Kaka groaned and raised his head. Blood streamed down his forehead. “You hit me, saale,” he muttered. Covering his forehead with his hands, he stumbled out. He stopped a little distance away, then turned. He was crying, his face was white and his cheeks were streaked with blood and tears. “Saale, one day your Sabun will finish,” he blurted, in between sobs.

I was stunned. Slowly, I opened my fingers. There was the beautiful rose-coloured Sabun . But it was so thin now. And it was not fragrant any more.

My heart sank.

There was no time to cry. I put on my clothes and rushed upstairs. I pulled out the bag and threw in some clothes. There was no time for walnuts. School bag? No need. Money?

Then I heard Kaka telling Ija that he had slipped on some cowdung and hit his head against the door of the cowshed.

I felt drained. I fell into my cot. Sometime later I recovered enough to go and hide the Sabun in its usual place. Then I came back, curled into a dark corner and went to sleep. I slept all evening — told everyone that I had a stomach ache.

When I got up the next morning, a strange white light seemed to envelope everything. It had snowed at night. I was terrified.

Barefoot, I ran across the snow. Snow, four fingers deep, covered the haystack. The hiding place was somewhere under it. I dug into the snow. The Sabun wasn’t there. Here? Or there? My hand was covered with mud.

And then my fingers touched a slimy object. A lump of rose coloured mud. Fragrant. I fell into the snow shivering uncontrollably, the lump in my hand.

“Hariya.”

It was Ija. She had come to milk the cows. I looked up at her. The lump slipped out of my hand. Softly, sadly, “Hariya,” she whispered.

I started to tremble. Breaking down like never before, I clutched her with my muddy hands and cried. And cried. Ija sat down next to me, held me in her arms. Just like the old days. I sobbed in the warmth of her embrace.

And then I felt as if a mountain of snow had started to melt. My heart felt light, light as cotton. If a breeze had come along just then I would have floated away.

The End

Excerpted from Lukose’s Church & Other Stories

Publisher: Katha

Illustrations: Suman Choudhury