Running away!
Two women grabbed Naintara’s arms, guiding her toward the wooden pyre. Her heart thudded so loud she couldn’t hear the chanting anymore. Only her own shallow breaths. Her cries were dry now. Her lips moved.
Naintara
"Please.... please don't do this to me.... please I...I...want to live please don't kill me...."
Naintara was protesting but they ignored her voice.
They forced her to sit beside the cørpse, tying her pallu to his fingers. The firewood creaked beneath her. The smell of ghee made her gag.
Suddenly she pushed them and removed her pallu from his finger forcefully and shouted
She screamed , a raw, desperate sound tearing from her throat.
Naintara
"You can't do this to me"
She cried, her voice trembling but loud enough to slice through the murmuring crowd. Her eyes, wide and frantic, darted from face to face searching for sympathy, for understanding but finding only cold, unblinking stares.
Villagers
"Ayeee ladki .... don't commit sin by doing this, follow the pratha quietly "
Radha Das( FL mother)
"Don't do this naina meri bacchi , We are following this pratha since decades , you can't stop it , our ancestors did and we are also bound to do it"
Chaos erupted around her. The priest stumbled back in shock. Women screamed curses. Men shouted for her to be caught. But Naintara didn’t wait.
The ground beneath her bare feet was rough, studded with stones and broken twigs, but she didn't feel the pain. The heavy white saree tangled around her ankles, slowing her down, but she gritted her teeth and pulled it up as she sprinted.
Naintara
**You can't stop now tara ..... it's now or never..... you can't stop now**
It was already getting darker and darker. I weather was not good either. The thunderstorm and raining heavily, everything was making difficult for her to run for her life.
She didn't know where she was going , only that she had to get away.
Away from the pyrè.
Away from the death they had planned for her. Away from everything she had once called home.
Shyam Das (FL father)
"I said stop naintara.....stop"
Her father shouted from behind.
Other villagers joined the chase, shouting, cursing her name, calling her wicked, possessed, a curse upon their land.
But she didn’t stop.
She ran harder, faster, even as the mud sucked at her feet, even as sharp branches scratched her arms and legs. The rain intensified, turning the narrow dirt paths into slippery trails. The wind howled, carrying with it the scent of wet earth and fear. Lightning lit up the twisted trees around her, making monstrous shadows. But even nature’s wrath felt kinder than the hands that had tried to burn her alive. Her chest heaved painfully. Her lungs begged for air. But she pushed on.
Naintara
💭Run tara, don't stop , they are cruel.💭
Ahead, through the curtain of rain, she spotted a small jhopdi ,an abandoned hut on the outskirts of the village, half hidden behind a clump of wild bushes. She stumbled toward it, praying it would offer some shelter, some hiding place. Throwing herself inside, she collapsed onto the damp, cracked floor.
The jhopdi smelled of mold and old straw. Rain dripped steadily through holes in the thatched roof, soaking her further. Rats scurrieds, but she didn’t care. She huddled into a corner, wrapping her trembling arms around her knees, trying to make herself invisible.
Naintara
"I... hope...they...d ... don't find me here"
Her body shook violently from the cold, from exhaustion, from terror. She could hear them outside. Voices shouting her name. Footsteps sloshing through the wet ground. Torches bobbing like fiery eyes in the darkness.
She pressed a hand over her mouth to silence her sobs, every muscle in her body aching with fear.
She prayed for har safety
Naintara
💭 Please bhagwan ji ... please don't let them find me please💭
She was just a girl.
A girl who had been dressed up like a bride and handed to a corpse. A girl who had never been asked what she wanted. A girl who refused to die for a tradition she never chose.
The minutes dragged by like hours.
Lightning flashed again, and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in a puddle on the floor , a soaked, shivering ghost wrapped in white saree.
Was this what they wanted? A martyr?
She was a girl who wanted to live.
Outside, the voices grew fainter , some cursing her, others arguing.
Villagers
“She ran toward the forest!”
Villagers
“No, toward the river!”
Shyam Das (FL father)
“She’s hiding! Find her!”
The thought of being dragged back to that pyre, tied again to that cold, lifeless body, made bile rise in her throat.
She curled tighter into herself, closing her eyes, trying to block out the images: the flames, the faces, the betrayal in her parents’ eyes.
Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the rain on her skin.
Naintara
What will happen to me now?
Even if she survived the night, where would she go?
She had no money. No allies. No voice.
But somewhere deep inside her, a tiny spark flickered.
She had something they didn’t expect. Something they couldn’t extinguish.
For the first time in her short life, Naintara understood that she was truly alone. And yet, there was a fierce, painful freedom in that loneliness.
No gods, no parents, no village would decide her fate anymore.
She would find a way , somehow , to survive.
｡◕‿◕｡｡◕‿◕｡｡◕‿◕｡｡◕‿◕｡
How's it? Did you guys like it or its too senseless? Please share your opinion.
Thank you for reading!!! ｡◕‿◕｡🎀
OK bye mai chali ～>`)～～～～>`)～～～～>`)～～～
Comments
Mou
it's good and it's good to see you come back 🤧
2025-04-27
3