He did not let go her hand.
The crowd looked at her as if she was the criminal.When she was dragged away infront of them by a group of men,they were too cowardly to react ,it was easier for the to conclude that she was the wrong one,the characterless woman.
'Purusho k jurm bhi aurat ka kalank hote hai'.
The whispered words ,the questions on her character were something that she had already suffered through but it still was successful in lowering her eyes infront of them all. She knew that they would never believe the words or pain of a woman unfortunately in the society it was always the woman's fault but she still wanted to shout to let them know that Pratap should be questioned, punished for his filthy deeds,not her.
In all of this ,it was his hand that kept her grounded throughout,maybe her eyes were lowered today but she didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her tears.
The path that she he had admired once was devoid of it's colours today, the trees and animals too silent as if they were aware of her pain and grieving for her,with her
The cloth was around her shoulders,her hair still loose-she hadn't bothered to fix it, didn't have the energy for it.She looked at the path infront of her and told her that right now it would be enough.
Just walking .
He said nothing.She was grateful for it , somewhere on the path a tear fell ,a hiccup -small , involuntary. She pressed her lips together,trying and failing to control the tears.Her eyes blurred ,her mind numb.
She kept her eyes down.
His hand still in hers, assuring grounding more than words ever could.
They were welcomed by the smell of incense.
The tears that she had controlled throughout the way now refused to listen to her commands.
Home
The temple steps appeared through the trees, the old stones warm in the afternoon light, the flowers at the entrance nodding gently in a breeze that had not reached them in the village. The lamps in their alcoves burning their small steady flames.
And Panditji.
"Baba" she whispered.
He was standing at the entrance.Had he known,the way he always seemed to know things,that today something bad had happened with his daughter.?
He assessed her condition first, noting the physical wounds that his daughter carried.His expression was calm guarded but his eyes carried so much.
Grief.
"Beta,apne baba k paas aaja"He opened his arms inviting her ,in her sanctuary,her home and she ran.
She let go of Rudra's hands .She ran towards her father's arms and her knees gave out,she wept again , complaining about how the world had treated her telling him through her tears.
"Baba" Just that.His name came out broken .A woman crying in her father's arms with the grief of a little girl.
His whispered soothing words in her ears,kissed her forehead and wiped her tears.
"Baba yahi hai beta .Mein hoon Yahin hoon"
She pressed her face into his shoulder.
And he held her , this small old man in his simple dhoti, his rudraksha beads pressing against her cheek .He held her the way only someone who has loved you a long time knows how to hold you. Completely. Without reservation or making you feel like a burden for needing it.
"Aa. Andar aa." he murmured. "Aa mere saath."
(Come. Come inside. Come with me.)
He helped her up and kept his arm around her. Guided her toward the entrance.
At the threshold she stopped.
Turned.
Rudra was still at the bottom of the steps. He had not moved from where he stood where she had left him, watching. His face was closed, unreadable as always.
Their eyes met for just a moment.
And then she walked inside.
Then he set down the supplies. Sat on the lowest step with his back to the temple, his arms resting on his knees, his eyes on the forest.
His soldiers were inside. His wounds needed tending. There were a hundred things that required his attention.
He sat on the step.
And did not move.
Somewhere in the village ,the chief and his wife looked at their son's ashes,his cremated body.
They had grieved, cried but now the tears turned into something deeper,darker.
Cold than fury.
Darker than grief.
'Revenge'.
His hand found his wife's .Gripped it.
"Uss ladki ko aisi takleef denge ,ki woh maut k liye tadpegi phir bhi usse maut hasil nahi hogi. Ham apne bache k maut ka badla jarur lenge .
Woh buddha pandit bhi apni santan k liye tadpega jaise ham tadpe hai aur badle mein usko bas Dard milega .
Bas dard" he whispered the last words
Night
The soldiers slept where they had collapsed , against walls, on the stone floor, wrapped in whatever could be found. Some of them would not be fully well for days. He had checked each one before the light went. Filed away what was needed, made the calculations, decided what could wait and what could not.
Then he had sat near the entrance.
Not sleeping.
He did not sleep much on good nights. Tonight was not a good night.
