Anand
927 Words
The camp broke sunrise. The possibility of another attack did not allow them to rest for longer, especially after the second caravan left.
Salim Khan and Chotu Kaka were loading the camels in silence.
Ramu sat beside a kneeling camel while Salim adjusted the saddle straps. His head felt strangely heavy. The wound where his arm had once been burned constantly. The world seemed distant. Muted. As though he were watching everything through a layer of dust.
Anand sat several paces away. No one spoke to him. No one looked at him.
At last he turned to Ramu.
“What is that thing?”
His voice sounded tired.
No answer.
For a long moment only the wind spoke.
Then a strange smile appeared. Not angry. Not surprised. Simply exhausted.
“So that’s it.”
Anand laughed quietly. A broken sound.
“You still can’t tell me, can you?”
Ramu held his head with the left hand.
“The thing we crossed half of Rajasthan for.”
“The thing that caused so many lives.”
He shook his head.
“Even now you still can’t tell me what it is.”
“Anand—” Ramu was almost moaning with the pains from his wound and his heart.
But Anand kept talking.
“We met when we were fourteen.”
His voice had become very calm.
“You became my best friend since day one.”
He swallowed.
“No.”
“My brother.”
“I came on this trip because you asked.”
His eyes glistened.
“I left my wife.”
“My parents.”
“My son.”
The mentioning of Mahadu nearly broke him.
Silence.
The desert stretched endlessly around them.
“I would have come anyway.”
Anand said.
“Do you understand?”
“I wanted to come because I missed the old days when we used to study, eat, live together.”
“If I were given more information, at least I could have made better judgement.”
His voice trembled.
“You never considered what it would cost me.”
A bitter smile crossed Anand’s face.
“I thought I was your brother.”
Anand whispered.
“But maybe I was just useful.”
Ramu stared at him. He looked lost, as if he could not comprehend what Anand just said. His head felt burning. He felt he could hear what Anand said but the words felt like floating in the air. He was not sure if it was the agony or shock.
Salim stepped forward.
“We have to leave.”
Someone helped Ramu onto his camel.
Someone handed him a water skin.
Someone tightened the saddle.
The caravan began to move.
Slowly.
Silently.
Passed Anand, who sat without moving, nor saying one more word.
The bells started ringing.
One after another.
⸻
Ramu remembered none of it clearly.
Only fragments.
Voices.
Pain.
Heat.
The smell of camel leather.
The constant throbbing in his missing arm.
In a half-conscious status there was an awareness that Anand was not with them anymore, but the fever wrapped itself around him like heavy cloth. Broken pictures of the attack, the sound of the gunshots, the funerals, the unreal feeling of the empty arm… they kept flashing back in his head. The view in front of his eye felt deforming. His soul felt like a kite, only tied to this world with a faint string.
Hours later, Ramu’s consciousness gradually came back. Slowly he felt himself waking up from a dream. His vision got a bit clearer. His mind, too.
Then, he started remembering Anand’s words.
“You became my best friend since day one.”
“If I were given more information, at least I could have made better judgement.”
“I thought I was your brother.”
“But maybe I was just useful.”
Ramu’s eyes snapped open. His heart slammed against his ribs. For the first time since the attack, something broke through the fever.
“No.”
His voice was barely a whisper.
“No, Anand.”
The camel lurched beneath him. Ramu grabbed the reins with his remaining hand. Panic flooded through him.
“No, Anand. I didn’t intend to use you. No. I didn’t know the consequence of this trip. No, Anand. What you said was not true.”
He pulled hard.
“Turn around!”
Salim looked back. Startled.
“TURN AROUND!”
The shout tore from his throat.
He pulled the reins with all the strength he had left.
The camel lurched, then turned.
When Anand’s outline showed from distance, Ramu barely waited for the camel to stop. He threw himself from the saddle and stumbled across the burning sand.
One step.
Then another.
He fell.
Dragged himself up.
Ran again.
Ahead, Anand was right there. Still sitting exactly where they had left him.
A surge of hope burst through Ramu.
Thank you, Krishna.
He almost cried.
Ramu staggered the last few yards and dropped to his knees before him. Then he froze.
Anand had never moved.
His eyes remained fixed on the horizon where the caravan had disappeared.
Beside him were everything Salim Khan and Chotu Kaka had left for him.
Two camels.
Water.
Food.
Carefully arranged.
Ramu’s breath caught in his throat.
“No…”
The word came out as little more than air.
His remaining hand trembled as he reached for Anand’s shoulder. With infinite care, Ramu drew Anand toward him. He cradled him awkwardly with his single arm and rested Anand’s head against his own chest.
- Writer
