its thin treads.
Janardhan
- The place we’re headed isn’t far. Get out and push.
Kanjira
- What?! No way! Not again!
- Ugh, should’ve just taken Uncle Sinha’s donkey. One carrot and a stick, and it would’ve hauled me straight there without all this nonsense.
(Vagrant Camp)
Janardhan
- Hey, this way—push it inside!
Kanjira
- Stupid jerk. Soon enough, I’m going to kick you out of my caravan!
She groans and pushes the caravan into the unfamiliar camp.
Patchy, bright-colored tents abound, cobbled together from scraps of cloth and stitched-up rags.
A coalition of drifters and outcasts.
Kanjira
- Is this place safe?
Countless wary eyes fix on the newcomer.
Until—
Janardhan
- Alright, calm down, boys.
A man steps out from the shadows at the sound of the familiar voice.
Scavenger Singh
- Janardhan? You old fox. I figured you’d be rotting in a cell by now! What’s got you crawling back here?
- Let me guess, stirred up some trouble again and need a new place to hide?
The suspicious looks grow heavier. Whispers ripple through the crowd.
Scavenger Singh
- Well, you’re not welcome here!
*thud*
A bottle flies from the shadows and smashes at Janardhan’s feet, soaking his pants.
He doesn’t even flinch, standing his ground.
He tilts his head back, not looking at Singh but calling loudly into the crowd.
Janardhan
- Batia! I came here seeking your help!
- You know better than anyone what I’ve done! I deserve punishment, fine! But I won’t take the blame for crimes I didn’t commit!
- And this time, I’m not just here for myself!
Scavenger Singh
- Don’t make me say it again—get out!
Singh lunges forward, shoving Janardhan before launching into a barrage of fists.
Janardhan opens his hands, absorbing the blows as he lets the man land punch after punch.
Kanjira
- Hey! What are you doing?! Let him go! We’re leaving, okay? Who even wants to stay in this dump?!
She tries to pull Janardhan up but gets pushed aside.
Janardhan
- Listen. I’ve never begged anyone for anything. I don’t care what happens to me, but tonight you’ll let this girl stay! For that, I’ll pay any price. Go on, hit me all you like.
- Sorry, kid. This is what I owe you.
- After this, we’re square.
Kanjira
- …
Janardhan
- Come on, I can take it! Hit me!
Singh lets go of Janardhan’s collar, a curious grin spreading across his face. He picks up a metal rod from the ground.
Scavenger Singh
- Let’s see how much you’re really willing to pay.
*thud*
A gunshot rips through the night.
Janardhan
- W-What? My gun?!
Scavenger Singh
- Heh. Easy now, let’s all stay calm.
Kanjira stands there, the heavy gun weighing her small wrist down as she shakes.
Kanjira
- Back off!
- Listen. I don’t know who you people are, but Janardhan …
- He’s my driver, and I won’t let you bully him!
The air becomes tense and still. The crowd steps back, giving the girl a wide berth.
Then all at once they stand still, not daring to make a move.
???
- That’s enough. Put the gun down, girl.
- Janardhan, I accept your terms.
The restless crowd goes silent.
Janardhan
- Batia?
Scavenger Singh
- Here, take it. This can of lentils is the last we’ve got. Your bed’s set up next to that wreck of a van.
- Heh. Miss Batia, I’m out of here.
Kanjira opens the can of lentils, eagerly scooping some out onto her shoulder.
Punji slips out of her sleeve and starts licking the food.
Kanjira
- Punji. You must be starving. Thanks for sticking with me all this way.
- You guys aren’t really so terrible after all. Why didn’t you just talk nicely from the start? Don’t worry. I won’t forget your tip.
- I’m starving! Mm, chomp chomp, so good!
Batia
- Heh, slow down, child.
Janardhan
- *cough* Thank you, Batia. And … sorry for the girl. I really didn’t expect her to grab my gun.
Batia
- You’re a better man than you know, Janardhan.
- That girl reminds me a lot of you—so stubborn and wild.
- What you’re doing for her is good. That’s something I’ve never seen in you. It’s something most of the others wouldn’t believe.
Janardhan
- I never did those things. You know that.
