47
BATTLE OF THE STATION
[At that time there exist no topics on the subject of God, even at the residences of saints and respectable gentlemen. Then the power of government is transferred to the hands of people elected from the evil. Then at the end of Kali Yuga, the avatar will appear as the supreme chastiser.]
-Puranas
I look upward and pray to the god before Pralaya who were kind, living in starts. But the night sky stands an inky canopy of darkness freckled only by the fewest of stars, and I doubt my voice will reach to the stars.
The occasional hoot of a hidden owl is the only sound to permeate the silence until the train whistles. The sound scares every one standing around me. My heart is thumping hard as the sound of whistle echoes in my chest. It’s like a sucker punch. As the voice of whistle dies an owl on the station gate commits a screech of protest and but doesn’t take flight, even seeing a crowd of people. Its round eyes stare us as if it’s none but the owl on the Adharm Pataka of the Creator.
The lights of the train are eye- pain-ing and then the all the bulbs of the station are on, illuminating everything with fluorescent light.
I absorb the sucker punch of the train’s arrival to my gut and fumble in my mind for a plan but there isn’t anything.
I see the cars of the train opening and men and women in black trousers and saffron shirts hurling them from the cars, some is dropping and rolling, other stumbling a few steps before regaining their balance.
Watching them is the most fearful scene for us. We are out of the fence, unable to break into the station due to electricity running in barbed wires. I press my lips closed, a thin line of defiance.
I turn to see the look of horror on every face around me. Even Tarun and Teena are trembling to their toes.
“Do you see that?” Tarun whispers, “They have sent them to kill us”
I shook my head, trying to hide the terror the sight has given me.
“They are at least fifty,” Teena’s voice is in horror.
“And still counting,” I add. Most of my people are rubbing their eyes with the heels of their hands. Surprised what they are seeing. By the number of Nirbhaya soldiers, it seems the creator wants half of in the wall dead before the morning.
The chill of fear spreads through all. I look over at my father, to ask him what we should do, but stops when I see the expression on his face – I’ve never seen my father in so terror.
Tarun and Teena have stopped and all my people have lined behind them. All are whispering and almost half have lost the courage.
Then the first roaring sound is of Tarun, he raises his sword, then he lowers the point to the necessary trajectory, drag in a deep breath, and says “well, we knew we have to fight and no matter what we will fight,” he is trying to say the right thing but the tremor in his voice says he is also in fear.
I feel myself in fear. It’s easy to think about the war – fight-to –finish but when it comes it feels something strange. It strangles you.
Abruptly loud noises rise inside the station – we spin to see what is that – there is a fight between Nirbhaya troops inside – swords flashing in fluorescent light, knives flying in the air and the blood splattering from bodies.
The enemies are fighting among them – but why?
And then I see Tarun’s father, the leader of Nirbhaya troop. He says something into the ear of his nearby young Nirbhaya and both run towards left, pushing and elbowing and stabbing others.
“He is my father,” Tarun shouts with joy, “he has managed to take some of the un-effected men with him.”
“We have got help,” Teena looks back and declares. It’s sure to give courage to my people.
“What is he doing?” I ask, “Where is your father running to?”
“The generator,” Tarun says, “he has seen us and wants generator off.”
Next five minutes we see Nirbhaya under the effect of serum and non-serum Nirbhaya fighting against each other. The non-effected are outnumbered so the result of the fight is clear if we can’t break inside to help them.
“The hum has stopped,” Teena leans her head near the fence, her ear is some in away from barbed wires, “they have off the generator.”
The first is I to touch the wire. It’s dead – no electricity running inside it.
I look over at Pavan, “got any idea?”
“No,” he replies. His voice is a bit shaky.
“I don’t understand what is going inside,” Daxa asks.
“Some of them are to help us,” I say.
We start pushing the fence.
“Yes, I know,” Daxa says, “but how can we know who is with us and who is our enemy when we are inside the fence,”
“There isn’t a way to know this,” I murmur, “they all are in the same dress code.”
“We shouldn’t have come,” Pavan said. His voice sounds odd, especially among the noises of tools my people are using on the fence.
Some of my people displace the poles by which the wires are attached and some of them are cutting the wires. All my people are born labourer and it doesn’t take them so long to get the fence to the ground.
I’m in no mood for whining like Pavan. We have to do something.
“I have an idea,” I say all there is no barrier of the fence in our way, “let them attack first. If they are with us they won’t attack and if they are under serum then they will.”
Once the wall is fallen and there is no barrier between us and Nirbhaya troop fighting mercilessly. I see people slicing each other with swords, people being beheaded, their limbs being separated from bodies and the sight brings my heart into my mouth.
I’ve never seen people fighting this way. Not any of my people have seen such cruelty. The scene isn’t less than Pralaya for us. I start to step inside the station but my feet are wearily and trembling. What courage I’ve gathered starts to turn to dread, and I feel fear what I’ll do when we crush into the fighting troop.
“What are you waiting for?” Tarun’s father comes to us, running, another Nirbhaya is with him, “they have killed everyone who was beyond the wall. They are here to show you all dead bodies as the reward of your rebellion.”
I feel water pouch inside my knees for a moment. The next moment, the images of Padhma, his family and all of my 230 people’s dead bodies flash against my eyes and the blood rushes to my brain.
I feel the heat inside my eyes and my heart. A sharp pulsing pain throbs behind my eyes and tears trickle in my eyes.
My people are dead – 230 innocent people are dead.
I’ve no choice now – no fear of anything.
I turn back to see my people – the terror in their eyes.