He had just closed his eyes when he heard them.He was aware in his heart that something like this would happen,his heart restless.
Then he saw them
The chief at the front,his wife at his side,the villagers behind them. Every man working under the chief's authority, torches in their matched towards the temple.He stood up one hand relaxed other on his sword.
Panditji descended the temple steps,with the awareness of a father and the resolution of a learned authority.
"Aap log itni ratri ko mandir mein kyu aaye ho".his voice was steady devoid of any fears .
The chief stopped at the bottom of the path. The torchlight caught his face and red eyes, tight jaw, the face of a man held together by fury because grief alone was not strong enough to keep him upright.
"Panditji." His voice was rough. "Hume woh ladki dedije, usko saza ham tay karenge.
(Panditji. We want that girl.we will decide her punishment.)
Panditji did not move.
"Bina apradh kiye ,kaisi saza ki baat kar rahe ho aap mukhiya ji"
(Without any crime,what punishment are you talking about,chief?)
"Woh ladki." The chief's voice hardened. "Kashi. Jo tumhare mandir mein rehti hai. Jo tumhari beti kehlaati hai." The contempt on that last word was deliberate and precise. "Uski wajah se mere bete ki jaan gayi hai. Uske aashiq ne mere bete ko maara,toh saza toh milegi pandit."
(That girl. Kashi. Who lives in your temple. Who calls herself your daughter. Her lover killed by son,so punishment will be given.)
"Kyun?" Panditji asked. Simply. Directly.
"Kyun?" The chief laughed , a short ugly sound completely without humor. "Mere bete ki asthiyan ghar mein padi hai, Panditji. Mere bete ki. Jo is gaon ka kal tha. Jo is gaon ko aage le jaata. Aur woh..woh ladki uski aisi himmat ki woh ghar mein baithe, sukoon se "
(Why? My son's body lies in my house, Panditji. My son's. Who was this village's future. Who would have taken this village forward. And she that girl ,how dare she sit peacefully in her home.)
"Tumhara beta ek aurat par—"
"Mera beta kuch bhi kare!" The chief's voice cracked , fury and grief splitting through in equal measure. "Woh mera beta tha. Iss gaon ka khoon tha. Aur uss ladki ne use yahan tak pahunchaya. Pehle thukraya. Phir apne naye aashiq ke haath se maar diya."
(My son could do anything! He was my son. The blood of this village. And that girl brought him to this point. First rejected him. Then had him killed by her new lover.)
"Yeh sach nahi hai," Panditji said. Quietly. Firmly.
(This is not true.)
"Sach!" The chief's wife stepped forward now ,her voice cold and precise as a blade. "Sach ki baat karte ho. Toh sach yeh hai Panditji ki uss ladki ka koi nahi hai. Na maa. Na baap. Na khandaan. Kahan se aayi kuch nahi pata. Tum ne paal liya ,theek hai. Lekin tum ek budhhe pandit ho. Akele ho. Is gaon ki zameen pe rehte ho. Is gaon ke logon ki wajah se tumhara mandir chalta hai. Humari daya pe jeete ho tum dono."
(Truth! You talk of truth. Then the truth is this Panditji ,that girl has no one. No mother. No father. No family. Where she came from no one knows. You raised her fine. But you are one old pandit. Alone. Living on this village's land. Your temple runs because of this village's people. You both live on our mercy.)
She let that sit for a moment.
"Hame pata hai ,ham uss Senapati ko saza nahi sakte .Woh ek yodha hai. Kal aaya tha,aaj chala jayega.
Lekin, woh ladki....jisne pehle mere bete k dil dukhaya uska baat uske mrityu ki karan bani.
Usko..usko ham Bina sazaa diye jivit chod de .Aisa bilkul nahi hoga! Mere bete ki aatma ko shanti tab tak nahi milegi jab Tak uss ladki ko uske apradh ka dhand nahi mil jayega."
Panditji looked at her.
Then at the chief.
Then at the crowd behind them,all those faces he had known for decades. People whose children he had named, whose marriages he had blessed, whose dead he had sent off with prayer and flowers and the words that made leaving bearable.
All of them.
Standing in his torchlight with their eyes down or their eyes hard, following the man in front of them because that was what they did. Because the cost of not following was more than most of them were willing to pay.
