Matthew:

I stopped fidgeting when I noticed the Professor burning holes in my face with his ferocious glare.

I looked at my watch. Just ten minutes more for this lengthened lecture to end.

Usually, I took notes of what the man, Mr. Jude Dermont Willow, told us. But today, I couldn't quite focus. The morning's events were running through my head like a fire and all I wanted to do was go back to those protesters and stop them before things took an ugly route.

There was Anvesha with them. My only Indian friend and...

Her high held ego was the problem with her; she didn't think twice before doing things which could lead her to serious problems.

The British could get rid of them, easily. They could ask their guards to just--I shuddered at the unspoken thought.

No...no, this won't happen.

I looked at my left to see Alex scowling at me, before he turned to face the Professor and hear his mindless chatter. What's with him, though?

I shook my head and prayed to Mary for this lecture to be over. As if hearing my thoughts, the Professor ended the session and dismissed the class. Not waiting for neither Jordan or Alex, I shooted up from my desk and ran out of the room.

I quickly located the exit gate and was about to leave when I heard a shout from behind. "You know Matthew, the car must be faster. But if you would really like to walk and waste your energy, you are absolutely entitled to do so."

I stopped in my tracks and turned around. Jordan smirked at me while Alex continued to stare at me with a face devoid of any emotion.

I gave Jordan a sheepish look and walked towards him. Silently we all walked towards the carriage-with- an-engine, which is also called a car, if I must tell you.

The Indian driver jumped out of the car and opened doors for us. Alex, like every time, decided to sit in the front passenger seat beside the driver.

I didn't know how he managed to do that. He himself called Indians "filthy" and then he sat beside one, one who wore a bushy moustache and had hair drenched with tonnes of oil. His white coloured uniform was rather dirty. His skin was the colour of mud.

I couldn't help but compare this man to Anvesha. She was such a a beautiful Indian woman. Her clear skin was the colour of almond milk and a peachish natural blush seemed to cover her soft cheeks.

A sigh escaped my lips. I was forgetting that this poor Indian hardly had money to eat food, that it wasn't possible for him to clean up every day, unlike Anvesha, whose father was a respectable and wealthy man. She received every amenity an Indian could enjoy at this time.

A proud smile made way to my lips. She had everything, yet here she was fighting for people who couldn't have that. It was irony in itself, but it wasn't a bad one.

"Matt, stop smiling like that. You look like a lunatic." Jordan drawled, in an amused tone.

My head snapped towards the direction of his voice and to my astonishment, he was standing outside the car. I looked around and realized that we had already reached the destination.

I covered my embarrassed look and jumped out of my car. Not wasting another minute, I quickly rushed towards the main office building. The surroundings were eerily quite.

When I reached there, I was taken aback. Not a single Indian soul was lurking outside the gates right now. Guards stood with their head held high.

Where were they? I thought.

Finding no excuse to just stand there, I turned around and walked to the apartments.

Many thoughts seemed to be forming in my mind.

Was there issue solved? That was next to impossible. Were any soldiers involved? And most importantly, was there any violence used?

I winced at the last question and prayed to God that nothing happened.

***

Anvesha:

"What, in the name of lord, is that dirt doing in front of the building?" The British guard said to his acquaintance, referring to us as "dirt".

My blood was beginning to boil at this moment. I wanted nothing more than to slap this man until he came back to his senses.

I raised my hand to silence my followers. Then I walked towards the tall guard. He had a beard around his lower face and his brown eyes stared at us like were nothing more than "dirt" of his shoes.

My fists clenched to my sides. I began, slowly and threateningly, "We want to see, any member of the council who can help us in this matter."

Both guards stared at me with wide eyes, until they broke into a laughter. The taller one looked at me up and down, disapproval clear in his eyes. "Ah, so you would like to meet a British official, woman?"

That guard spoke the word "woman" so icily, a chill went down my spine. But I refused to pay heed to his comment.

"Yes, man, I would like to do exactly that." I said to him. I said "man" so derisively that even the guards were caught off guard.

The man caught my tonr and his face flushed red in anger. His hand clutched the rod he was holding, tightly and his knuckles turned white. He took menacing steps towards me, but I held my ground.

Staring straight into those stormy eyes, I raised my chin in defiance. The man growled. "I would rather die than take orders from a woman, that too an Indian."

I heard angry whispers from behind me. I knew that any second I would loose my temper, so I shut my eyes tightly.

It was the most difficult job to convince the villagers to protest on the tax-rise issue. They had stared at me like I was making a humourous speech. Some disagreed to join us because I was a woman. They seemed to think that listening to a woman was a great disgrace. The group of thirty to fifty I had were the people who were desperate enough to look past that issue. There were only seven to ten women I saw in that group.

