Fire Soul

“My lord, a messenger has come from the east,” announced Makaran Sambhu Asan, looked up from the book he was reading. It certainly seemed like an odd hour for a messenger to arrive and then again, he had been waiting on for a response from a certain someone from the east for months now. Sambhu Asan signaled Makran to bring in the messenger There were few routes into Madera that escaped the eyes of the village guardsmen. Sambhu Asan who was well aware of the protected boundaries had sent specific instructions to his acquaintance to enter via one of the many forest routes that connected to Madera through an underground tunnel. The tunnel itself was a well-protected secret and built on months of hard work of Makaran and his men under Sambhu Asan’s guidance. The opening to the tunnel was covered with a strong double wooden door, well camouflaged by leaves and could be opened only from the village end by one of Makaran’s men who stayed always on guard. Presently the messen...

“Mother don’t worry. Sambhu Asan taught us today that the sacred text says a husband must not harm his sick and hungry wife. He must wait for her fever to go away before she may be punished. You go to the room and lie down. I will tell father you are ill. In a few days from now he will forget” consoled Kanchi. Kalyani was pleasantly surprised by her daughter’s quick thinking.  Sambhu Asan’s training was indeed doing her a world of good, she herself wouldn’t have known to come up with an excuse like that. Sambu Asan was the revered advisor of Madera. It was alleged that since he was half man and woman, he possessed twice the strength, intelligence and fury than everyone else. Even so, Sambhu Asan perhaps was the only person that showed some concern for the women folk in Madera. They could meet him with his woes and he would lend his ears with empathy, offering guidance and solace as he deemed fit. He was the mediator that had saved many a woman from the cruel punishments...

“Mother, I need more soup!” Kesu demanded as he lapped up the last drop of soup from his bowl. Kalyani felt desolate staring into the pot, there was barely five spoonsful left and she needed to save something for Kanchi, his sister. She herself had nothing to eat so far but the kids needed to be fed first. It wasn’t going to be long before they too realised what hunger for days on end felt like, initially as the constant grumbling in the stomach, then the gut-wrenching cramps, and as days progressed the burning taste of the reflux from their empty bellies, and eventually the inability to eat even a morsel   that has been gathered after much difficulty, without feeling completely nauseous. Yes, the hunger oxymoron. The famine had hit them hard this year, leaving her with the option to feed just the kids while she chewed upon the few dried coconut kernels saved up from the previous year. Her husband Pachan was off in search of work in the next village and w...