THE WAIL!!

She shuddered! She woke up, she was sweating profusely. No, she did not have a fever. Slowly, she joined her hands and began praying. Yes, she is alive today and all thanks to the Almighty-the creator and the Savior.

 Arunima Basumataree was wondering what exactly went wrong, that she was facing the wrath of her own brethren in the village. The villagers with whom she shared a very cordial relation sharing their best and worst times, how could they forget her contribution in changing the face of the village? How could they forget that her endearing efforts have brought electricity and water in the once neglected trouble torn village Phulguri as it lay 250 kms away from Sonitpur. How could the villagers just blindly ignore her contributions and just listen to the dictates of that devilish Babu Ram Narzary?

 Arunima’s eyes welled up as she sat thinking of the golden days of her courtship with her love and husband Maheshwar who died a few years ago of Malaria. Her thoughts flowed to the days of her courtship when both of them were in their teens, the golden green villages, the crystal clear waters of the Dikhou, the winking of the fish and birds. Her face lit up and she passed a little grin when she remembered how her lover plucked a wild orchid climbing a 50 feet tall tree just to impress her during the Bwisagu festival. She proudly tied it around her thick wavy hair as she wore her new Dokhna and Jumgra much to the envy of many of her friends.

Arunima smiled sweetly when she remembered the day of her marriage with Maheshwar and how he boldly held her hand, not caring about any sly remarks from the village women while she crossed the pedestal for the first time. Memories of the good times with Maheshwar reverted back; she remembered how he would return from the fields everyday and hug her tight amidst his strong arms and chest and ask her to give him a glass of water and something to eat. She waited for this moment every evening and prepared delicacies for him everyday, family life for the duo was blissful. Later, as the sun set in he would play on the flute in the silent evenings while she cooked on his favourite pork curry or sour fish curry.

Arunima’s eyes shone when she told her husband that she was expecting their first child. Maheshwar just took her in his arms and jumped with joy, he was going to be a father! Yes, he was very happy that day! She smiled when she remembered how Maheshwar took extra care for her during her pregnancy; he would complete all the work before going to the fields. Eight months later their son Raja was born and Maheshwar took utmost care of his family. Life passed on happily for the trio. She sighed when she remembered the dreadful cyclonic night when her seventeen year old son Raja died from just three days of fever. She cried remembering the words of Dr. Phukan who asked her to admit Raja to the hospital as he was suffering from Malaria. She just ignored Dr. Phukan as she believed in Babu Ram Narzary’s holy water. She threw away the Quinine tablets as asked by Narzary and gave the holy water and the sacred thread to her son. Raja was dead!!

 In a moment Maheshwar and Arunima’s happy family was ruined. All their dreams of a better education for their only child were smashed. Both of them cursed themselves for listening to Narzary. They knew had they listened to Dr Phukan their son would have been alive.

Arunima remembered how she and Maheshwar decided that enough is enough. They pledged to save the lives of the villagers; they decided that with the help of Dr. Phukan they would go on a door to door campaign on the causes and symptoms of Malaria and also sensitize the people on the need of going to a hospital and not to a priest like Babu Ram Narzary. This invited wrath from Narzary; Arunima remembered how the goons of Narzary warned her to stop her campaigning. Maheshwar was missing for the past seven days; her house and cattle shed has been burnt down. Her paddy field has been destroyed and even there were talks of stripping her off because she was evil and was bringing in misfortune to her village. She fears the worst for Maheshwar, her husband and only support.  But what could she do, she was helpless. She had run off from the village under the cover of darkness with the help of Dr Phukan.

Arunima shuddered thinking how the illiterate villagers could connect her to all the misfortunes taking place in the village because of their own faults. She thought how can she be at fault if Khaplang Kai’s grand-daughter passed away of Malaria, or Jitu Bodo died of small pox? She was in no way connected to any of these tragic incidents, then why are the villagers after her life?

The incidents over the past few days have taken a toll in her frail fifty-year old body; she began wailing all alone in her dark room of the rehabilitation unit. The pain of losing her teenage son and the sudden disappearance of her husband has broken her into shreds. Suddenly, Arunima stopped crying, No, she can’t afford to lose her sanity; she needs to fight back against the injustice, against the torture. She needs to prove, she is not a WITCH!!! She got determined, she will tell the truth to the villagers about Babu Ram Narzary’s wild dream of owning her, and how her resistance has caused a heart burn. She needs to protect many others like her; she needs to fight the superstition. She felt stronger; she slowly got up and dialled a number in the old telephone lying in a corner of the shabby room!!!