~ Quiet Down.~

"You were

Never mine

To lose,

But I

Lost you

All the same."

- d.j.

************

His life was a puzzle. The dead memories of his past were chaotic itself.

He doesn't know why he keeps thinking about them - the ones that feel so real, but at the same time feel like they're not. Or the ones which feel fake and unreal, the way a dream will.

The pieces that form his consciousness have holes in them and he is forgetting the bigger picture that has been lost to him --- everything was in mayhem and he found himself in the middle of that turmoil, searching for something or rather someone.

He wants to find her, the same woman whose letters keep messing up with his composure, making him desperate to reach out to her, meet her and then, question her.

Who was she? And why does she seem so important?

He can't decipher it all because there was too much pain in it, too much turbulence, too many questions left unanswered.

The same questions that always linger in his thoughts whenever he closes his eyes in sleep and feels the cold sheets against his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two letters. A diary. And some photos carefully accoutred within photo frames - that's all he found. Not many clues, but still somehow enough to temporarily appease his curiosity.

But he was sure, that curiosity, that damned desperation would only die once he finds her.

Shravya - that's what her name was. It was a beautiful name with a beautiful meaning, but he couldn't recall anything related to that name.

He took out the frames one by one, flipping through each slowly as if they might crumble away into dust at any second.

"Shravya," he softly whispered, picking up one of the photo frames. Oddly, her name tasted like familiarity on his tongue.

Feebly, his fingers traced along the glassy surface of the frame, and there was nothing. He couldn't recall anything. He couldn't feel anything but emptiness.

"Shravya," mumbling, he still tried, attempting desperately to remember her, but it seemed as if every time he thought he had a hold of something, she just came off as an abandoned memory, a fading sight at that.

Dissatisfied, he dropped the picture back onto the table, abstractedly staring at the pile of all the clues created.

He found himself feeling nothing for the woman in the picture, someone he didn't even remember yet wanted to know.

The fact that even after forgetting everything, this woman is still present in his mind, beyond the memories he forgot, somewhere still within his grasp.

Clearly, he had two closed ones.

One of them is dead while the other is - where is she?

Shravya. He doesn't know why but he could tell that she really meant something precious to him.

Then, why is she not with him?

Something was definitely missing, something strange but most important - the last part of the puzzle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Years passed, Tanveer was out of the picture and Zaid had the authority now.

The world was unfair to him right from the start, foraging on his grief and laughing at his sufferings. But now that he has the power in his hands, he could easily do anything, take anything.

Even Shravya.

He has been crowned a king. Now, shouldn't a king have his queen by his side?

In a quite similar manner, his fingers sketched along the surface of the picture, and this time he felt an emotion - it was desperation or maybe eagerness.

Whatever it was, it was not something that just bloomed from a mere glance or a mere touch. It was something that took him years to harbour, to recognise.

And, now that he understands his feelings, how could he just disregard them?

No way in hell he was just going to ignore his own emotions. There was a ravaging need within him, a hunger that he couldn't just fulfill. No matter what he does, nothing ever seems enough.

No. No. No. No. Just these sweet and comforting words, these apologetic letters - they aren't enough. They're not even a fraction of being enough.

He needed more.

He wanted the owner of these letters, the one who wrote them in such a way that each penned-down word seems to tangle and ruin his composer, play with his emotions, and mess up his sanity.

It has taken him a long time to come this far. It's already been so long, but gladly, all the time and efforts were worth it.

At last, he found her.

And oh, how amazing this chase was. Truly worth everything he did.

Shravya - he wanted to meet her, for real.

Actually no, he will meet her for sure, in person.

Even monsters can feel pain.

The emotional one, the breaking one, the suffocating one, the killing one - maybe, that's the kind of pain meant to be felt by them.

On the brink of death, even monsters can feel scared.

They can also feel the icy grip of terror as they stand on the verge, ending with nothing, stuck with nothingness while facing the appalling sight of their own demise.

But the broadly harrowing idea of all is that the death they fear the most is not their own, but that of their beloved ones --- they fear that particular loss, not death.

Zaid was practically numb to everything but her.

Things change when it comes to her.

Trembling, his eyes hastily shifted from the phone's screen to the grave on the ground, the tracker evidently indicating that Shravya was buried there.

Instantly, panic consumed him, its grip tightening around his body like a serpent trapping its prey.

His heart ached uncomfortably, jaw clenching and hold tightening around the device in his hand; that b*itch! How dare she harm her. Just once he finds her, he is definitely going to peel her skin off before showing her true hell.

