It was unbearably hot, my whole body was soaked with sweat and something was poking into my back. Ah! I didn't even have the strength to move. Anyway, the dream was over. I had to go to the office… Oh wait, I forgot, I lost my job. A sudden thought struck my mind… One minute, how did I even get home? I had fallen under a moving truck… or had I not?
I lay there with my eyes closed, lost in these thoughts — had I been hit by the truck or not — when suddenly, a strong wave of water came from somewhere and drenched me. I was forced to open my burning eyes.
I was again in some dark place. It seemed like a dungeon, with doors made of iron bars. I saw the silhouettes of two women standing right next to my head. They grabbed me roughly by my arms and lifted me up. Holding me tightly on both sides, they dragged me out. I stumbled and staggered along with them. I should have been at home, in my bed. How did I end up here? What kind of sick joke was this?
What was this place? Long corridors stretched in every direction, each lit by torches. There was no one else around. They dragged me and threw me into a large water tank. My body had no strength, my mind was a whirlwind of chaos and fog. I couldn't stay afloat and sank into the water. With a powerful jerk, they pulled me out and, without any warning, a harsh slap landed across my face, million stars danced before my eyes. Without giving me a chance to recover, they beat me mercilessly like I was a piece of cloth being wrung out — right, left, and center — something I had never experienced before. I didn't even have the strength to resist; I just closed my eyes and endured the beating.
Half-dead, I was forced into a change of clothes and dragged through the corridors into another room, where they threw me inside. The doors slammed shut. I had no strength left; silently, I crawled to a corner and sat with my back against the wall. It was dim and cool there. A breeze drifted in from somewhere.
"Where am I? What is happening?"
I sensed another presence. I heard soft footsteps approaching. My eyes wouldn't fully open, and I was half-conscious. My heart raced uncontrollably, sweat drenched me as if I were having a heart attack. I shrank further into the corner, covering myself with my hands, too weak to take another beating.
Whoever it was came very close, right in front of me. He twisted my wrists, forcing my hands down. I tried to open my eyes to see, but could only make out a blurry figure looming over me like a mountain. Grabbing my face tightly, the figure leaned in and whispered in deep voice into my ear —
"How does it feel to be back from death? What did you think? I would let you go so easily? Without fulfilling your vow, I won't even let you die. So it would be better for you to accept your reality and stop wasting your and my time on these useless efforts."
"I want to say, 'What nonsense are you talking about?'" — but no sound came out of my mouth.
Then there was bustling all around, the sounds of doors and metal clanging. I was picked up again and dragged back into the dark, stinking dungeon.
I couldn't understand anything. How could someone be so inhuman? What had I done to deserve this? I drifted in and out of sleep multiple times, locked up in that filthy, wet, dark cell. There was no part of my body that wasn't hurt or aching. I was desperately thirsty, but there was no water. God knows how many days passed like that. No one came. I had never experienced such an onslaught of hunger and thirst before. It wasn't that I had never slept hungry — often, when we had no money, we would go to bed hungry, but somehow, my mother would find something the next day. We were hungry, yes, but never alone — she was there, with her love and support.
Then, the gate creaked open. Some people came in and tried to revive me. I was conscious, but lifeless — only my breath remained. I could feel their whispers and movements around me. I was picked up again and taken elsewhere.
This place was much better than that dark, stinking cell. Two women cleaned me up. They didn't beat me this time — maybe it was divine mercy, or maybe they felt pity — I didn't know. For the first time, they gave me water. My throat was so dry that even drinking water hurt.
It became clear that they were treating me, but why? I had no answer. No one asked me anything; no one spoke. Everyone remained silent.
Many days passed. Gradually, I started to recover. My consciousness returned like a missing horse come back home after long time, but my voice was still missing. It seemed this was some Ayurvedic healing center. All the treatments here were nature based. The staff wore plain white cotton clothes. Bamboo mats covered the floors, and for bedding, they had simple, coarse sheets. The room was large, without any doors — just thick white curtains tied with bamboo rods. There was a large courtyard in the center, with neem and acacia trees on one side and a banyan tree in the middle.
Surrounding the courtyard were many rooms, and I was in one of them. Beyond the building was a large farm where medicinal herbs, grains, and fruits were grown. There were two cowsheds and a stable for horses. Dogs, cats, and ducks all lived there. On one side, there was a small school where Ayurveda was taught, and many of the workers — from doctors to cooks to cleaners — came from there. They wore simple, old-fashioned clothes, like characters from Mahabharata or Ramayana. They lived on the premises, ate pure vegetarian food, and there was no electricity. As soon as the sun set, large torches and oil lamps were lit, and neem leaves were burned in every room to ward off insects and mosquitoes. There were no fans, but hand-held metal ones were used.
Where was I? How had I gotten here? Surely Varsha, Rajeev, and Pratibha must be searching for me. God, please bring them here soon to get me out.
Now that I was feeling a little better, my mind began racing. One thing was clear — this was not a dream. Had I fallen into the hands of human traffickers? But they didn't seem like that… or did they?
There was a lot of activity around in the morning. Sheets and curtains were being changed. Medicinal herbs were being washed and ground. Some were drying in the courtyard. The kitchen was bustling. Utensils were being cleaned, clothes washed and hung to dry. The attendants (here called "medical helpers") checked every patient's condition and gave them their medicines. I pretended to be asleep.
After a while, two women came to my room. They examined me and gave me medicine. One of them said —
"You are much healthier now. It's time for you to return. I will write a letter to your clan."
Hearing about going back to that hell sent chills down my spine — as if all the blood had drained from my body. My heart sank, and I broke into a sweat. I lay back down immediately. Seeing my condition, the two women panicked. One began fanning me; the other ran to call the head physician.
He checked my pulse and asked what had happened, but they didn't answer. They gave me some herbal medicine and massaged my hands and feet. Gradually, I started to feel a little better.
Night had fallen, but I was restless. I could not go back to that hell. I decided to escape. It was midnight. From what I had observed during my stay here, this seemed to be some village area. If I could just cross the fields, maybe I would find a road leading to the city — maybe I can get a car or an auto. If I could just get home, I would find a way to pay later.
As I moved ahead, a thought struck me — how could I go out dressed like this? I only had a simple cotton saree wrapped around me. It was decent, covering my body completely, but still, I didn't trust it. I grabbed that heavy sheet lying nearby and wrapped it around myself. People over here wear wooden sandals (khadaun), but I couldn't walk in those — so I fled barefoot.
Without looking back, I kept running. The moonlight bathed everything, the sky was full of stars, the crickets chirped, and fireflies floated in the air. I realized I had been so entangled in life that I had never noticed how beautiful the night could be. Wish I could stop and admire this beauty.
But I didn't have time for that— I had to reach the main road as soon as possible.