"Get out of my sight, you slimy Indians, or things would get ugly." He roared to us. My eyes snapped open.

No one knew English but me. Only I understood what he was saying clearly, but my people weren't foolish. They quickly recognized the snideness in his tone.

I turned around and surveyed the group of people; the people who were giving each other with uncertainty in their eyes. Some looked angered, but some had the looks which said that they were ready to back out.

Horror seeped through me. I quickly shook my head and opened my mouth, "No! No! This man is only trying to scare us. He won't do anything until he receives order from the authorities. Don't stop! If we want change, then we need to do something to bring it about." I said in Hindi. I was desperate. I wanted the people to understand what I was saying.

An old man came in front. "Anvesha here can't give orders to us. She is a woman afterall. Men, do you think that we will be able to do anything? These people have crushed us beneath us. Do you want to loose what's still left with us? Do you?!" He shouted in Hindi to the people.

How dare he?

I stood there, frozen to the ground. An evil chuckle could be heard from somewhere behind me, but I was too shocked to move or say something. "I may not understand what he says, but looks like you are loosing your followers woman. You might want to stay at home, cook food and produce children for your husband. That's where you rightfully belong."

With the flickering emotions on the people's faces, the eyes filled with uncertainty and retreating steps the people took backwards, I was so shell shocked that I didn't even registered what the guard was speaking.

"What is wrong with you people!? What happened to your confidence about 'sending the British back to their homes', Rajeev? And what about you chacha? You were the first one to join me!" I shouted, angry yet dejected.

Rajeev, a young man of nineteen, looked away. Fear was the only thing written on his face. Like me, he belonged to wealthy family. But he was intent on joining us, which I was grateful for back then.

But now, I didn't want to trust anything or anyone, anymore.

That's when a feeling dawned on me. The realization snapped from my blindness for change.

These people weren't prepared.

They wanted to get their rights, but they didn't know in what way. Internally, they all feared the British. They all had felt the Britishs' oppression in one way or the other. They were unsure.

They had no choice.

My shoulders slumped down and a feeling of intense hopelessness filled me.

Everyone noticed this and they finally made their decision. A decision I no longer felt shocked from.

They turned around and left, their walk uncertain.

They just...left. Without a second glance. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

"So, you all are just going to give up?" I said slowly and hesitantly in Hindi, desolation weighing down on me.

No one turned around. Within a minute everyone was gone and the place was deserted.

I was the only one who stood there in front of the guards. I was left to be laughed at.

I heard the guards snicker behind me. Angry tears welled up in my eyes, wanting to be left to flow freely down my face, but I didn't let them. I held them tightly, the knot in my throat making it painful for me to speak.

I glared at those guards, even though my tears blurred my vision and ran out of there.

I ran and ran, not once looking at surroundings. The people I had believed in, the people who had believed in me, had just given up. They lost their faith in me. I wasn't able to give them what they deserved.

I failed my country's people.

I reached my home and tried to unlock the door, but my hands were shaking. The trembling fingers weren't letting me open the darned lock.

So I gave up and rushed to the forest behind my house.

The moment the clean forest air hit my nose, a soothing sensation filled me. It calmed me. All I wanted to do was sit there in the forest and never see the villagers again, whom I had failed.

I located a comfortable spot and sat down there, drowning in my wallowing self pity.

***

"Anvesha, what did you do?" my father said, slowly and calmly. But I knew that the calm on his face was far from what he was facing; what he was feeling.

He got to know everything, yet again from the villagers.

I bent my head down in shame. How can I tell him that I just wanted to do good...but I had failed miserably.

But the world seemed to stop when I heard his next words.

"Maybe I should listen to my friends, who tell me that I have given you too much freedom and I should marry you off in order to discipline you."

His calm tone didn't matter. No, it didn't matter the least.

The words he said, the words my father decided to say to me, rung in my head. They pierced my heart like a knife, slicing it...wounding it.

My chest constricted in pain, making it difficult for me to breathe.

I was frozen. I didn't move, too shocked by my father's statement to think properly.

"Yes, Anvesha, I would do exactly that. From today, I don't want you to roam around the village, forest or anywhere else after college. I will drop you there in the morning and pick you up in the afternoon. Besides this, I'm going to start looking for an eligible man to be your husband. Am I clear?"

I stared at him, the beads of moistness falling freely from my eyes. I opened and closed my mouth. It was too much...I was too hurt.

What had I done?

I had never seen this side of my father and I never wanted to.

Painful sobs escaped my lips. My body trembled with pain.

"Am I clear?" My father demanded, raising his voice.

I gave him a meek nod and rushed to my room.

I shut the doors and slumped down.

The sobs turned into painful wails. I cried, letting all the pent up frustration.

Did I deserve this for what I did?

***

Looks like a storm in about to brew in Ava's life.

Update: None.

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