Maya had sharpened the knife. She had practised with it the whole day. She would strike in such a way that there would be no escape. Even if Eshwardas woke up, he would be mortally wounded.
When the clock struck twelve and she could hear Eshwardas’s loud snores, Maya got up with the knife in her hand but she was shivering violently. Fear and resolve, misgivings and revulsion together made her take one step forward and one step back. The house and sky were in a whirl. Everything in the room seemed to be spinning. But in a second, the fever ebbed and her heart clouded with fear. She reached the room where Eshwardas was sleeping and halted. Tears flowed down her eyes. Oh, I am so weak. The man who ruined my life, who destroyed my happy world, who made my existence desolate, who turned my fertile life into a desert and threw me in the fires of hell . . . I’m still unable to take revenge. Those women, who fought with swords and guns in the battlefields and willingly sacrificed themselves on the burning pyres of their husbands, were my sisters too. She imagined Mr Vyas standing in front of her, telling her: ‘Finish the job, avenge me; my soul is thirsty for revenge; will you let me suffer like this forever?’ Was this the true test of her love? These thoughts created an emotional turmoil in her heart. Her eyes reddened, she bit her lips and tightened her grip on the knife. She felt almost intoxicated. She entered the room but by now Eshwardas had woken up. A faint light came from the lantern in the room. Hearing her footsteps, he sat up and paled on seeing the apocalyptic vision of Maya walking towards him with the unsheathed dagger.
He jumped up from the bed and asked in a scared voice, ‘What is it, sister? Why are you carrying this knife?’
Maya replied, ‘This knife is thirsty for your blood because you murdered my husband.’
Eshwardas paled. ‘Me?’
‘Yes, you. You killed my husband in Lahore when he was there for a case. Do you deny it? My husband’s spirit told me about you.’
‘You are Mr Vyas’s wife?’
‘Yes. I am his unfortunate wife and you are the one who caused me to suffer this widowhood. You have been kind to me but no amount of kindness can quell my heart. It will only be satisfied with your death.’
Eshwardas looked at Maya with pleading eyes and said, ‘If that is your decision then I present my head to you. If my death can bring any solace to your heart then I’d gladly die. But just as you feel duty bound to avenge your husband’s murder, I felt it was my duty to kill Mr Vyas. You are aware that he went to Lahore to fight a political case. But I could not watch the way he used his legal acumen to help the police create false testimonies and destroy the lives of helpless, innocent young men with ruthlessness and heartlessness. Those days the court used to be filled with spectators. Everyone cursed him. I knew the reality of the case so it was not enough for me to just curse or abuse him. What can I say? Mr Vyas turned every lie into truth knowingly and with great skill. He sent many young men to the gallows. Many mothers are weeping bitterly for their lost sons today because of him and many women are forever cursed to be widows. I am not scared of police torture. We don’t expect anything else from them. The police force is full of scoundrels and debauchers. The government has created this department with the sole purpose of crushing the citizens. But we pin our hopes on the lawyers. We respect them. They are the top breed of educated and aware men. We get very angry when we see these men dancing to the tune of the police. I was a fan of Mr Vyas. But I started hating him when I saw him torturing innocent men so they would confess to crimes that they had not committed. The poor accused used to be hung upside down for entire nights. Only to make them confess to the crimes that they had not committed. Chilli smoke used to be thrust into their noses. Mr Vyas didn’t just watch all this happen in front of him. In fact these things were done on his instigation.’
The hardness on Maya’s face receded gradually. In its place was righteous anger. ‘What proof do you have for all that you are saying?’ she asked.
‘Everything I said is common knowledge. Even a child in Lahore knows it. I saw all this with my own eyes. I can give you no other proof. Their only crime was that they were the true sons of this soil and spent all their time helping and educating ordinary people. They would go hungry themselves but they would not let the police and the rulers torture the citizens of this country. This was their crime and to punish them for this, Mr Vyas connived with the police.’
The knife fell from Maya’s hand. Her eyes watered, and she said, ‘I did not know that he was capable of all this.’
Eshwardas said, ‘Don’t think for a moment that I am levelling these charges against your husband because I am scared of your knife. I have never cared for my life. If you do not believe me then pick up this knife and end this life. I will not stop you. If you can’t do that, then call the police. They will kill me easily. It won’t be difficult to collect evidence against me. I would have confessed but I do not think that I have committed a crime. If by ending one life I have saved thousands more then it is not murder. I only want to