He looked at all of them.
And stood exactly where he was.
"Nahi," he said.
One word. No qualification. No apology. No negotiation.
"Nahi."
The chief stared at him.
"Pandit—"
"Kashi is mandir ki beti hai," Panditji said. His voice had not risen. It did not need to. "Aur jab tak main khada hoon ,is mandir ke dwar se koi use nahi le jaayega. Na raat ko. Na din ko. Na kabhi."
(Kashi is this temple's daughter. And as long as I am standing ,no one will take her from this temple's gates. Not at night. Not in the day. Not ever.)
"Tum ek akele budhhe ho," the chief said. Low. Dangerous.
"Bhool gaye ho apni aukaat?"
"Tum kab tak uski raksha kar paoge.Woh ek Avivahita ladki hai,uske aage piche koi nahi hai .
"Ek Bachalan aurat hai woh!."
"Chup! ...meri beti k charitra ki upar mein ek shabd nahi sununga.Mein janta hoon galti kiski hai aur aap log bhi jaante ho.Jab tak mein jivit hoon woh Kahi nahi jayegi."He declared eyes hard and furious .
The chief took one step forward.
Inside the temple Kashi sat against the wall.
She had been almost asleep when the voices began.
Now she sat completely still, knees drawn up, hands pressed flat against the cold stone floor, and listened. Every word reaching her clearly in the night silence. Every word landing exactly where it was aimed.
How did all of this happen. How can a mere rejection be the cause of such situation. How can the society be so cruel that it cannot even accept a girl's simple 'no'.
She knew what punishment meant.
She knew what happened to women the village decided needed to be punished. She had but she had heard all about it. Everyone had heard. The kind of punishment that did not leave marks you could point to. They publicly humiliated the woman by cutting all her hair off,forcefully make her wear a garland of sandals and hit her with stones.
She pressed her lips together.
Outside the chief had taken another step toward Panditji.
"Uss ladki ko de do, Pandit.Ek akela buddha pandit kab tak rakhsha kar payega ek mamuli ladki ka.
(Hand that girl over, Pandit. How long a old pandit like you will be able to protect a common girl like her .)
"Aur agar tumne phir bhi mana kiya," his wife added, her voice dropping to something almost gentle, which made it worse, "toh hum yeh bhi tay kar lenge ki is gaon mein tumhari zaroorat hai ya nahi. Ek pandit jo gaon ke khilaf jaaye , uski zaroorat kisi ko nahi hoti."
(And if you refuse again — then we will also decide whether this village needs you or not. A pandit who goes against the village , no one needs him.)
Panditji said nothing.
The crowd waited.
And then .
A sound.
Footsteps.
From the temple entrance, unhurried, even, the particular footsteps of someone who is aware of how much power he beholds.
Rudra stepped into the torchlight.
He had been standing on the temple steps in the dark and he had heard every word from the first voice to the last and he had let it go on exactly as long as it needed to go on.
Now he walked forward and stood beside Panditji.
The crowd's energy changed immediately , that collective intake of breath, that involuntary step backward that rippled through them like wind through grass.
The chief did not step back.
But his jaw tightened.
"Tum," he said. "Yeh tumhara mamla nahi hai."
(You. This is not your matter.)
Rudra looked at him.
Said nothing for a long moment. Let the silence do what silence does when the right person is holding it.
"Pandit ,kab tak in sainiko k bharose rahoge yeh aaj rahenge aur Kal chale jayenge .Uske baad kya karoge tum.Insaaf toh hoke rahega "the chief looked at Rudra with contempt.
(Pandit,how long will you depend on this soldiers,they will stay Today and go Tommorow.What Will you do then.Justice will be given.)
""Kaise insaaf ki baat kar rahe ho tum, Mukhiya," Rudra said. Quiet. Even. . "Woh insaaf , jo bhare bazaar mein ek ladki ke saath jabardasti hote hue bhi chup tha. Aankhein jhukaye hua tha. Ya woh insaaf , jo ek ladki ke ek mamuli se 'nahi' ko bardasht nahi kar pata?"