“I know you’re feared,” I say, “the same fear is inside my heart but this fear can’t overweight the feel of revenge we are feeling. They have killed 230 people. Some were women and some were children who have just grown sixteen before a month. They have made a gape inside our heart by snatching them away from and now they are here to show us all the dead bodies to fill that gap with fear. Are you ready to fill that gap with fear?”
“No.” voice of my people echoes inside the station.
“No one can fill this gap with fear,” I say, “it can be filled only by revenge and we will take our revenge.” My hand reaches the hilt of my sword instantly and I draw it out, “are you ready?”
“Ready.” My people echo my voice and their hands reach their weapons.
Now the battle cry of my people has drawn the attention of some Nirbhaya. They look at us, noticing weapons in our hands. They turn to face us, packed in a tight group as their battle strategy. Swords are flashing naked, their feet are walking in unison, not slowly not hurriedly as if they were self-propelled machines, they move to us, some has bows in their hands and arrows pointed at us, ready to kill. Then they start to split into groups of four, tightening their trap formation like ants, the Nirbhaya steadily charges towards us.
It’s time to show we aren’t Sunyas.
“Hold the ground,” Tarun says, “no matter what happens. Don’t retreat.”
All my people nod.
“Trainees arrows,” now Teena has her bow in her hand and arrow ready to be released, the string pulled to her ear, as tight as she can.
She doesn’t wait for an answer but I say, “Yes, arrows ready,” and exchange a look at Tarun. His face is firm and his bow and arrows are ready to kill.
“Fly the arrow,” Tarun shouts and with it we all release arrows. Almost all hit the target, some in their chest, some in their neck, some in their legs and some missed the target.
And then is the return shower, rain of arrow comes to us. I cut three with my sword and one of it pierces in my left arm.
I look at another shower of the arrow coming to us and ready my sword to cut them but before the arrow hit me I found my people jumping ahead and saving me from the arrow.
Now my people are wild. They are Nirbhaya and they have shielded me and other trainees from the arrows. Their body pierced with arrows.
We move ahead, shouting and yelling and cursing our enemies.
Nirbhaya troop is there to kill us, kill trainees and trainers first of all. They understand the arrows aren’t useful any longer. They rush towards us.
Tarun looks at me and then Teena. They exchange a long glance. The fighting is almost worse than we have expected it. In some minutes we have lost more than twenty people.
“You lead,” Tarun finally says to me, his voice barely more than a whisper, “let the Avatar inside you released and show them what the real god is,” Now his voice becomes loud, “Do it.”
I nod once, close eyes, visualize my people lying dead in piles in cars of the train and it hardens my features. I strengthen my grip on the sword, “we’ll push them towards the underground tunnels. We outnumber them and we’ll win.” I hold my sword high in the air. All of my anger, pain, and loss seem into my grip over the hilt.
I look back at the approaching Nirbhaya troop – they are only a few feet away. As I grip my sword with both of my hands and step ahead of my sword flashes in the light of the station.
“Stay firm,” I shout, “hold the ground,” I yell as the troop of Nirbhaya crush into us, “stick together.” I cut one of the head and my sword swing back, slicing another body.
“Slice them,” Tarun shouts and swings a sword into the air with one hand, a long knife in other. His sword is blocked by one of Nirbhaya but the next moment his knife catches target in the stomach of the man who has blocked his sword blow.
And with that the battle begins, all the trainees run into a troop of Nirbhaya, stabbing and slicing and dicing them, my people following them and shielding them from every blow.
My people are wild and strong and they can bear anything. Pain isn’t a new thing for them. They use all sticks, spades, axes, agriculture knives, shovels, pruning shears, garden forks, rakes and whatever they have in their hand.
Nirbhaya troop is outnumbered and the remaining of them is busy behind with troop of Tarun’s father, unable to help them.
“I killed seven,” Teena holds her sword in the ox guard position and shouts at Tarun, smiling. I wonder how the Nirbhaya can be so Nirbhaya.
“I’m at ten,” Tarun shouts back, “and still counting.”
“We will compare it when the battle ends.” She says before she rushes inside a group of four Nirbhaya slicing an old man with a spike in his hand.
Then I’m busy with a group of four Nirbhaya. As their strategy they instinctively try to hit against my sword. I’m within the arc of their weapons but luckily the Training of Tarun was good. I manage to sidestep and then they try to hit my lower body and I manage to slip back and whack them, hitting more from the wrists, using the length of the guard as a lever.
One of them dares more and comes too much near me, with the intention to cut me into the stomach. The same move Teena has taught me which she has learned at born initiate. I know its counter move. I slip my front leg back and thrust against my opponent’s upper body.
And then it hit me – the memory of my 230 people being killed mercilessly beyond the wall and the hear rushes in my body. I move my feet and off-balance one of them with a sidekick. Another one attacks me in the side but I duck and cut his abdomen right where his armor gives him expose of an inch, the place where chest ends and abdomen starts.
As the sword pierce his body a loud scream escapes from his mouth and he falls to the ground. The fact two of the Nirbhaya has been down by a Sunya puzzles remaining two. They can’t believe their eyes.
I sprint ahead, pushing one of them and running at full speed, cutting another in the side of his bare neck. His cream fills the station and disappears among other screams. The one whom I have pushed tries to backstab me but I stop abruptly and thrust my swords back, from under my left armpit as I have learned in training. It stabs in the stomach of the last one trying to backstab me.
I’ve killed a group of four without being injured a slight. It grows courage inside me.
***
to be continue...
