Someone brought a lantern that illuminated a scene Tara could never have imagined.
Gayatri stared calmly at the gathering crowd. The spotless white saree she normally wore was splotched with red. And Layla lay at her feet, the hilt of a kitchen knife protruding from her chest.
“What happened, Gayatri-ma?” said Tara in a trembling voice.
“You’ve carried this burden all by yourself for far too long,” said Gayatri.
Tara walked up to them and dropped to her knees next to Layla, unable to believe that it had finally happened. Layla stared up at her with sightless eyes. Blood still oozed from the wound on her chest, the deep stain spreading on her kurta.
Tara waited for that feeling of elation to lift her up, a bubble of joy to grow within her, relief to flood her. The only thing that she felt was a deep sadness for the dead child in front of her. Dead because of a misguided attempt at revenge by Layla’s own mother. And Tara had been driven by the same desire: to avenge Suraj’s death. She had always thought revenge would taste sweet, but it was not so. The bitter taste in her mouth was unbearable.
“Why?” asked Tara. She looked up at Gayatri, who was wiping her blood-stained hands on her saree. She looked serene.
“Why what, Tara?”
“Why did you do this? It was my job. That’s why I came back.”
“I know,” said Gayatri. “I know more than you think I do.”
The rest of the village, along with the Panchayat, arrived and gathered around them. Raka pushed his way to the front and stood beside them. “Oh my God, Gayatri,” he said when he saw Layla. “What have you done?”
Both Tara and Gayatri ignored him.
“Know what, Gayatri-ma?” asked Tara. She looked closely at the smooth countenance that had always been tranquil, and a source of strength for her. Even now, there was not a flicker of fear on that face. How could the son of one so strong, turn out to be so weak?
“I know why you came back, Tara,” said Gayatri. “I also know what my son foolishly agreed to do, to save me. He told me after the deed was done and that is why I was determined to keep you safe with me. If you can find it in your heart to forgive Ananth, I will be very grateful.”
Tara glanced at Ananth, who had been standing there staring at his mother. He seemed to be in shock. She looked at Raka, who hadn’t uttered a word. This would probably be the last straw for him. How would he and the villagers react to a widow killing a child even if it was Layla? Would they use this as an excuse to throw her out?
“I wish you hadn’t, Gayatri-ma,” said Tara. She was angry at herself for letting Layla slip away. And at the villagers for being so blind.
The familiar clip-clop of hooves broke the silence and Lord Yama rode up to them. “It is time to go.”
Tara felt as if her feet had turned to lead. The realization that she would never see her family again crushed her. She hugged herself, trying hard not to sob in front of all the villagers. She wanted to beg Lord Yama for one more day, one more hour, so she could say goodbye to her mother. See Suraj’s face one more time. But she knew it was futile. No matter how much time she had with them, it would never be enough. It was best to go now.
Tara sighed. “I’m ready,” she said in unison with Gayatri.
‘What are you talking about?” said Tara. She looked from Lord Yama to Gayatri, who had stepped forward.
“I’m the one going with Lord Yama,” said Gayatri. “Not you, Tara. You still have a life to live.”
“No!” yelled Ananth. “You can’t leave me, Mother, I’ll be an orphan.”
Gayatri held out her arms and Ananth threw himself at her. “Listen to me,” she said after a moment. “You have to let me go. I’ll be a lot happier because I’ll be with your father at last.”
“I cannot let you do that, Gayatri-ma,” said Tara. “Lord Yama, I was the one who came to the Underworld, I was the one who should have killed Layla. You can’t take someone else in my stead.”
“But you didn’t, Tara. I killed Layla,” said Gayatri. She stepped up to Lord Yama. “Lord, you know that taking me would be a kinder, wiser thing to do. For all of us.”
Lord Yama looked at Gayatri, at Tara, then at the rest of the villagers. “These two members of Morni are the most hated, and are better than all of you put together,” he said. He was quiet for a long moment. “All right, Gayatri. I will take you instead of Tara.”
“No!” said Tara. “She did this for me. You said that once I came to the Underworld, I could not return to the land of the living.”
“Tara, I make the rules, and I also have the power to make exceptions,” said Yama. “You did not kill Layla, Gayatri did, so really, you have not completed what you set out to do.”
Tara flung herself into Gayatri’s arms. “Your son did so much to keep you alive and now you’re going to leave him, leave me?”
“Tara, it’s also because of his foolishness that I must go. This is to make up for what he did to you and your family. Will you please forgive Ananth, for my sake?”
Tara stepped back. “I don’t know if I can.”
Ananth hugged his mother tight, his face streaming with tears.
“You’ll be fine, Ananth. Just remember everything I have ever taught you. No good comes from harming anyone, even if it is for a good cause.”
Lord Yama turned the bull toward the forest. “Stay well, Tara. I hope that I never have to meet you again in your lifetime. Suraj’s soul is already safe with me, but I will send someone for Layla.” The bull started to move away and Gayatri followed.
Everyone watched her and Yama fade away into the dawn mist. Tara stood, listening to the sound of the hooves, until at last, it too died away.
Tara looked at the very dead Layla at her feet. Soon mother and daughter would be together in the Underworld and she couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that she wouldn’t have to face their wrath. Tiredness pressed down on her with a giant fist, grinding her into the earth.
“You were willing to sacrifice your life for Morni,” said Raka, “and we misjudged you. We let our beliefs and superstitions cloud our common sense. Can you ever forgive us, forgive me, Tara?”
“Me, too, Tara,” said Ananth, very softly. “Please?”
Tara stared at all of them for a long moment. She really did not want to, but what would she achieve by carrying the hatred around in her heart? It would poison the rest of her life. Was it possible they could change?
A sliver of sun peeped over the horizon. Tara watched the glow spread across the sky, turning grey to gold, and knew that no matter what happened, there was one person whom she could always rely on — herself.
And that was all she really needed.
“I forgive you,” she said.