The Stolen Soul of Somita

Read the Prologue from The Stolen Soul of Somita……..

Prologue

A village in the Punjab, India

Shankar Lal awoke with a start and shot out of bed shaking his left leg furiously in an attempt to rid himself of the scorpion that was scurrying up it. Luckily for him the scorpion was only part of the weird dream he was having but unfortunately the screaming woman was not. He stood in the darkness and listened intently to the distant sound and realised the screaming was coming from somewhere in the village. He was normally a deep sleeper and would have slept through a marching brass band but the agonising screams of the woman had unnerved him and had chased away his sleep.

He walked across the hard clay floor of his room and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Lighting a kerosene lantern he slipped into his sandals and loosely wrapped his white turban around his bald head. Throwing a shawl around his bare shoulders he walked over to the front door of his small humble home and swung it open. The monsoon rain lashed into his house drenching the now fully awake Shankar Lal. He slammed the door closed to both the darkness and the rain and crept back into his bedroom fetching an umbrella from atop of a rickety closet.

Wrapping himself tighter with his shawl and now armed with his umbrella he once again opened the front door. The full force of the rain hit him like a tidal wave but this time he took a deep breath and leapt into the alley holding the umbrella as close as possible to his turban. He could still hear the screams of the woman but now her miserable cry was joined by other muffled voices.

Shankar Lal could not see ten yards in front of him so instead followed his ears and darted through the familiar narrow alleys of his village until he reached an open space. There on a grassy square in front of the baker’s store and by the light of a partially visible moon he saw a large crowd of people gathered.

The villagers were all in vain trying to placate the screaming woman who was sat on the muddy ground slapping her hands against her chest whilst continually shrieking. Shankar Lal ran towards the crowd and on reaching the first villager he tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Sangu, what’s happened?’ he asked.

The woman continued to shriek and was now pulling at her long and rain-soaked ebony hair.

‘Shankar Lal, it is terrible my friend, Saravati’s baby has disappeared and she has lost all her senses. She refuses to go inside and tell us what has happened,’ replied Sangu, taking refuge under Shankar Lal’s umbrella.

Shankar Lal looked towards the stricken woman sitting pathetically on the sodden mud pulling at her hair as if possessed by the devil himself.

‘We have to get her out of this rain, come Sangu,’ said Shankar Lal.

Shankar Lal followed by Sangu forced his way through the crowd who were all stood silently staring at the distraught woman.The two men knelt onto the muddy ground next to the grief-stricken woman.

‘Saravati, it is Shankar Lal, do not worry we will find your baby but first you must come inside and tell us what has happened.’

Shankar Lal handed his umbrella to an elderly woman who was standing behind him and then with the help of Sangu took Saravati by the arms and heaved her up. Saravati continued to wail and tried to resist the two men but they were far too strong for her and lifting her from the ground they led her the short distance to her home.

Kamal one of the village elders had prepared a hot mug of milk and was now sitting cross legged next to Saravati on her bed. Kamal tried to force her to drink the milk but was rebuffed by huge sobs.

Shankar Lal and Sangu stood by the bed while the rest of the villagers had returned to their homes.

‘Saravati please tell us what happened, we must contact the police.’ pleaded Shankar Lal, drying his face with a towel.

Saravati looked up and stared at Shankar Lal, and spoke through her tears, ‘I have already been to Mr Mukhaji’s house to use the phone but nobody opened the door and you know there is no other phone in the village,’ she cried. ‘The main road into the village has been flooded so there is no way of getting a message out until morning.’

Saravati breathed a huge sigh and tried hard to control her sobs. Kamal put an arm around her shoulders and again put the mug of milk to her lips.

‘Drink, it will make you feel better,’ assured Kamal.

This time Saravati grabbed the mug and took a small sip.

‘Where is your husband and kids?’ asked Sangu.

‘He and the girls have gone to visit relatives in town and will not be back until tomorrow. I cannot contact them and they would not be able to return because of the flooded road.’

‘Please tell us what happened so we can begin a search party,’ pleaded Shankar Lal.

Saravati’s expression was one of utter grief as she told of the events earlier that night.

‘I had just put Somita into my bed after feeding her milk and gone back to the tap to wash her bottle when I heard a noise coming from my room but thought that it must be the rain pattering against the shutters. After I had washed up I went back into check on Somita…’ Saravati’s sobs again grew louder. ‘I noticed the shutters were open and went to close them thinking the wind may have pushed them open, that’s when I noticed that Somita wasn’t in the bed any longer.’

Saravati broke down and cried uncontrollably onto Kamal’s shoulder. Sangu took a step towards Saravati wanting to comfort her but stopped as a young woman rushed into the room.

‘Sister-in law what has happened, is it true what they are saying?’ asked the newcomer.

Saravati looked up and suddenly her expression of grief was replaced by a look of pure venom. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her head scarf and standing up slowly walked up to the young woman and launched a slap with her right hand towards her, striking her full on the face. Manjula let out a shriek and stumbled backwards towards the open doorway. Sangu leapt forward and grabbed her just as she headed towards the hard stone floor. Saravati took a stride forward and launched another attack but Shankar Lal stood in her way and held her back.

‘What have you done with my baby?’ Saravati screamed.

Manjula, nursing her throbbing cheek stood next to Sangu with utter disbelief written on her face.

‘Saravati, why would Manjula take your baby, you are delusional, you need to rest and let us try to find Somita,’ said Shankar Lal sternly.

‘No!’ Saravati screamed, ‘she has always hated me and has taken Somita to make me suffer. I can see her laughing at me behind that fake look of concern.’

Saravati again lunged for Manjula but Shankar Lal held her back.

‘You best go Manjula,’ said Shankar Lal, ‘we will handle this.’

Manjula’s eyes filled with tears as she held her palms together as if to pray. ‘I know we have had our problems but I would never do anything to hurt you Saravati, I promise you,’ she cried.

Saravati turned her face away from the anguished woman and walked back towards the bed. Manjula wiping away her tears left the room.

‘Kamal keep Saravati here and try to keep her calm,’ instructed Shankar Lal.

He then turned to Saravati and in the most reassuring voice he could muster, softly spoke.

‘I promise we will do all that we can to find Somita, I am sure we will find her, do not worry.’

As he spoke the words Shankar Lal knew in his heart of hearts that Saravati would never again see her baby.

© Harbinder Mathadu 2014