Darkness filled the night sky when Satya looked up from her work. 

I'm late!

In a frantic rush, she threw all her study materials back into the straw basket. 

Till that late hour, she’d been sitting in one of the deserted classrooms, engrossed in a new book on ayurveda, and oblivious to the sunset.

Basket in hand, she hurried out of the classroom and onto the lawn outside, resigned to hear an earful for her tardiness once she got home. 

“Still here, Satya?” A kind, rumbling voice stopped her. 

She turned to look at the speaker. 

A tall, aged man in the uniform-like, saffron-coloured, common attire of the university moved towards her from one end of the lawn. 

She joined her palms, bowed her head. “Pranam, Acharya.”

“My blessings are always with you.” The smiling old teacher raised his right hand, palm forward, halting before her. Acharya Dhanwantari was a shrivelled old man with sawdust-coloured dreadlocks, a voluminous white beard, and a similar moustache. Despite his sickly appearance, he walked with energy. Clear-blue eyes shone from under bushy white eyebrows. “Studying late again?”

“Sorry, Acharya, I didn’t hear the last gong.”

“Hmm, I remember the last time your uncle came to this school looking for you. He wasn’t happy about you studying so late.”

She bit her lip. “I promise you, I was just about to head home.”

Acharya’s kind face grew somber. “I heard your poultice healed another patient at the university hospital today.”

Her face lit up. “Did it really? Do you mean that child with the skin infection who got admitted yesterday? Is he healed already?”

He nodded. “Discharged already. This evening, his parents came to collect him. They are most grateful for your treatment.” 

Satya tried in vain to contain her excitement. Her face beamed with pride despite her efforts. 

The old teacher continued. “Satya, you are my best student. I am proud of your commitment to your studies and your work at the hospital. But I am sorry to see you make your uncle and aunt worry in this manner. Come, I will take you home now. I must apologise to your uncle today.”

“No, Acharya,” she cried. “I promise you it won’t happen again. Please don’t apologise to Uncle. He’ll be so disappointed if you do that. It’s my mistake. I won’t ever study late in school again.”

“Very well, I won’t apologise to him this time. But it’s the last time, mind you! Come, let’s get you home.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself, Acharya. I can go home on my own.” She bowed to him again and sprinted down the lawn towards the school gates. 

“Wait! Satya—” 

The old teacher called after her, but she’d already slipped out of the gate. She turned on the pavement outside, waved her hand to him and hurried down the road towards the hamlet. 

During the long walk home, she ruminated on the conversation. Acharya did not give compliments to everyone. He had called her ‘his best student’. To top it all, her patient had recovered in a single day with her own special treatment. This day couldn’t get any better. 

If I’d listened to Aunt Sulochana and stayed at home, then none of this would’ve happened. 

Excited about her progress, she made a mental note of the ingredients and preparation method of her poultice for the school medical records. 

The path home was straightforward, despite the absence of street lamps in the western suburbs. A tree or two, standing in the gap between the houses, swayed in the night breeze, as though greeting her. The pale moonlight brought little respite from the looming darkness. An occassional lamp or two hanging from the porch roof of the houses on either side of the road dispelled the gloom from time to time. 

The western road appeared deserted now. Following a strict daily routine, the students had retired to their dormitories at sunset. The staff had also returned to their eastern quarters. The temporary contractors would work at the construction sites in the south and the north until nine o’clock before returning home. People of the hamlet, especially Uncle Madhava, would lounge at the village square enjoying a smoke. 

If I’m lucky, Aunt Sulochana won’t tell him how late I am. 

She turned a corner and froze, unprepared for the sight that met her eyes. At that same moment, the moon hid behind a gigantic ominous cloud, hiding her presence. 

Not ten feet away, two young maidens, were dragged by the arms towards a curtained palanquin. Five strange men walked next to them, their faces shrouded in black masks. 

Satya recognised the girls. They were from the hamlet. Bound and gagged, muffled squeaks of terror escaped them. Their tear-stained, frightened faces remained focused on their kidnappers. 

Uncle Madhava's stealth training came in handy. Satya ducked behind a tree on the roadside and watched the party. All alone, she knew she could do nothing to stop these men. Screaming for help was futile. The hamlet was still far away and the houses around were empty. None, except the kidnappers, would hear her. 

Should I follow them?

As she watched the girls being pushed into the palanquin, she felt a sudden movement behind her. Alarm gripped her senses. She swirled around on the spot. 

Too late!

To her horror, she came face-to-face with another masked kidnapper. In the darkness, the first thing she saw were his gleaming eyes. 

Run! 

Satya’s mind screamed in vain. Her body wouldn’t move. As pure fear froze her limbs, she saw him raise his hands above his head, aiming a wooden cane at her doomed head. The next instant, it collided with her left temple. Her basket dropped from her hands. 

Clutching her throbbing head, Satya took a couple of halting steps away from her assailant. Her vision blurred. Her ears were ringing like temple bells. Everything was twisting into oblivion. Within seconds, she dropped to the ground face-down. 

As she lay there, her mind fighting against the fast spreading blackout, she heard one kidnapper from the palanquin run towards her. 

“Who’s that?” he called. 

“I found her spying on us,” her assailant replied. 

A momentary pause followed. Just before she fell into unconsciousness, she heard the first voice again. 

“Put her in the palanquin.”