The British police jeep raced down the muddy road with ferocity, its engine roaring like a fierce beast. The weather was unforgiving; the early dawn after a treacherous rainy night was dark and eerily calm. The calmness was sinister, and it only added to the restlessness of the two pairs of eyes inside the jeep. Anirudh scanned the surroundings, ever vigilant for any signs of his missing brother, Batuk. Officer Paul Davidson sat beside the driver, his impatience and anxiety palpable. The Indian driver, visibly scared of his boss's restlessness, focused on driving.

The other British officer, sitting behind Anirudh, leaned forward and addressed Davidson in an irritated voice. "Sir, if I may ask, why are we even going to look for these Indians? Don't we have more important affairs to attend to?"

Davidson frowned and looked annoyed at this abrupt enquiry. "Sergeant Desmond, had it not been for this Indian man sitting beside you, I wouldn't have been alive today. So, as your commanding officer, I'd say do as you're told."

Davidson adjusted the rearview mirror and looked at Anirudh. Anirudh had heard the conversation too, but he was in no mood to intervene or justify anything. His heart was pounding so loud that it was a bad omen.

The jeep continued to move forward, with the flora on either side, and the road looked like everyone had died. There was no one around to ask for directions, and there were no signs of any locality or inhabitants.

Anirudh turned to the driver. "Bhaiya, which village is this?"

"Golakpur border Saheeb!" The Bihari driver responded courteously, sparing a glance at the high positioned officer sitting beside him.

Davidson, too, was looking outside.

"Is there a station nearby? Maybe a post office?"Anirudh asked again, and his words made Davidson search his folder map at once, his face furrowed in deep concentration. He finally located the station on the map and ordered the driver to head there.

"Hee yah Chaallo!" He pointed at the particular spot on the map.

The Jeep took a sharp turn towards the west.

Anirudh's heart was pounding in his chest as he leaned forward in the backseat of the car, his eyes fixed outside.

'Where are you Batuk? Where!'
He sighed to himself.

"No babu, no one got down here."
The station master at Golakpur junction folded his hands and spoke fearfully. The man's fear was palpable, radiating off him in waves, and Anirudh couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy. He knew all too well the kind of power the British officers held over the locals.

"Think hard!" Davidson, on the other hand, was not feeling particularly sympathetic. His face had turned red with frustration, and he was practically seething with anger.
"A man, a young man of twenties and a young woman."

The station master gulped.
"No... No saheb."
He looked at Anirudh with helpless pleading eyes. He stuttered and stumbled over his words, his eyes darting back and forth between the two men.

Finally, Anirudh spoke up, his voice calm and steady.
"Listen, don't be afraid. We are looking for my brother, he's... Well, is there any other way one can reach Faridpur?" he asked, trying to diffuse the tension in the air.

"Faridpur Railway station."
The station master replied fearfully with a confused expression.

"Of course Faridpur station, do we think we're that dumb! That's the first place we looked!" Davidson yelled at the man.

"Sor... Sorry sahib!"

"Is there any other way?" Anirudh asked calmly, contrary to the loud pounding of his heart.

The station master's face lit up with a flicker of hope.
"Jaa... Jaamtala station Babu," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"It's very small, hardly people get down there... But... But it could be a way."

Anirudh's heart leapt at the prospect of a lead, but Davidson was less impressed.

Anirudh couldn't help but think of a raging storm, the wind whipping through the trees and lightning illuminating the sky.

"Where is this station? How far?" He asked the man instead.

"Six miles!"
The station master muttered fearfully.

"Damn it!" he exclaimed, stomping his feet in frustration.
"For goodness sake!" He turned towards Anirudh and looked in his eyes.

"Anirudh, I can't have my platoon following me on this personal errand. I'll have to let them leave for Chattagram." He paused. "But, I'll come with you."
He placed a hand on Anirudh's muscular chiseled shoulder, standing tall and proud even in that moment of crisis.
"Don't worry mate, will find your brother, and we'll find Meera."
Paul Davidson patted his arm gently.

.....................................................

"Can you fix me up like her?" Raimoti Mukherjee pointed at the large oil painting hanging on the whitewashed wall beneath the stairs. There were three other paintings in a row along with it, their placement a little misfit, as if to hide them from the eyes of the passersby. Raimoti's gaze was fixated on the second in the row, and a melancholy engulfed her like a heavy fog on a winter morning.

"This woman?" Bhromor Bai stood with her hands on her hip, her dark arched brows furrowed like a raging storm. She looked at the picture with disdain, as if it was a reminder of something unpleasant. "Isn't this one of his dead wives?"

Raimoti let out a heavy sigh and nodded her head slowly, her pain visible in her eyes like a wounded animal.

"Yes. Mukta. She was my friend. He killed her." The words fell out of her mouth like leaden weights, heavy with the burden of sorrow.

