The Trap

Part 6 – The Price of Protection

One humid evening, Swapna was preparing tea in her small one-room house when a heavy knock shook the wooden door. Before she could react, the door flew open and a burly police officer stormed inside. Without a word, he grabbed Swapna by her long braid, dragging her out of the house into the narrow, crowded lane.

Her cries echoed through the gallis as neighbours peeped from their windows, but no one dared to intervene. The officer, with ruthless force, pulled her all the way to the police jeep.

At the station, Swapna was thrown to the ground and mercilessly beaten. The inspector’s belt left angry welts across her back, and his shoes stamped on her arms as he shouted, “Where is Tanish? Tell us, or you will not leave this place alive!”

Through the pain, Swapna’s answer remained unshaken—“I don’t know who Tanish is.” That was her only line, repeated like a mantra.

Hours later, as dusk settled, Radha Maa entered the police station, draped in her deep crimson saree, followed by her group of chelas. With her commanding presence and sharp tongue, she confronted the officers. “You cannot torture one of my children like this. Release her immediately!”

Under social pressure and Radha’s influence, the police had no choice but to let Swapna go. She was rushed to the hospital, her body bruised, her spirit trembling but unbroken.

Meanwhile, Tanish remained clueless in his small hideout. He was unaware of the storm raging outside in his name.

That night, Radha stormed into his room. Without a word, she slapped him across the face so hard that his ears rang. Her voice shook with rage—
“You are the reason for Swapna’s suffering! I warned her. I told her, if you stay here as Tanish, the danger will never end. But she disobeyed me for you. Today look at her condition! You’ve ruined her life!”

Tanish fell at Radha’s feet, trembling, his eyes welling up. “Maa, don’t abandon me. I have no one else. If I step outside, the police will throw me in jail. Please, don’t disown me.”

Radha’s expression turned stern, almost merciless. “Then there is only one way. Prepare for SRS. Only as Tania, my chela, will I accept you. Otherwise, you are nothing to me.”

For a long moment, silence filled the room. Finally, Tanish whispered, “I agree… Maa. I will do it.”

Radha snapped her fingers, and Keerti and Jenny stepped forward. “Take him. Arrange everything for the surgery. I want no more trouble for Swapna because of this girl.”

Keerti and Jenny pulled Tanish aside, speaking gently. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. Trust us. Maa is harsh, but she only wants to protect the family.”

Days rolled by. Swapna, lying in the hospital, slowly recovered from her injuries. As soon as she could walk, she called Keerti and Jenny, her eyes full of worry. “Where is Tanish? Tell me the truth.”

The two chelas exchanged a heavy silence, avoiding her gaze. Before Swapna could press them further, Radha entered, her voice cold and final.

“Tanish is gone. That was the past. Do not think about him anymore.”

Swapna’s eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip hard, holding back her sobs in fear of her guru maa. But in her heart, grief raged like a storm. Tanish—her closest companion, her secret love—was being erased forever.

Part 7 – The Jalsa of Fate

Days passed, but Swapna’s body was still weak. The marks of the police torture had faded from her skin, yet they had dug deep into her soul. Her heart carried a constant ache—not for herself, but for Tanish. She asked Keerti and Jenny many times, “Where is he? How is Tanish?” But they never opened their mouths, only exchanged nervous glances.

In the meantime, one evening a folded note slipped under her door. It was from Guru Maa Radha. The message was short but commanding:

“A Jalsa has been arranged. You must attend. It is a grand occasion. Don’t fail.”

Swapna had not attended any Jalsa for months. Her heart was heavy with fear, but this one felt different. Rumors spread in whispers that it was a special celebration, arranged in a private resort. Someone important was being honored.

“Who is the lucky chela?” Swapna asked cautiously. But no one gave her a clear answer.

That evening, the entire community dressed in their finest. Shimmering silk sarees rustled, bangles jingled, and the air smelled of jasmine and sandalwood. Swapna, though weak, wrapped herself in a red Banarasi saree and tied her hair in a low bun. Something inside her told her this night would change everything.

At the resort, the Jalsa was grander than anything she had seen before. Glittering lights hung from the trees, music played, and a feast was spread. Everyone danced joyfully to Bollywood beats.

Suddenly, Guru Maa Radha rose and raised her hand. The hall went silent. From behind the curtains, a new chela stepped forward—draped in a green saree, her face hidden by her pallu. Radha’s voice rang with authority:

“From today, she is one among us. A new life, a new journey. Her name shall be Tania.”

Applause broke out, and the crowd cheered. Swapna froze in her seat. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew that voice, that gait, that hesitation in the steps. Could it be…?

Tania was seated on a chair at the center, shy and blushing, her hands trembling under the pallu. Just then, a hush fell over the gathering as a new figure entered—a tall woman in a rich Kanchivaram silk saree, her aura commanding respect.

She was holding a plate decorated with saree, blouse piece, turmeric, kumkum, bangles, and sweets. Everyone bowed slightly as she walked forward. No one knew who she was, but her presence was magnetic.

The woman approached Tania. She gently smeared turmeric on her cheek, applied kumkum on her forehead, and then handed over the plate.

Tania kept her head down, still blushing nervously. But suddenly, the woman held Tania’s chin firmly and lifted her face.

The crowd gasped.

A cold smile spread across her lips.

“So, how are you, Tanish?” she said, her voice sharp like a blade. “Hope you are enjoying your new life. You will have more fun from now on. Did you think you could sit in prison and escape all your sins?”

Tania’s eyes widened in horror. The woman leaned closer, her words dripping with venom.

“Let me make you experience hell on earth.”