Batia
- Truth only means anything to the law, Janardhan—no, not even there. It’s how they feel that matters.
- My job is to keep everyone here safe.
- And you … you’re no longer one of us.
She dusts off her clothes and stands up.
Batia
- Singh checked your van. It’s not just the tires. It won’t be fixed anytime soon.
Kanjira
- What!?
Batia
- You can wait, but you won’t be welcome here.
- I can have someone fix it for you. You can come back for it later.
- But tomorrow …
She points beyond the camp.
Batia
- Before dawn, follow the eastern river through the woods. You’ll find train tracks.
- There’ll be a train heading toward the Coromandel Coast.
She turns to leave but stops, remembering something.
Batia
- Oh, and Janardhan, see me in my tent before you leave.
- There are things you need to know.
Janardhan
- …
She walks away.
Janardhan gets up and moves to follow.
Kanjira
- Wait. Janardhan.
She pulls out the items she stole earlier and looks at him hesitantly.
Kanjira
- Your friend seems powerful. Could you ask her to protect Auntie Tara’s family back at the plantation?
- I’m worried they’ll be in trouble because of me. I’ll give all this back if that helps, or even offer it as payment, whatever it takes.
Janardhan
- …
- I’ll tell Batia. She’ll handle it her way.
He takes the wallet and jewelry, stands up, and walks away.
The night falls over a pauper’s kingdom.
The campfire crackles. People nibble on bananas and tamarinds, speaking in hushed voices.
Here, far from the world’s chaos, everything feels humble and pure.
Their clothes are patched and worn. The pots and bowls are dented but scrubbed clean.
In the silence, an old man with white hair and a long beard moves closer to the fire.
Ascetic
- I’ve heard you’re traveling far, child. The prophet told me this will be a lonely journey.
- Fate brought us together this night. Here, child.
Kanjira
- Really, Grandpa? Are you giving us some canned food or maybe some rupees?
Ascetic
- Haha, something even better.
He pulls a small handful of sacred ash from his sagging pocket and gently smears it across Kanjira’s curious face.
Strange Girl
- Are they staying, Mama?
Woman
- No, they’re heading to the far end of this land soon. Like migratory birds, they’ll cross forests and rivers, through heat and cold.
- It’s a hard road ahead.
Strange Girl
- She’s so brave.
The little girl opens her box of treasures. Inside, wrapped peppermint candies sparkle in the moonlight like diamonds.
Kanjira
- Huh, is this for me?
Strange Girl
- Yeah. If you’re ever in the desert, just suck on these and you’ll feel cool again.
- I hope you find your family soon.
Kanjira
- Thank you.
Kanjira lowers her head shyly, taking the gift with both hands.
She’s used to kindness with strings attached, kindness that stings.
But this … this is something different; it makes her feel shy, like she doesn’t deserve it.
She nods and decides to give something back to this new world.
Kanjira
- When I reach the sea, I’ll find you some pretty seashells and bring them back for you.
Strange Girl
- Okay, then we’ll meet again. When I’m better, I want to ride in your caravan too!
She returns to her mother, resting her head while watching the fire.
The flames crackle, and the leaves whisper with the night breeze.
Strange Girl
- Mama, my head feels itchy.
Woman
- Okay.
Her mother gently runs her fingers through her hair, slow and soft.
Like stroking a young creature.
Strange Girl
- Tell me a story.
Woman
- Of course, my child.
- Once, on the far side of the Sarayu River, there was a girl in a sari edged with gold, with thick, glossy black hair …
Her soft voice mingles with the flickering fire and swaying shadows.
Kanjira lies down, her back to them, fists clenched tight.
Kanjira
- …
Warm tears well up, her chest tight.
But she promised herself—once she left the village, she wouldn’t cry again.
So she shuts her eyes and refuses to open them.
Her ears, red from the wind, still listen to each sound.
And the night grows deeper.
???
- Wake up, wake up, kid.
Kanjira
- Huh?
She rubs her eyes and rises up from her cardboard bed.
Janardhan
- Time to go.
Janardhan
- Hah hah. I gotta admit, kid, you played your part pretty well. That was some fine acting.
Kanjira
- What do you mean? I don’t understand.