Bhromor Bai narrowed her eyes at the portrait further, studying the features of the dead woman. Then she turned to look at Raimoti. With a swift motion, she lifted the end of Raimoti's saree, revealing her face. Raimoti's beauty was unearthly, like a rare flower in full bloom, with hazel eyes and dark lashes that framed them like a curtain.

"Look at you." Bhromor Bai touched her chin lightly, and Raimoti shivered at her abrupt touch. "You pretty little thing. No wonder the sacrosanct has given his heart to you. No wonder the old snake dreams to fuck you every night, that bastard!"

Raimoti's caution grew at the sudden exposure, like a rabbit caught in the open by a predator. She looked around nervously to ensure no one was there, and then she quickly pulled the saree to cover her head once again.

"Don't... What if someone sees?"

Bhromor Bai pursed her lips, her expression serious. "No one would. Maybe a few servants, but all men are dead asleep this morning after what I did to them!" She let out a hearty laughter that echoed in the hallway like the sound of thunder.

Raimoti looked conscious, her eyes darting around nervously like a bird caught in a cage, very unlike of her natural self. But this little caution she needed to maintain for Satya's sake.

"Can you make me look like her or not?" She asked again, her voice quivering with excitement and anticipation.

Bhromor Bai's expression changed suddenly, like a cloud shifting from grey to white. "You are fairer, taller, if I can gauge correctly, and this dead girl had long curly hair." She remarked thoughtfully. "But it's doable."

Raimoti gasped happily and held her hand, like a child who had just been promised a sweet treat.

"Tonight then!" She exclaimed, her face lit up like a beacon of hope.

Bhromor Bai nodded in assurance, her eyes glinting with a mischievous gleam.
"It's that bastard Shashi's fulsojja tonight, with his child bride." She spoke and then spat at the words.
"Another innocent flower he's ready to crush and destroy."

"I know!" Raimoti looked determined "And I want to teach him a lesson of his life this time."
She breathed firmly.

..............................................

Anirudh and Officer Davidson's jeep bumped and jolted along the uneven dirt road for two hours until they finally arrived at Jaamtala railway station. It was a forgotten place, abandoned and desolate. The station itself was a broken down shack, weathered and beaten by the elements. The paint was peeling, the windows were cracked, and the roof was caved in at places. Inside, the station master's room was barely lit by a single flickering lightbulb, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. The furniture was old and creaky, and the air was thick with the scent of musty books and damp wood.

Anirudh and Officer Davidson were in a hurry, and they didn't waste any time. They rushed to the station master's door and knocked hard, startling the old man out of his slumber. He was a frail and weathered figure, with deep-set wrinkles on his face that spoke of poverty and hardship. His hair was gray and wispy, and his eyes were sunken and tired.

Officer Davidson slammed his hand on the wooden table, causing the old man to jump in fright.
"Have you seen a young man here with a woman in a white saree?" he demanded.

The station master trembled with fear, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He murmured incoherently, unable to form a proper sentence. Anirudh noticed his distress and spoke in a gentle voice. "Don't be afraid, we're here to ask your few things. We are looking for someone," he said.

The old man looked at Anirudh, and for a moment, his eyes narrowed down in confusion. "Babu?" he asked, unsure of what to make of the situation, as if he had recognised him from some past.

Anirudh frowned, sensing that something was amiss.

"Do I know you?" Anirudh asked, and the old man shook his head in negation.

"Have you met a man who looks like me then?"
Anirudh persisted, asking the station master repeatedly if he had met a man who looked like him. The old man scratched his head, clearly struggling to recall.

"You look familiar Babu!" The old station master sank down on the broken chair. "Umm... Two weeks, no no... Ten days I think," he said eventually. "A young man, he got down here by mistake. He was asking about the way to Madhupur village."

Anirudh and Officer Davidson exchanged a sharp glance, both of them realizing that they were on the right track.

Which village?" Davidson barked, making the station master tremble in fear.

"Maa... Madhupur, Sir. It's a small village, outskirts of Faridpur," the old man stammered. "He... He looked like him, much younger!" He pointed at Anirudh fearfully.

Anirudh and Davidson's eyes lit up at the mention of the village. They knew they were getting closer to their target. Madhupur village then, and as they don't have a post office, Meenarani Devi probably had gone to the nearest post office to post her letters to his uncle. Faridpur!

Without wasting any time, they jumped back into the Jeep and sped off in the direction of Madhapur village, the map didn't have it marked. The sound of the engine echoed through the deserted streets, and the Jeep disappeared in a cloud of mud and smoke, leaving the station master standing alone in his dilapidated cabin.

'Batuk... You better be safe!'

Anirudh told himself, counting seconds in anticipation and Davidson let out a deep sigh, moving the steering in an one eighty degree.

"Meera would be safe, won't she?"

"Huh?"

"Meera, mate. I just can't imagine that poor girl in any more trouble." He murmured to himself.
"She has had a lot, Jesus! She deserves nothing but peace now. May the Lord bless her." He crossed.

Anirudh nodded his head, halfheartedly.
"Amen."
He sighed.