Alex:

I walked through the woods, with a smile on my face. Usually, when I came here fishing for the past few weeks, I never thought that I would meet Anvesha here too. But, some things are meant to happen.

When I saw her coming towards the river, I was seated at the same place, but she was busy looking at the sky and then spreading her blanket and what not, that she didn't even see me.

One thing which was running through my mind, was that she denied having any relationship with Matthew. The thought made my heart light. But, why did it affect me? Why did I care if she is in a relationship with someone or not?

Was I infatuated with her?

No! That's so absurd! Whenever I meet her, it always ends in a lame argument or fight. How could that mean that I'm infatuated with her?

But you are always eager to bump into her. You always find ways to annoy her, so that she talks to you. You pay more attention to grooming yourself these days!

Stop! My conscience should just stop! I didn't try to make an effort for myself to look good for her. And, just thinking, it's next to impossible. Even if I do feel something, everyone knows we can never be together. These things can only happen in fantasies and imagination. And also, British women are far better in mannerism and looks.

Well not always...

Rubbish!

I shook my head, annoyed at myself. I finally reached the road, where the driver was waiting for me. He quickly jumped from his car when he saw me and grabbed the basket from my hands. He then proceeded to open the car doors for me. And soon we were off to the headquarters.

***

Anvesha:

"Papa, its getting cold. Should we take out the clothes from the trunk?"

It was the afternoon after college. My father looked towards me from where he had been seated. He was reading his newspaper, but I knew his thoughts were elsewhere, because the way he was staring at the same page of the newspaper for the past twenty minutes, it was clear that his mind was elsewhere.

"Hm?" He asked, dazed.

I got up from the floor where I was searching the rice for any adulterant (small pebbles mostly) and walked towards him. I kept a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Papa, what is bothering you?"

He hesitated, then patted the place beside him for me to be seated. After I was sat down he said, "Beta, you are of age now. I did not want to force this upon you, but there are many men out there who would love to take you as a bride."

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. I was beyond furious. Marriage is not what I was looking for in the near future. I wanted to get educated and then be a teacher to the underprivileged children.

But this was inevitable. I was lucky to get a father like mine, or else I would have been married for ten years by now with a man who was twice my age and caring for eight children. But eighteen was an age which appeared to be late for marriage. The people talked behind our backs.

A reason why we stay in the woods far away from the colonies is that the people there don't like us much. They call our thinking "absurd" and "useless". I still remember how my parents were taunted when we lived there. "A fifteen year old unmarried daughter? That's a shame to the society" they would say. My father grew impatient with them, and left the place. But how long can he ignore what people say? What the people think, as much as we appear that we do not care, still affects us in possible ways.

I cannot delay this any longer, I knew it. With a heavy heart, I said, "Papa, I'm not denying marriage...but...please give me some more time. I promise you I won't take much time in deciding."

"Of course Shona, I would never force my decisions on you". He kept a hand on my head and kissed my forehead.

Little did he know that my life was going to end after the marriage. No family would accept a bahu who was well educated. Everyone thought that women should stay at home and do house chores.

I sighed and went into my room.

There was something in the back of my mind which kept nagging me. A different kind of feeling...a feeling which asked me to deny my father decision, because I--

No! No! No!

I shook my head furiously and picked up the rice. I walked towards the kitchen and washed them.

I felt a pang in my stomach. Fury coursed through me.

I didn't want to marry!

***

I was sitting in the porch of our house drinking tea, when my eyes fell on the newspaper.

I read the headline. Written in bright letters, it was something I never wanted to read. A surge of fury ran through me.

I was shocked and my heart fell to the pit of my stomach. The British have decided to increase taxes on all food items and also to increase the land revenue by increasing the amount to be given to the Zamindar. My heart went to Devi and all the people out there who couldn't even afford a single meal for them.

I quickly grabbed the newspaper and ran towards my father.

"Papa, did you read this?" I said to him in an urgent voice.

He looked at the newspaper I was holding. A look of sadness crossed his features. "Yes, I read it earlier", he said in an equally sad tone.

I fell silent and sat beside him. What would the poor do now?

"Avi, don't let this get to you." My father said.

"How can I not papa? It doesn't matter for us if the taxes are increased or not. But what about the people who couldn't even afford two meals a day?" I said, my voice cracking at the end.

My father closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He always did this when he was thinking. "We can't do anything about this beta..." He said in a heartbreaking voice, like even he wanted to do something, but was helpless.

I nodded towards him and went to my bedroom. I grabbed my carry bag and told my father that I'm going to visit the village. He was hesitatant...he knew why I was going there. But I had to, so he allowed me.

I walked towards the village, with slow steps. I knew what was coming.

***

The sight presented in front of me was heartbreaking.

Women cried in the corners. Men had their heads in their hand...some even crying. The children were oblivious to what was happening. The younger people consoled their parents...but it was hard for them, with their own emotions weighing down on them.

I felt helpless. I wanted to do something. I wanted to tell those people that everything would be all right, and that they didn't have to lose hope. But how could I give them false hope?

I quickly walked towards a young mother, who looked like she wanted to cry and let her emotions out but couldn't do it with the baby in her hand. She looked towards me, her eyes pleading. My heart broke into pieces.

I took the baby from her and cradled it into my arms. The little boy had no idea about what was happening in his country. His mother ran inside her house, a kaccha house. I heard her silent sobs.

India's people were falling to pieces, right in front of those British's eyes. There mission was accomplished.

Some time in the evening, the woman came out. She gave me a sad smile and took the sleeping baby from my hands.

I was overwhelmed by everything that I was seeing. I wanted to meet Devi, but my heart couldn't bring myself to do it.

So I walked away from the village, without looking back.

I walked until I reached King's.

My eyes were blurred with unshed tears of anger and frustration. Looking at the sky, the first tear came running down my cheek.

I wanted to help them. I really wanted do something.

But I don't know what to do.

***

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