Janardhan
- …
- Come on, you don’t really think I’m going to take you around to try and find your parents, do you? Once we’re on that train, we go our separate ways.
- All that talk was just to soften up those bleeding hearts back there. Otherwise, we’d be starving tonight, or worse, some wild animal would’ve dragged us off!
She looks stunned for a moment, bites her lip, before returning to a calm-looking stare.
Kanjira
- Mhm …
Janardhan notices the shift in her expression.
Janardhan
- Hey, helping each other’s fine, but we’re not friends, alright?
- I’m saying this so things don’t get messy later—you get that, right?
He stops and holds out his hand, like a merchant striking a deal.
Janardhan
- We can still work together on the train, but you have to promise me one thing.
- If either of us gets caught, the other has the right to cut loose and run. No hard feelings.
- You do get that I don’t actually have to take care of you at all, right?
There’s a reluctant look in his eyes—the same look she’s seen on the faces of slippery street merchants.
Janardhan
- Deal?
Kanjira
- Deal. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.
From the tracks comes a faint rumble.
In the distance, a heavy train, puffing white smoke, barrels toward them.
Just before jumping onto the train, Kanjira holds her breath and shouts toward him.
Kanjira
- But … did you really kill someone?
Janardhan leaps onto the train as it chugs forward, swinging his full weight up with the weight of his backpack.
Janardhan
- Of course, kid.
- Where do you think all this money came from? Did you think it sprung up from a field? Or that I polished some rich bastard’s shoes for it?
He sets down the backpack and reaches out his hand to her.
Even as she runs, there’s a moment of hesitation.
She meets his eyes, trying to see through the murk to whatever soul might be hiding behind them.
Kanjira
- …
It almost seems as though the train will pass and she’ll be left behind.
Then she takes his hand.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Passenger Car, Train)
Critter Merchant
- Ladies and gentlemen, these young critters, a thousand times cheaper than NewBabel’s, are the best guardians for your home!
- Specially bred by our top caretakers! You won’t find a better deal anywhere!
The merchant holds a confused critter high above his head, pitching it to the passengers as he passes them by.
The carriage is packed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with sweat and the smell of critters in their cages.
A woman in a faded sari carries a baby strapped to her back. Barefoot men cling tightly to the entrance railings.
Children dart this way and that between the legs of adults, playing hide-and-seek and dodging would-be scoldings.
Kanjira
- Wow. There are so many people here. Everyone is trying to be somewhere else … somewhere new …
Janardhan
- Staying stuck in one place for so long makes you the rare creature, kid.
- Nobody wants to stay put forever. Merchants, students, beggars, ascetics … idiots or clever little pickpockets—everyone wants a peek outside their own little world. Otherwise, how would they ever figure out where they really stand?
- People who never leave home never figure out who they really are.
Teacher
- Excuse me, sir.
Janardhan
- …
Teacher
- Stay close, kids! Eyes forward! No wandering off or stopping!
A teacher raises her hand high, leading a group of children into the carriage.
Student
- Miss, wait … M-My wallet’s gone! My ticket was in there!
A boy digs through his pockets, calling out for help.
But in the chaos of the train, his small voice is swallowed whole.
Student
- It should be here. I swear I put it in my pocket!
He fumbles helplessly, unaware that his teacher and classmates have already left him behind.
Kanjira
- Punji? You saw what happened. That man took it?
The little snake hisses softly by her ear.
Kanjira looks toward the direction of its flicking tongue. A hunched man in a long coat stands there, not at all looking like a thief.
But she steps forward anyway.
Thief
- What’s the matter, kid? Starving so bad you’ve lost your mind? Be smart and back off. This one’s my catch.
Before she even speaks, he already figures out who she is.
Kanjira
- No. I just want the wallet back. And the train ticket. You can keep the money.
Thief
- Heh … And what if I say no? You out here trying to be a saint while picking pockets yourself?
(Battle)
More eyes gather, the crowd thickens, and escape looks harder by the second.
Thief
- Tch. Damn it! Of all the rotten luck—had to run into a dumb little brat.
He tosses the wallet aside and vanishes into the crowd.
Kanjira steps up and taps the lone student on the shoulder.
Kanjira
- Hey, kid. This yours? Looked like it fell.
