Sabeena. Sabeena. What did she do
to him? He wondered as a bullet nipped him over the left shoulder. They were surrounded,
he and his gang of screaming crows. It had been eight years since she had left.
Sabeena. He didn't see her again for a long time. Another bullet came and slightly scratched
his cheek.
He put the last four bullets in the
chamber, and jumped far into the small stretch of shivering mustard plants. He crawled.
They jumped in too. They were three. They were loaded. Sabeena, he whispered
and wondered why. The crows spiralled up in the air.
The yellow mustard flowers fell
over his blood. Sabeena. He shouldn’t have left her alive. That night when he
was told to release her and her family, the family that he then killed starting
with the father, the snitch that broke a rule – that night, he shouldn’t have left
her alive either. His mind was slippery then, just like her. Now he has to die.
She was seventeen then. Now she is
married to his boss.
Another bullet picked up his toe.
He fired a shot. Two crows came crashing down. The three henchmen came closer. The
three boys that he had once picked up to smuggle the black soap were not afraid
of him now. He couldn’t see them. He was hiding. The scared mustard plants around
him ruffled with each other. The three henchmen shot over the plants. He fired
another three shots. The firing stopped. He tried to get up. A bullet struck
his ribs. The firing started again.
Sabeena. Sabeena. Sabeena. He could
hear her giggle. It was louder than the gunshots. The giggle stopped first, then
the gunshots. The henchmen left. The crows disappeared. The mustard field stood
like a stone.
Sabeena, whispered the wind.