Hanuman I

It was a thought at first.

A slight tingling of the nerve that manifested itself into something larger as time crept by – Violence; it seemed; was a part of him now.

He had seen his mother shield his sister from her father, crazed with madness and liquor, he used to batter his family every day. As he grew older – he realized that It was more of his shortcomings that their father vented on his family. He was supposed to be the provider to the family – instead he was a failure. The failure to do anything worthwhile led him to bouts of anger and rage. That were vented on the family.

It was most unfortunate. He sat on a log, lost in thought – wisps of smoke blowing around him. The beedi was a warm reassurance in the cold dense jungle. The cold metal of the rifle slung around his shoulder was another. The others slept peacefully. But the cries of his family while their house was burned down by the local goon were enough to haunt him for the rest of his life. It had jarred him out of his sleep on more than one occasion. This had caused him enough anguish, he had not slept since then unless fatigue would completely overtake him and he would crash suddenly. This had earned him the nickname of Hanuman by his brothers in arms.

He looked at his watch, only an hour to go – he thought.

The jungle had become reassuring now. It was always the jungle that reassured hanuman whenever he was disturbed or angry. He would escape the severe battering of his father and run away to the jungle to try and escape from life itself.

A strange calmness enveloped him as the hour drew closer. It was familiar, he was aware of his senses being in a heightened state as the hour for action approached. Years of living in the jungle had attuned his senses to even a slight shiver that was out of place. The jungle could be your worst enemy if you didn’t respect it – it would finish you. But, if you get to know it better – it could prove to be a trusted friend. He would always tell this to youngsters that were freshly recruited.

And a friend it was – hanuman heard a twig snap in the silence of the night. It was ever so slight that an untrained ear would have hardly noticed. But, no – not Hanuman. Nothing escaped him. He quietly swung his rifle towards the noise even as he stealthily picked himself up off the log and knelt down on the soft earth in a firing position. The Beedi remained in his mouth - a reassurance.

The fire crackled and hissed as Hanuman wished he was sitting behind it. Anyone approaching could make out his outline. Or anything.

There was no other sound, the hissing logs that were nearly consumed by the flames and Hanuman’s own breathing – which was steady. He was ready. Ready for whatever was in the vicinity.

But – nothing happened. There was no further sound. The fire was about to die out. Hanuman realized whatever was in the shrubbery was waiting for the fire to die out. If that was the case – it had to be an animal…

To be contd...