Student
- Uh! Thank you!
He thanks her but then glances down at her dirty elbows and scraped knees. His guard shoots right back up.
Kanjira
- Heh, Punji’s eyes never miss a thing—
Student
- I-I have to go!
He runs without another word, a mix of fear and prejudice rattles in his voice.
Kanjira
- Hey … wait—!
That’s when the man finally walks over.
Janardhan
- You do realize, the moment he tells his teacher, they’ll pin whatever money’s missing in that wallet on you, right?
- Thought you were smarter than that.
- You know how the embers survive in a fire?
He lights a cigarette and stares out the window.
Janardhan
- They hide under the wood that’s burning faster.
Kanjira
- I just wanted to tell him … his book fell …
She picks up the slim book from the floor and flips through it, eyes wide at the dense letters and bright pictures.
A hand snatches the book away.
Janardhan
- You’re gonna see a lot more of this world, kid.
- But you won’t learn anything useful with what’s written in these things. They just make you soft, fill your head with sweet little lies about how things ought to be.
- To trust things that won’t protect you and to believe someone will always take care of you if you just behave.
- Pretty words about justice, cooperation, and sacrifice. But words don’t keep your belly full.
- Open your eyes. Walk the earth with your own feet. And in the end, let your own gut tell you what’s real—and what’s just another lie.
He shoves the book back into her chest, dismissing it like old rubbish.
Kanjira lowers her head but then lifts it again.
Kanjira
- So … then you can read?!
Janardhan
- …
He raises his fingers to his temples and shakes his head with pure exasperation.
Kanjira
- Ms. Sherjah was teaching us back home, but I could never get the words to make sense. Can you tell me what this story’s about?
Janardhan
- …
He snatches the book back, flicks his cigarette out the window, and crouches down.
Janardhan
- Promise me this—you’re done “playing hero” on this train. No more trouble.
Kanjira
- I promise!
Despite the noise of the train, she listens carefully to the story.
Janardhan
- “There was once a tyrant king who decreed that anyone who could take a golden peacock feather in the palace without force would be granted wealth and glory.”
- “There’s a clever cobbler named Kabir. He weaves singing peacocks from straw to lure the guards away.”
- “And then he uses grass rope soaked in turmeric to measure the golden peacock’s height.”
- “Three days later, when the Tyrant King shows off the peacock, Kabir publicly proves the golden peacock’s tail feathers are three fingers longer than the royal emblem allows—a crime of overstepping royal authority.”
- “So the Tyrant King is forced to break the golden peacock in front of everyone. Kabir picks up a fallen feather and says, ‘See, king, now, I have your feather.’”
- “And in the end, the cobbler wins the Tyrant King’s treasure with his wits, trades it for food and shelter, and saves the poor from hunger.”
He lets out a mocking laugh.
Janardhan
- You know how that fool dies? Three years later, a new king takes the throne and wants his treasure back. But the idiot refuses to say where it is, so they tie him to some horrible torture rack—
- The real world never matches the stories.
- Only idiots believe in things like that. Keeping your own hide safe and being free—that’s all that really matters.
Kanjira examines the illustrations in silence, chewing over his words and the story’s like a plate of fish, searching tenderly with each bite for some thin sliver of wisdom like a bone.
What Janardhan said matches everything she’s ever known, yet some stubborn part of her resists, in a part of her buried deep under layers of calluses.
The carriage, already noisy, grows noisier. People stand up all at once, pressing toward the windows.
Kanjira
- What’s going on, Janardhan?
Still mourning the cobbler’s fate, she doesn’t sound curious—just wary.
Janardhan
- *sigh*
Looking into those wide, innocent eyes, he turns away, uneasy … and somehow guilty.
Janardhan
- Fine, over here, kid.
He crouches near the window, ignoring the grime on the floor, and offers his back.
Janardhan
- Climb up.
Kanjira
- Hm?
She thinks for a second, then gleefully climbs up his back, just barely reaching the window frame.
Her chin rests against the rusted sill. The air tastes sweet and raw, full of green and living scents.
The wind roars, loud enough to drown everything else out.
The train shudders hard as it rounds a bend, wet air rushing through the broken windows.