A chill ran down his spine, indisputably quivering with raw anger ascending through his being while his body went down on the knees as if having a will of its own, wanting nothing more than to save its beloved.

With the phone slumped off their grasp, his hands reached out to the grave, fingers sinking into the soil with an ire urge to tear and pull out the newly made burial.

"Dig it out. . . ." Zaid growled lowly, voice strained, shaking. His chest rose and fell rapidly in uneven intervals, the cold sweat dripping down his temples despite being surrounded by the chilling air.

"I swear I'll tear that woman's flesh off piece by piece until she begs for forgiveness," he bitterly hissed under his ragged breaths while his hands brutally but desperately shoved the fragile soil apart to get near Shravya.

The dirt crumbled like sand beneath his fingers, but it didn't impede him from digging his way down to her, heedless of everything else as he gritted his teeth together and kept pushing with rejuvenated vigor, every fiber of his existence obliging him on.

Shravya.

Although astonishing, he could hear a wavering cry coming from somewhere inside his head.

Shravya.

A part of his mind registered how the tears were slowly descending his face; he didn't care though, digging into the dirt with the intensity of a madman - he was totally losing it, an exotic level of absolute insanity was slipping in, feasting on the pandemonium enveloping him.

He just wanted the dirt off - the same dirt which was covering her, keeping her away from him, encompassing everything about her.

Meri Shravya.

His eyes burned fiercely, and again a few stray droplets stumbled from the corners, travelling upon his cheekbones before falling on the ground below and mixing with the earth.

"I said f*cking dig this grave out!" With an ungodly yell of frustration, he alerted the men behind him, all the while never once terminating the pace of his movements as he dug deeper, rejecting the sting of gouging, just focusing on Shravya.

Across all the bedlam, he could smell blood in the air and it repulsed him. It scared him.

Like spring flowers blooming amid the cold winter, the sight of fright engulfing him appeared strange, unbelievable.

Oh, fear looked so odd on those devilishly stunning features of his. How come even someone like him was capable of feeling fear? --- truly, a once-in-a-lifetime kind of view.

For some, death surely was another face of tragic desperation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The midnight sky was deserted, with nothing but the darkness to cover its bare form. It seemed as if the moon and stars - the light, was swallowed by an unknown void, flitting the hushed atmosphere to mourn over that loss.

After tossing her backpack into the sea, Aqsa was leaning over the railing of the bridge, staring at the sandwich in her hold, curiously eyeing the slices of raw meat stuffed with vegetables between the bread.

Seriously, the head maid, Maria, was a strange woman. She was the one who made that sandwich for her, but not even once she found it weird that Aqsa preferred raw meat over the cooked one. That fact was something which made even her own sister uncomfortable.

But Maria just stuffed raw meat in her sandwich without any question --- strange indeed.

"Cheers to the last meal of my life," Aqsa sighed, taking a big bite from the sandwich, the taste of all ingredients melting on her tongue.

Soon, the empty air was filled with her delightful hums at every bite, however, all this was soon joined by someone's presence.

A little away, Raghav stood with a gun in his hand, peering at her silently. His eyes were narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at her figure, approaching with strong steps.

"Can I at least finish my sandwich before you begin asking me - where I buried your little madam?" Sensing his presence, Aqsa turned to him, pointing a finger at her half-eaten sandwich. "As you can see, someone made this for me."

"This is not something for me to care about," his voice was dark, yet cold, almost disassembling like the shadows of a stormy night. In a split second, he stopped before her, his hand raising the gun, aiming it at her forehead.

"This sandwich was made with love and very pure intentions." Aqsa didn't move a single muscle, keeping her eyes glued to the barrel of the gun pointed at her. "Now, throwing it away would be disrespectful to their hard work. Isn't it?"

She knew him well enough. He works for Zaid, so there was no need for him to introduce himself. Moreover, he didn't seem to care much about manners.

"If you're here, then it certainly means that the grave is founded," she sighed, tilting her chin up as a grin moved her lips. "Hmm, so tell me, was she breathing when he found her?"

"Shut up!" He hissed, inching nigher and tightly clutching a fistful of her hair, yanking her closer while she continued grinning, staring at him with mocking eyes, bestowing no care to the lethal weapon still pointed to her forehead.

"Are you threatening me?" She drawled with phony innocence before snickering under her breath. "Then shove it up your a*s. I'm not scared of you. I've encountered many of your kinds."

