BISWAJIT
Anny finally planned to escape.
At dawn she left home stealthily. Her nostalgic eyes took parting look at home. She marched away quickly.
Was something there, following her? On reaching the bus terminus she noticed a clear silhouette on the wall of the waiting room. Nonetheless, she had to wait. Sitting coiled at a corner, she started texting to the gentleman she was waiting for: Come quick. I’m …
Like a thunderbolt something thudded upon and lifted her off the ground. It was too quick to react.
She discovered herself in a pair of strong hands carrying her to a car. The stranger drove the car like a bullet.
It stopped near some bus stop. The masked driver removed sticker-tape from Anny’s mouth.
Anny shouted, ‘Hey, what do you want?’
‘Nothing. Return home.’ indifferent, calm reply.
‘Never. I love the man I was escaping with. I hate my home’
‘Do you know who he is?’
‘Quite well. We met in Gymnasium. He loves me. He promised me a beautiful life’
‘He’s old enough to be your father’
‘So what? We’ll have a good life together’
‘Yah, good life; for a week’
‘What?’
‘He’s a player. He spoils lives’
‘Why should I trust you!’
‘Don’t trust. Return home’
‘But…’
‘Today he’ll be arrested for trafficking. The police has got sufficient evidence’
‘But how can you be so sure?’
…
‘It’s my dad; biological’
The man disappeared with his car.
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Photo: K S Brooks
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BISWAJIT