Fighting against the wind, Kanjira forces open her eyes—
Kanjira
- …!
A rainforest ripples under the folds of the wind. The tracks cut through waves and waves of wide tropic leaves.
The green tide that ebbs with the wind.
A distant waterfall roars, and birds call as they fly above them.
Her mouth opens, words caught on her tongue.
She feels like a sailor seeing land for the first time—ready to shout from the mast.
And then, like greeting a brand-new world …
She lets out a raw and primal cry.
Kanjira
- Waaahhh—waaahhh—
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Train Station)
Officer I
- Keep your eyes on every exit! When that train stops, nothing gets through—not even a rat!
Officers
- Yes, sir!
Officer I
- I’ll board the train myself. He isn’t getting away this time.
He pats the pistol at his waist and nods to his partner.
Officer I
- Get ready. He won’t come quietly.
Officer II
- Damn it—we don’t want him dead.
- If he dies, the money …
He glances around and lowers his voice.
Officer II
- If he’s not carrying it, this whole thing’s a waste. Isn’t it?
Officer I
- Of course.
They lead two snarling police dogs, eyes locked on the slowing train.
They are ready to pounce.
The noise grows louder. Consciousness sharpens—
(Freight Car, Train)
Kanjira
- Mmm, ugh! Why’s it so loud this early?
She rubs her eyes and sits up from the floor. Janardhan crouches by the window, peeking outside.
Janardhan
- Something’s off. It’s way too quiet out there.
- One of those bastards must’ve tipped them off. The cops probably have the whole station locked down.
He crouches lower, locking eyes with Kanjira.
Janardhan
- I’m jumping off and heading for the jungle. You’re on your own from here, understand?
- They probably don’t know about you, kid. But if they ask, you never even heard of me, got it? Just play dumb.
Murmurs spread from the car ahead, and then marching feet. Together with a whiny voice.
Student
- That filthy little pickpocket was right here! Said she “found” my wallet!
- There was some dirty tramp with her too. He was carrying a bag!
The voices get closer. Both of them hold their breath—
Teacher
- He wouldn’t lie, Officer. If he says he saw something, I believe him.
Officer I
- Thank you for your help, ma’am.
- Rex, sniff the wallet.
He holds the student’s wallet out to the police dog.
Dog
- Woof! Woof!
The dog’s wet nose twitches. It turns and leads the officers straight toward the cargo car.
Janardhan
- Damn that heartless little brat.
Kanjira
- I’m sorry. It’s my fault.
Janardhan
- Forget it. Right now, we’re tied together. If I run and you get caught …
Kanjira
- So what?! I’m way smarter than you think. Even if they catch me, I won’t say a word. What can they really do to me?
He shakes his head.
Janardhan
- They can do anything, kid.
- And you do know you’re helping a murderer, right?
She tilts her head up, staring right into his eyes.
Kanjira
- No, you’re not. I don’t see that. I don’t see it in your eyes.
- That night, I saw you. You wrapped up some money and tucked it into that girl’s candy box.
His eyes go wide. He freezes.
Kanjira
- You stomp around like an elephant—I heard you!
He turns away.
Janardhan
- So what? You think that means you know me? Forget it. Believe what you want; I don’t have to prove anything.
Student
- Hey. Why’s that mutt sniffing farther away? I bet they’re still here, just hiding or something!
- And those officers are talking about some package … and bribes … I don’t know what they’re doing.
- Well … then, maybe I’ll just track down those dirty thieves myself. Bet they’re just hiding near the garbage.
The door creaks open—
Janardhan
- ?!
The police dog catches the scent.
Thief
- Officer, come on, cut me some slack! I’ll give the kid his money back, alright.
Officer I
- Damn it. This isn’t who we’re looking for.
He slams the baton hard into the thief’s stomach.
Thief
- *vomiting*
Officer I
- Where did you see them? Which way did they go?
- Did the man have a bag with him?
Blood streams from the thief’s nose, mixing with snot and tears.
Thief
- T-They went that way. I don’t know anything else! Please, stop hitting me!
The thief collapses to his knees, trembling, and points toward the cargo hold.
The officers leave the man behind and inch toward the cargo carriage.
Outside, a chorus of barking erupts.