"Enough of this bullshit." His jaw clenched and he tightened his grip on her scalp, letting the gun's mouth slip dangerously close to the corner of her mouth as if wanting to wipe out the repulsive grin on her mouth. "Aqsa Minhas, you're coming with me."

"Make me."

Suddenly, all the amusement and derision vanished from her face, replaced by precise calm. It wasn't because of shock, nor did it show fear --- she watched him with a dead serious gaze, unafraid of anything or anyone.

At that moment, there was only cold indifference in her pupils. But despite the icy stare that wanted to freeze his soul, Raghav couldn't find any imprints of intimidation. Rather, he saw only the frosty dispassion of someone who perfectly knew what they were capable of.

"You're no one. You didn't have the right to do whatever you did with Madam." His hand moved from her locks to her neck, suffocatingly constricting before knocking her body down.

"What do you mean I'm no one?" There was no reaction from her, though. Only impersonal, indifferent, calculating eyes peering into his. "I'm his victims' family."

"Perhaps, are you implying that I shouldn't have taken my revenge?" Her tone suddenly changed, becoming low and sharp like the edges of a knife meant to cut him, pierce him open. "Do you mean that I should have just stayed mum and waited for the Karma to get him?"

It felt like time had frozen on him when she said those words. Her voice sounded distant, detached. Still, Raghav contained the awareness of his duty - the duty he was given by Zaid. The one he was sworn to uphold.

With his responsibility pulling his thoughts, he moved his knee, with the aim to knock Aqsa unconscious. But before he could do it, something soft was shoved on his face, his senses not even needing a second to realise what it was: it was Aqsa's half-eaten sandwich.

His hand twitched, hold slightly loosening, letting Aqsa bear a kick into his stomach before slipping away.

"Oh well, let me tell you a secret." She landed with a grunt, rolling onto her feet. "I'm Zaid's Karma. And, I'm here to make sure he pays for his crimes."

Next, the gun collided with her head, the blow given by Raghav with pure instincts which were drilled in his mind since childhood.

Aqsa hissed with the impact, nevertheless, when the second blow came, it was blocked, just in time for her to fling herself at his knees and pin him underneath.

"Give in already."

With a swift twist, Raghav pulled the gun away, only for her to catch both ends in her hands, keeping them rigid.

"Or else?"

Her lips curled derisively.

"Look, for a long time people have believed Karma to be an answer to one's actions, a force of nature - but it's all a lie, Karma isn't formless. Karma comes in a humanoid form."

Her hands shook against his, as she held onto the gun firmly, the muzzle digging into her palms with great strength.

Taking the other alternative, Raghav pushed her body off himself instead. As he straightened up, he noticed her moving into a sitting position on the ground, completely unfazed.

"Karma isn't a marvellous act of nature or the wrath of God," she chuckled, spitting out the blood which was caused by his strike. "Karma is just a human treating the other human in the same way they once might have treated some other human."

Raghav narrowed his eyes, looking at her with scrutiny; she was crazy. Nothing new.

She tilted her head up, smiling wryly, licking the smeared blood off her lower lip. "And sometimes, just like in my case, Karma is just revenge hiding under a pretence."

Abruptly, she laughed, shaking her head with a smirk dancing across her lips before standing up on her feet as within a brisk motion, she kicked the gun away from his hand, watching it fall far away, vaguely catching Raghav unwary --- all the things she blabbered, were only for that one moment.

Totally worth her efforts.

Not wasting another second, she dashed to the railing of the bridge, jumping down. Yet, Raghav quickly followed, grabbing her by the arm before she could fall into the sea.

They both looked at each other, their eyes boring deep into each others' with contempt.

She twisted her limb in his grasp, looking down, feeling the coldness seeping through her skin pores. The water in the sea was dark green with dull currents flowing around; she will make sure that Zaid doesn't get her alive.

It would be such a shame if he got to torture her to soothe his anguish.

Nope. That's exactly what she doesn't want.

He should suffocate, writhe, and then, after going through a long torment, he should die in pain.

Till the very end, there should be no relief for him. Absolutely not.

"You're one stubborn fu*ker," she scoffed, carefully shifting her body and pulling a pocket knife out of her jeans. "Now, let me go, otherwise I'll take your wrist with me."

The knife was stabbed many times into Raghav's arm when he attempted to grab her with both arms. He didn't show pain but blood dripped out, making his clasp slippery over her arm.

"I don't regret killing her," The venom of her words was laced with malice, almost dripping with her previous thirst for revenge as she continued attacking him. "I'll never regret killing her."

