Flames OF Paradise - Season 1 - Episode 24

7 years ago

Flames OF Paradise - Season 1 - Episode 24

‘He will survive albeit with a massive headache and bad bruise.’ Roshan said in a clipped voice. Turning towards her, he saw her state of clothes, and her trembling body, her bruised face and said tersely,
‘When you women can’t handle such situations, why don’t you for once listen to what we advise you.’
‘But… but I was getting worried and thought maybe you have been caught… ’ Snigdha started guiltily.
‘And what if I had been caught? Would you have rescued me?’ Roshan barked, his expression hooded, dark eyebrows rising with exasperation.
‘Not really, but Roshan… I had to check…’ Snigdha gained courage.
‘Enough Snigdha. You have caused enough trouble. Do you realise what would have happened if I hadn’t reached on time?’ Roshan pushed his hands in his hair and turned away, his body taut with tension.
Snigdha stood there feeling guilty, sorry and terribly uncomfortable. Suddenly, the shock and tension enveloped her and she started trembling madly. Clutching her torn Phiran to her chest, she slowly turned around and stumbled towards the ditch.
Roshan followed her and as they reached, he stopped her by keeping his hand on her shoulder.
‘I am sorry for shouting at you. But you make me feel angry and impatient with your irresponsible behaviour.’ Roshan’s said in a gruff voice.
‘I know. But it’s not my fault that I’m stuck here in midst of danger and death!’ Snigdha said in a dejected tone.
Roshan turned her towards him and looked at her somberly for several seconds.

‘I think we should leave the place as soon as possible. If this guy can loiter around, others will not be far away. We must cross the jungle before its dark. After that we have some more miles to cross. Hopefully, we will find a cottage or hut where we can take refuge. But, at the moment, we must hurry.’ Roshan said urgently, his hand gripping her shoulders lightly. Snigdha nodded. Roshan jumped inside the ditch to take her backpack and his scarf.
‘Your lip is bleeding.’ Roshan said pointedly. ‘Do you have antiseptic or something…?’

Without saying anything, Snigdha rummaged through her bag with one hand, taking out the antiseptic. She also found a hair clip which she pinned to her torn Phiran neckline, feeling relieved now that it was pinned neatly. Before she could apply the ointment, Roshan stopped her and offered her water.
‘Just clean it once’. Roshan’s gaze was gentle.
Snigdha took some water in her mouth and gargled, wiping her lips with a wet tissue. As she took out the ointment, Roshan’s hands took the tube from her and he gently applied some ointment at the corner of her lips. Snigdha suddenly felt shy and awkward and dropped her lashes, hiding her discomfort, yet feeling tremors of reaction travel down her body. Roshan silently applied the cream and capped the tube before giving it to her. His expression was inscrutable, face blank. Her backpack was hoisted by him on his shoulders.
Soon they started towards the direction he mentioned, their walk brisk, quick and careful, lest they slip while walking on the now melting snow.
She lost track of the time, and could feel darkness descend fast and cold, like a thick blanket shrouding everything in deep blackness. Roshan’s hand went inside his Phiran, and out came a thin, pencil torch, its straight golden beam, illuminating the path directly in front of them.
‘You speak from first-hand experience…’
Roshan frowned and said in a serious tone. ‘I have been witness to some very heinous bomb attacks, military raids and encounters, and riots all over the world. Have been a war journalist.

My last sojourn was in Syria where I saw some gory massacres, mindless violence, with helpless women and children being the worst victims of the Syrian army. As a journalist, we are taught to be objective but how can I be when I see blood bath all around me? When innocents are killed and no one seems to be able to stop all the violence. And all in the name of mindless revolt and retaliation against the civilians. What can a journalist do? You know what is going on is wrong but you are helpless. The international community is helpless. You get s----d in the mire of death and drudgery, in the aftermath of wars and bloodshed, where you taste death and desolation with your own eyes. In case you survive, your nightmares don’t let you live.’ A harshness had crept in Roshan’s deep voice, his face contorted with pain. He suddenly stopped in mid stride, his chest finally heaving. His right hand fleetingly passed over his eyes. Sheen of sweat was visible on his brow. He took out the metal water sipper and took a swig of water, then offering her the bottle.

Snigdha quietly drank a few mouthfuls, taking care not to drink too much. They had to save water for more tricky situations. Roshan looked around and observed,
‘We are more than half way through Snigdha. I think it’s already dusk and nightfall will be within few minutes. We must look for a safe and dry place to park for the night. We will have to start at dawn now. It’s time to stop our sprinting. Do you want to attend to nature calls before it’s too dark?’ Roshan asked matter of fact. Snigdha flushed with embarrassment at this subtle hint to relieve herself. Indeed her bladder was full and she needed to go desperately.
Taking her silence for a ‘yes’ Roshan flashed the torch towards a cluster of bushes few furlongs away and handed her the torch. Hesitantly, Snigdha walked towards the dark cluster.
When she got back, Roshan was sitting on a broken tree trunk, lighting up a cigarette. The reddish glow of his cigarette, and the curling smoke made it evident that he was in a pensive mood. He didn’t finish his cigarette and crushed it on the ground with his shoes, pushing it under the wet leaves just in case anyone finds it and looks for the trail.
‘Trying to quit. Not a great habit.’ Roshan commented laconically looking at her silent form, observing him. ‘Now it’s my turn to go!’ he said smiling. But his smile vanished as soon as she took a swift breath and looked around alarmingly.
‘Come on. I deserve to empty my bladder too!

Don’t be scared. I’m right there behind that tree. OK? Be a good girl.’ He grinned before taking the torch and going behind the tree.

Snigdha looked around. The wood appeared eerie and threatening in the night. Every crackle and whisper took a gargantuan proportion, making her alert and wary. Nocturnal sounds of crickets, hooting owls and inane animal sounds made the hair on her body stand out and prickle. She peered in the darkness and felt sharp, pinpoints of wavering light in the distance. As if someone was coming towards them with a lamp or torch?

She looked towards the tree where Roshan had gone to relieve himself and willed him to come back. Why was he taking so much time for God’s sake? Her feet were twitching to run towards him but she refrained from behaving in this puerile manner and waited with bated breath for him to come back. It seemed like ages when he got back, his feet making soft crunching noise on the now wet and gooey leaves and ground.