And a fist bangs hard against the window.
Officer II
- Get out here, boys!
- Janardhan’s jumped the damn train! He’s got hostages with him!
- Damn it, he’s already in the jungle! Call everyone in from the station!
Janardhan
- Hah … hah … Move, damn it!
He kicks the crying student hard, sending him sprawling into the sticky mud.
Student
- *sob*
Kanjira
- Stop it, Janardhan. Don’t hit him again.
Janardhan
- Back off, kid! He’s the reason we’re in this mess!
He shoves Kanjira aside and points his knife toward her.
Janardhan
- Not another word out of you! I’m all out of kindness, so not another word!
- Not until we’re safe!
The jungle grows thicker around them. Wet leaves brush over them as they go.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
(Chandigarh Police Station)
Janardhan sits slumped in a chair, bound tight. Blood dripping from his nose, over cracked lips, and through his teeth, mixing with spit at the corner of his mouth.
Janardhan
- Heh … heh …
The new interrogator wipes blood off his knuckles with delicate care.
Officer II
- You bit my partner’s ear off, Janardhan. That means I don’t have to play nice anymore.
- I don’t have his patience.
- Let’s review and clear your head a bit, Janardhan.
- We found you in the jungle with a kidnapped student and an empty bag.
- But that girl is nowhere to be found. And that student is still unconscious—hasn’t said a word.
The interrogator narrows his eyes.
Officer II
- So … want to explain that bullet in your shoulder?
- You’re going to tell me what happened, and then you’re going to tell me where that money is.
Janardhan
- *cough* I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you everything!
- First of all, it was that dumb brat from the train that shot me.
Janardhan
- Stop running, both of you!
- Or I’ll shoot. I’ll shoot you both! See if I care!?
They kept running toward the river, and I was right behind them, dragging the bag.
Kanjira
- We have to cross! He’s carrying too much—he can’t keep up!
Student
- B-But I can’t swim!
Kanjira
- Shut your eyes! Just kick your legs and move! Don’t think—just swim!
I chased after them, but the bag was too heavy and the current was too strong.
I was close. So close I could almost grab the brat’s arm.
Janardhan
- What? My bag—
Just as I was about to grab him, the bag snagged on a rotten log.
Janardhan
- Of all the rotten—Urghh!
I yanked at the bag, prying it free, but as I turned back …
I felt the weight of my gun was missing.
Student
- Don’t come any closer! I’ll shoot. Don’t think I won’t, you thief!
He’s just a kid—there’s not a chance he has the guts to pull that trigger.
So I took another step—
*thud*
Janardhan
- *cough* I couldn’t chase them after that, so I just dragged myself back to shore.
- Didn’t even notice my bag was torn open.
- And just like that … all that cash—everything—washed away in the river.
Officer II
- …
Janardhan
- Then I found a tree. Something to rest up against. When I came to—*cough*
- Well …
Officer II
- You think I’m some kind of idiot? You’re trying to tell me all that money is in the belly of some fish out there?
- Your story stinks. For one thing, we heard three shots.
Janardhan
- Heh … Well, that kid couldn’t aim for s**t.
Officer II
- We could still work something out, Janardhan. You sure you want to keep selling me this bulls**t?
Janardhan
- Heh … heh …
*knock*
Young Officer
- Sir … there’s a crowd outside. It’s a whole bunch of vagrants and now some reporters. They’re blocking the street. It’s turning into a real scene.
Officer II
- Hm?
Young Officer
- That kid woke up.
- Also, a woman named Batia is here. She’s asked to meet with the chief.
- He wants you in his office.
(TO BE CONTINUED …)
Rainforest, five hours before Janardhan’s capture—
Kanjira
- Here. You must be dying of thirst.
She lifts the canteen and pours water into the boy’s mouth, his hands still tied tight.
Student
- *splutter*
The boy gulps it down fast, but the canteen is snatched away.
Janardhan
- Keep that for us! Don’t waste it on him!
Student
- *sob*
Janardhan
- Don’t start with me! Remember, I didn’t ask you to tag along. You were the one that wouldn’t leave. Now we’re here. Like what you see?
Janardhan grabs the boy’s hair, jerking his head up.