With one last attack, her limb went free and she fell, going down with a triumphant grin, eyes not once leaving their exultant shine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ring which used to symbolise their bond.

The ring that used to beautifully adore Shravya's hand.

The ring whose sight used to make him all happier and delirious inside.

The ring that has a tracker, craftily hidden under the shine of its sumptuosity.

Now, that same ring, stained with Shravya's blood, seemed to be mocking him, its blood-tinted shine goring into his eyes and singing him the tale of a tragedy --- a tragedy which ended with Shravya crumbled under the soil of the dead.

Within the hospital's barren hallways, Zaid numbly sat on the floor, blank gaze fixated on the ring in his hand, body slightly trembling, only having the wall as his support.

His mind was a blur of questions, thoughts, and memories, none formulating sense to him, just like the ones that inhabited him currently as his fingers tenderly caressed Shravya's ring.

He knew about nothing anymore.

While Shravya fought for her life, he could do nothing but wait.

As time passed by, each second seemed like it would never end, every second felt like hours to him.

For him, the world had turned to shades of grey, and soon darkness was to arrive, to paint him in black just like how he was from inside; a dark void, empty and lightless.

It was torture waiting in the cold deserted corridors alone, without knowing if she would ever wake up. His mind and heart seemed to be completely shattered, not responding. And, it felt as if his soul was left behind in the graveyard where he found Shravya wounded, bloodied, and buried alive.

Everything happened without any sort of warning. He wasn't prepared - is this how she might have felt when situations always occurred to be against her?

Fret not. I'm with you.

His surroundings eloped with stillness, hitching his breaths along as the rough but familiar voice crackled.

Haven't I always been with you?

Always and always.

The voice whispered again, cracking the barrier of his emotional stability to let the instability flow in.

Suddenly, Zaid could feel his heartbeat accelerating as the rumbles became louder and more fierce, the madness came to have taken a physical form from shadows, somehow appearing right behind him even though there was no space.

Just let me take over. You know, I'll make everything alright.

Two shadowy hands moved, holding him by the neck while the seductive words kept coming out, wanting to dampen his awareness.

Let me be in control. I promise I'll hunt that witch down. I'll take revenge for us, just like I always have.

He could feel the shadows slowly pull him closer, closer to their own evil.

It's always Zaid who gets hurt, always Zaid who suffers.

At this point, his breaths were going irregular, eyes wide, staring at nothing.

You know I won't let anyone hurt us, right? I'll cut their hands off even before they could touch us.

The world was slowly getting away from his sight. Rationality was fading and like different colours together, the chaos was blending with his surroundings, emotions, misery and pain, creating nothing but a terrible mess at the end.

Even the most plausible of thoughts and actions couldn't seem to subdue the urge to induce into the dark abyss of the awry desire the shadows were boring in him.

As long as I'm with you, no one can hurt us. I'll never let anyone hurt us, or look down upon us.

I'll always protect us.

The grasp of shadows tightened on his neck, voice drawing sharper and demanding, losing tolerance.

I'm the only one who can help you now.

Let me out.

"Please. . . . ." Zaid let out a choked whisper, covering his ears with his hands and pulling his knees closer to his chest.

Let me out! Don't you want to take revenge?!

Revenge? - it wasn't even the last thing he wanted at the moment. Wasn't vengeance the reason for Shravya's life and death situation?

No. He doesn't want revenge. He just wants her and their baby to be safe. Nothing else matters.

Revenge is a cruel notion, that moves in a circle; if he hurt someone today, later on, someone will hurt Shravya again, to take revenge.

"No," he let out a weak mumble, now, furiously trembling, still clutching the ring tightly in his palm as he tried to cover his ears.

"No, no. Please. I don't." His breaths grew faster and heavier. "Not revenge."

"Please. . . ."

He closed his eyes taut, tears slipping out, trying not to feel as the painful grip around his throat got hard and hard, cutting off his breathing.

"Please, quiet down. . ."

~ What to do in a time of despair?

(बुरे समय में क्या करे?)

Where should we go? Whom should we blame?

(कहाँ जाए और किसको कोसे?)

Even the time was bounded by Karma.

(समय को भी तो कर्मो ने जकड़ा था।)

And, that Karma was ours.

(और, वो कर्म हमारे अपने थे।) ~

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Q - So, how was the chapter people?

Btw, the quote about Karma at the end isn't mine. It belongs to my Nani Maa. Though, she doesn't know that I stole it 😅✌️

And, I'm back from hiatus after giving my exams and enjoying a long vacation 🌚❤️

So, you can expect an early update, hopefully 🙌