(What justice are you speaking of, Mukhiya. That justice ,which stayed silent when a girl was being wronged in a full market. Which kept its eyes lowered. Or that justice which cannot bear a girl's simple 'no' .?)
The chief's jaw tightened.
"Mere bete pe ilzaam laga rahe ho," he said. "Mere bete ne kya kiya? Kya saboot hai tumhare paas ki usne is ladki ke saath kuch galat kiya. Kisne dekha apni aankhon se?"
(You are putting blame on my son. What did my son do? What proof do you have that he did anything wrong with this girl. Who saw it with their own eyes?)
"Tum," Rudra said simply. "Tum khud saboot ho. Tumhari chuppi saboot hai. Tumhara aaj raat yahan aana saboot hai. Aur woh do log -" his eyes moved briefly to the two men standing at the back of the crowd, the ones who had run from the alley "woh bhi saboot hain."
(You. You yourself are the proof. Your silence is proof. Your coming here tonight is proof. And those two men —,his eyes moved briefly to the two men standing at the back of the crowd-they are proof too.)
The two men looked at the ground.
The chief stepped forward. His voice cracking now,grief and fury and desperation all at once.
"Tum kal nahi rahoge yahan. Tum jaoge. Tumhara koi bandhan nahi hai yahan. Koi ghar nahi. Koi rishta nahi. Aur jab tum rahoge hi nahi toh tab inki sahayeta kaun karega
(You will not be here tomorrow. You will leave. You have no ties here. No home. No relation. And when you are not here ,who will help them.)
His wife cut in. Her voice dropping into something worse than anger. Something deliberate and precise and aimed.
"Senapati , yeh bhi toh ho sakta hai ki mere bete ko maar ke woh tumhare saath apna muh kala kar rahi ho."
(Senapati ,is it not also possible that after getting my son killed she is using you to hide her own sins.)
The words were not finished.
In a span of a second the cold steel of Rudra's sword was aimed at the chief's throat.
The soldiers once hidden were ready to attack with their commander's orders.
Nobody saw it happen. It was that fast. One moment Rudra was standing still and the next the blade was resting against the chief's skin cold, steady, completely without hesitation or heat or drama.
The crowd froze.
The chief's wife gasped in horror.
Every torch. Every face. Every borrowed conviction frozen completely.The men who were once gathered to intimidate were ready for run for their lives.
Rudra looked at the chief. Their faces inches apart. His eyes the same they always were cold, flat, absolute.
"Ek lafz aur," he said. So quietly only the chief could hear. "Sirf ek lafz aur Kaashi k baare mein aur tumhari haalat wahi hogi jo tumhare bete ki hui."
(One word more. Just one word more about her and your condition will be the same as your son's.)
Silence.
He held the sword there for one long moment.
Then lowered it.
Stepped back.
And turned to face the crowd.
"Tum kehte ho woh akeli hai. Tum sochte ho woh akeli hai." He looked at every face .
(You say she is alone. You think she is alone. After today — do not even think it.)
He looked at the chief.
"Aur yeh insaaf jo kehta hai ki ek aurat ka wajood ek mard ke hone se tay hota hai. Ki ek aurat ki pavitrta sirf ek pati sabit kar sakta hai."
(And this justice , which says that a woman's existence is decided by a man's presence. That a woman's purity can only be proved by a husband.)
He paused.
"Toh sun lo."
"Hum is mandir mein khade hain," he said. "Bhagwan Sri Krishna ke ghar mein. Aur main unhe saakshi maan k aur pandit ji ki aagya se unki beti k saath vivah karunga.
Aaj se yeh Rudra Kashi ka Rudra Kehlayega.
Okkk so what happened is pura likha tha joh gayab ho gaya stck ki kripa se isliye last ka scene itna acha nahi ban paya ek baar puri mehnat laga k likhne k baad phirse wahi chiz karne mein man nahi lagta aur merse nahi ho paya .
I bow down before the queens of Wattpad jinhone mujhe 2020 se paala you guys are amazingly talented.Meri toh likhte likhte gand phat gayi😭
Hindi translations ai se karwaye kyuki mujhe naa hindi aati hai na english .Mera koi first last language nahi hai .I identify as gadhi.
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