Scars

Do you ever pick at old scars?

Dear Leo,

Do you ever pick at old scars?

Scars tell you the story of your life, right? You look at them, touch them, relive the moment you got them, how it made you feel, what you became after. Like, I have this scar on my left knee, from the time we went cycling on the Jeevan Jyoti bridge, and I couldn’t handle the curve near Okra Mandi. The skin practically peeled back and I remembered crying all the way home, while you cycled a little behind me.

Mom had to stand by tearful, when Dad threw the rusted thing off the balcony into the bonfire below, after the third Eastern Invasion. The Wall took a beating that month, but most of the Chakravyuh’s systems held. 

My body has a lot more scars these days. Cuts, nicks, gashes, the whole gamut. I have to wear full clothing at home. Mom seems suspicious, but she doesn’t disapprove. Yesterday, she saw me come home, late and tired again from work. She had that determined look on her face, and I knew what was on her mind. 

“Look, we appreciate that you spend all this time working and earning for us. But don’t you think it’s time you settled down?”

It’s the same script, by the way. It has not changed at all. It’s only tempered slightly, now, because she doesn’t expect to be taken care of by me, and there’s nobody else.

“But, you have to understand… you’re getting old. This job… How will anyone think of trying to start a life with you?”

“Mom, I don’t really want to talk about this.” I made to go into my room, but Mom said something else.

“Is there… is there someone already?”

That gave me pause. It’s that tone in her voice, you know? Like that is the most horrifying thing I could have done. 

I turned and said, “What if there is, Mom? What if there isn’t but I just don’t want to? I don’t want to SETTLE?!” God, I hate that word.

No, don’t get angry, that is not what I said, obviously. I can fight drones and creatures from the sea, but I can’t speak the truth to my mother. Ironic, I know. Anyway, here’s what really happened.

I turned and said, “Mom, can we talk about this later? I’m tired, and right now I’ve just started this new job. I can’t take a break from this right now. But we can discuss this later.” 

She smiled a little, “Yes, yes, but afterwards, we will discuss? I know just the right people too.”

“Yes, mom.” I sighed.

She walked back into her room, mollified. 

I went and sat on my bed, propped my left leg up on the bed and massaged the bruises on my thigh, right above the scar on my knee. That’s when I started thinking about scars. 

Betaal says that the biggest scars in this job are not physical. And the big one, I haven’t had to endure it yet. The other Vikram, she spared me from it, but it’s only momentary relief. Some day, I will have to go through with it.

The last time I wrote to you, I was brimming my questions. For four days after that, there was no training, Betaal didn’t come to me.

When he did, I bombarded him with so many questions, he actively shut down my speech centres. Then I refused to train.  

So we had the first of a few conversations to DTR, so to speak. (Do people still say DTR?)

“Who was the other Vikram?” I asked while taking a small complement of drones to task single handedly.

Betaal didn’t say anything immediately, but I could sense that buzzing in my spine. I executed two flawless strikes, and faltered on the third. The drone managed to swipe below my outstretched arm and crash into my thigh. I lost balance, fell to the ground, rolled and drove the horn full length into the air. The drone turned, carving a wobbly arc and barrelled at me. I saw a glint, and then noticed the serrated blade that had sprouted on the fore of the drone. 

“Oh fuck!” I swore under my breath, but I didn’t have time to get to my feet or dodge. Even if i managed to zap the drone with the horn, sheer momentum would keep it going till it had buried the blade in me. 

The voice in my ear spoke now, calmly, “Don’t bother firing. Hold the horn at an angle to the floor. And wait.”

I followed without hesitation. 

The drone was milliseconds from my face, when he told me to swing the horn to the side and bat the blade away. Using its own momentum, I deflected it, and it stuck in the ground, a few feet behind me. I struggled to my feet, touched my thigh and it hurt like a bitch.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.”

Using the horn as a crutch, I managed to get upright.

Betaal spoke, “So you finally trust me with your life.”

That’s when I realised what I had actually done.

I tried to downplay it. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really have time to think.”

But I guess that’s the truth, Leo. I trust the Betaal to keep me safe. He’s done it before, he will do it again.

Betaal replied, “The Protector thinks you’re ready for a real mission.” 

I dusted off my pants and looked at the drone stuck in the soil. 

I asked, “What do you think?”

Betaal replied, “I don’t think about this, I just give my professional assessment. God takes care of the rest.”

My eyes narrowed, even though I knew the gesture was meaningless.

“Your Protector is not God, you know that, right?”

Betaal took a second to reply, “What do you call someone who knows everything, can do anything and be anywhere?”

I didn’t have an answer to that, so I shrunk the horn and slipped it into my pocket. While I was gingerly testing my foot to see if I could manage to walk unaided, Betaal spoke again. 

“The other Vikram is one of our best agents, one of many Vikrams. Amba has remained safe all these years, because of us, not because of SATARC. It is only because The Protector finds those who have been corrupted by the weapons of the Outsiders and recruits them to our cause.”

“The Outsiders? The Matsyas?” I asked, my interest piqued.

“The Matsyas… they’re part of it, but not all of it. There are others too. Stranger things.”

Betaal fell silent for a while. I didn’t probe further. This was the first time Betaal had offered so much information unprompted. 

Betaal finally spoke again, “I also think you’re ready for your first mission. But it will not be easy.”

I laughed, feigning a courage I did not feel, “That’s okay. I have you on my side.”

Betaal, in a very quiet voice said, “Not quite. Do you even know what it takes for me to be here at all?”

He refused to clarify, or say a single word more, and as soon as we had hit the Green Corridor, he vanished. 

So there I was sitting, trying to massage my foot, when my Devi buzzed. It was on the table. (Betaal insists that I should not carry it with me to my training, so I always leave it behind now.) I hit answer on it, and a tinny voice that sounded vaguely female spoke.

“Tomorrow, 9 PM, Swatantrata Chitragruh. You are in trouble, and I am the only one who can help you.”

The voice promptly disconnected, and I was left with even more questions than I started out.

Leo, I don’t even know what to make of this. Everything about this feels like a trap. But if I don’t go, the part of me that needs to know the truth, the one that lost jobs just for trying to report things as they happened, that part will be very disappointed. On the other hand, if I’m not around to protect Mom and Dad, to support them, they’ll be disappointed in me. You would be disappointed too, I’m sure. I just… I hope I choose right.

Love

N

PS Did you notice something? When Betaal spoke about the Vikrams, he said “us”, not “them”?