Janardhan
- Move it, kid! There might still be a chance to get out of here before the circle to the other side of the jungle.
- We cross that river and put some distance behind us, then we’ll lose them for good.
- But we’ve still got to hack our way through this bug-infested jungle before we ever see a road.
Kanjira
- Promise me … once we cross this river, we let him go?
Janardhan stops in his tracks.
Janardhan
- Do I need to repeat myself? You can leave anytime you want. Go ahead.
- In fact, I really don’t want anything to do with you. So, how about you do both of us a favor and stay out of my way!
- But this little runt isn’t going anywhere. I know his kind. He won’t just let this go.
Student
- I-I … I swear I won’t tell them anything!
- Just run!
- Leave me here, please!
Janardhan
- No, brat. You’re coming with me. You were the one that wanted to find me, weren’t you?
- Well done. You’ve found me. All by yourself, happy now?
He slaps the boy’s head from behind with a rough palm.
Kanjira
- Please, Janardhan, let him go. It won’t do any good to drag him along with us.
- If we don’t, they’ll just have one more thing to pin on you.
Janardhan
- Ha! Pin it on me? You think they’re only looking for me now? They’ve already made up their minds!
- They’ll beat us both to a pulp, bury us under a pile of fake crimes, and call it justice!
- So how about you stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourself! If you don’t believe me, go ahead, run back and find out.
Kanjira
- …
She’s never seen Janardhan like this before.
His face is twisted, almost monstrous.
Kanjira
- Hm?
She notices a sharp stone suddenly appear in the boy’s bound hands.
He had picked it up, likely when he fell before.
The boy catches her gaze and offers a look of desperation.
Student
- Please, don’t say anything.
Kanjira
- Janardhan!
Janardhan
- What now? Do I need to kick you like some lost puppy to get you to finally leave?
She takes a deep breath.
Kanjira
- We need to rest for a bit. The river’s right ahead.
- If we try to cross it without a plan, the current will sweep us all away before we even reach the middle!
- We should check the water first. Who knows how deep it could be?
Janardhan
- …
He hesitates, then nods in agreement.
Janardhan
- Stay put. I’ll check the water.
He moves toward the edge of the river. Eyes darting, breath still heaving in his chest.
He takes a soft but certain step into the water, feeling the current against his legs.
Then he looks across to the far bank, measuring the distance.
Janardhan
- The current’s not too bad, but we’ll need a rope!
- Gotta cut some vines for that.
- Hey … you two!
He turns back and sees only Kanjira.
He scans the brush, catching sight of the boy as he runs back into the dense forest.
Janardhan
- Ah! I’m a damned fool.
He pulls out his gun and fires a warning shot high into the air.
The first of three.
Student
- *weep*
A bullet whistles through the sky. The boy freezes.
Janardhan lowers his gun and strides over, grabbing a rotten branch off the ground.
Kanjira
- Janardhan! Stop it. Just let us go. I’ll stay behind with him. We’ll tell them that you disappeared.
She grabs his arm and pulls hard, trying to stop him from moving forward.
Janardhan
- …
Janardhan hesitates for a moment, then shakes her off coldly.
She staggers to her feet only to catch a heavy blow from the back of his hand.
Kanjira
- Ugh!
She collapses to the ground, the taste of blood rising in her mouth, crisp metallic scents filling her nose.
Janardhan’s eyes are cold as he stares back at her. Empty and unrecognizable.
Janardhan
- Heh, you still don’t get it, do you, kid? You still think you can make this work.
- Haven’t you figured out yet what your kindness gets you?
- You think it will change things, but it won’t; all it does is let other people walk all over you.
Kanjira
- He shouldn’t be dragged into this!
- I … I know you’ve given everything you had to people, and all it brought you was pain … I know something inside of you is broken, and you hate this world …
- I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I know it must have been awful. I know you don’t want to care anymore, and maybe I can’t change that.
- But … maybe things aren’t as hopeless as you think. All I know is, if you’re really going to take this kid hostage, then you’ll be as bad as they say you are!
- I don’t think you want to hurt us. I know that’s not you. That can’t be you!
There’s no shift in his empty eyes as he laughs. It’s a venomous and sickly sort of laugh.
Then, he turns toward the boy still frozen in fear.
He raises the thick branch, ready to swing it down on the boy.
*thud*
The second of three shots.
Birds scatter into the sky.
He sways to the side, revealing the boy lying on the ground.
And blood seeps from a fresh wound.
Janardhan
- You little pickpocket …
He collapses to his knees.
She trembles, her hands aching from the kick of the gun.
Kanjira
- I’m sorry. Janardhan, I’m so sorry.
She rushes over and guides him over to a nearby tree.
Kanjira
- I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know how to stop this.
Janardhan
- Heh, you might make for an even better marksman than a pickpocket. *cough*
Kanjira
- I’m sorry. I’m sorry!
She presses her small hands against the wound, but the blood keeps flowing.
Janardhan sighs deeply, staring up at the sky.
Janardhan
- *cough* Listen to me. You did the right thing, kid—You hear me? You did the right thing.
- I wasn’t thinking straight. You’re right. That kid’s innocent.
- I’m glad you ended this before it went any further.
Footsteps close in from the distance.
Kanjira
- Y-you weren’t really going to hit him, were you?
Janardhan
- *cough* Still think you can figure me out, don’t you?
- No time left for that. You have to go now.
Kanjira
- I’m not leaving! I’m staying here with you!
Janardhan
- Your parents are out there waiting for you.
Kanjira
- Then we have to leave together!
Janardhan
- *cough* No … No!
Kanjira
- Come on, please. You can lean on me!
She tries to lift him, gritting her teeth, but he pushes her away.
He reaches into his bag.
Janardhan
- Take this.
He presses a heavy leather pouch into her arms.
Janardhan
- Promise me. Use what’s inside. Keep moving.
- Keep going until you find what you’re looking for, until you find your answer.
He shoves her hands away and pushes her toward the river.
Kanjira
- But what about you?!
- No, what are you doing?!
He’s gotten the gun from her again. He waves her away, leaving her with no other option.
Janardhan
- It’s time to end this.
He raises the gun toward the sky and pulls the trigger.
The third shot.
Officer I
- Over there! The shot came from over there!
Dog
- Woof woof!
Janardhan
- Now, you won’t look back.
- Run! Get the hell out of here!
- If you don’t want everything you’ve done to be for nothing, if you don’t want this journey to mean nothing—run!
- Trust me. Once they’re gone, circle back toward the station.
- Then, keep running.
The police dogs close in.
She wipes her tears and starts to move.
Kanjira
- I promise you, Janardhan!
- I’ll find Batia! I’ll come back for you! You’ll be okay; you have to be!
Janardhan
- Just get the hell out of here!
She wipes her tears with her sleeve before finally forcing her legs to move again.
In the distance, a train whistle cuts through the air.
Her figure melts into the jungle, swallowed by the trees.
The dogs are getting closer.
Janardhan
- Heh …
- That’s my girl.
Batia
- Janardhan, you need to know something. A pair of elderly folks came to see me at the camp earlier.
- They recognized the girl. They know her name and where she comes from.
Janardhan
- ?!
- You’re saying they’re her parents?
- Then why the hell didn’t they come see her themselves?!
She doesn’t show blame in her eyes, only the kind of calm that comes from carrying too much regret.
Batia
- It’s not that simple. They’re in a lot of trouble now, and they can’t risk dragging a child into it.
- Maybe that isn’t the right thing to do. Maybe they’ll regret it. But I will respect their wishes.
- Listen, I can’t tell you more, but you need to understand—seeking the truth will cost far more than you imagine.
- You need to convince her to turn back. There’s nothing for her out there.
The man stands, defiant.
Janardhan
- I’m not doing that.
- She’s stronger than you think. And this—this is her journey.
- What she’s searching for is bigger than any answer you people can offer.
Batia
- But it’s pointless.
Janardhan
- It’s nothing close to that, Batia.
- There’s more to this world than what you’re willing to see.
A train whistle slices through the morning mist. The wind howls. Black smoke rolls over the treetops.
At the end of the train, a small hand grips the rear guardrail.
The train picks up speed. The tracks rattle. Birds scatter from the trees.
Newborn sunlight streams through as the train bursts out of the tunnel, flooding the world in light.
(THE END)