The hall froze. Guru Maa Radha’s face turned pale. Swapna clutched her saree pallu tightly, her breath heavy.

Tanish—now Tania—stared in disbelief at the woman before her.

She was none other than Jhansi, CBI Additional DGP.

Her smile was one of triumph, her eyes blazing with revenge.

The drums started beating again, but now their rhythm felt like thunder in Tanish’s chest. The crowd danced, unaware of the storm that had just begun.

What was Jhansi’s past with Tanish? What revenge did she seek? Would Swapna gather the courage to protect Tania? Or was this the beginning of an even darker chapter in Tanish’s life?

The answers remained buried in silence, as the Jalsa lights flickered like warning flames.

To be continued…

Part 8 – The Weak but Watchful Swapna

The dim light of her single-room house fell on Swapna’s face. Weeks of torture had drained the glow she once carried. Her body trembled with every step, her breath shallow. Yet, her eyes — sunken but sharp — refused to lose their fire. Every night, as she struggled with fever and bruises, her mind kept returning to the same haunting thought: Why was Jhansi so desperate to bury Tanish’s case?

Keerti and Jenny sat beside her many evenings, urging her to rest, but whenever Swapna asked about the truth behind Malliah Naidu’s death, they turned their faces away. Their silence was heavier than words, their fear almost contagious.

One evening, when the silence became unbearable, Swapna whispered,
“Keerti… Jenny… what are you afraid of? Jhansi? Or the truth?”

Both women lowered their eyes. Jenny muttered, “Akka, some truths will bury us alive. Don’t dig further.”

But for Swapna, weakness of body was not weakness of will. Her journal remained open on her lap, its pages filled with scribbled notes, half-baked connections, and unanswered questions.

The Unexpected Ally

It was during one of her reluctant visits to the police station that Swapna noticed a young officer — Inspector Meera. She had sharp eyes but a nervous air, as though she wanted to speak but dared not. Their first meeting was brief, but when Swapna collapsed from weakness outside the station gates, it was Meera who offered her water and whispered, almost too softly to hear:

“Madam… I know what Jhansi is doing is not right. But be careful. Too many people are watching.”

That single sentence became a spark in Swapna’s weary soul. Over the following days, they met secretly — in temple courtyards, in quiet hospital corridors, always keeping their heads low. Meera revealed small but significant details: the FIR on Malliah’s death had conflicting timings; the post-mortem doctor had been transferred mysteriously the next day.

“Jhansi isn’t after justice,” Meera said in a hushed voice. “She’s protecting something… or someone.”

Tania’s Struggle

Meanwhile, in Radha’s community, the newly transformed Tania tried to hide her torment behind her pallu. Every dance, every smile at Jalsa practice, felt like a blade cutting her pride. The women laughed, teased, and embraced her as their new sister, but deep inside, Tania could still hear his old name — Tanish. The humiliation Jhansi had crafted for him now threatened to swallow his very identity.

Late at night, Tania confided to Radha, “Amma, why me? Why this punishment?”

Radha stroked her head with false comfort, saying, “Fate has its own ways, child. Accept it.” But her eyes betrayed unease, as if she knew far more than she admitted.

The First Ray of Truth

One afternoon, Swapna received a strange message on her phone. It was from an unknown number, unsigned. Just five words:

“Malliah’s death was staged.”

Her heart skipped. Was this a trap? Or was this the first real clue? She clutched the phone tightly, her frail fingers trembling. If this was true, then everything — Tanish’s arrest, Jhansi’s cruelty, Radha’s silence — all pointed to a deeper conspiracy.

That night, lying on her cot, Swapna closed her tired eyes but her mind raced faster than ever. If Malliah didn’t die the way they said… then who killed him? And why was Tanish chosen as the scapegoat?

The answers were close, almost within reach. And though her body was breaking, Swapna silently vowed:

“I will not let Tanish rot as Tania. Even if I have to fight Jhansi with my last breath, I will bring out the truth.”

Part 9 – The Shadow of Truth

The night was unusually quiet in Swapna’s neighborhood. The fan above her cot creaked with every rotation, but she couldn’t sleep. The anonymous message — “Malliah’s death was staged” — replayed in her mind like a drumbeat.

She turned her weak body toward the window. Outside, a street dog barked at shadows, but to Swapna, those shadows were alive. Someone out there was moving pieces, watching every step she took.

The Uneasy Allies

The next day, she met Inspector Meera again in a temple courtyard. Meera’s lips trembled as she spoke, her eyes scanning every passerby.

“Madam… Malliah’s autopsy never reached the official records. The file was destroyed. I checked. But before his transfer, the doctor told his assistant something strange.”

Swapna leaned in, gripping her sari tightly. “What did he say?”

“That the body he examined… wasn’t Malliah’s.”

Swapna’s heart sank. Her breath came heavy. If Malliah wasn’t dead… then where was he? And why frame Tanish?

Meera continued in a whisper, “Careful, madam. Even I can’t move openly. Jhansi has her eyes everywhere.”

A Stranger’s Warning

That evening, on her way back, a man followed Swapna through the market. His steps were heavy, deliberate. She tried to lose him in the crowd, but he finally caught up and muttered, without even looking at her,
“Stop digging. You won’t survive the truth.”

Before she could respond, he melted into the busy street. Swapna clutched her basket tighter, sweat trickling down her temple. The warning wasn’t just a threat — it was a sign that she was getting close.

Tania’s Breaking Point

Meanwhile, at Radha’s camp, Tania stood before a mirror, draped in a bright yellow half-saree, hair tied with jasmine. The reflection mocked him — no trace of Tanish remained. The humiliation had broken his pride, but now it was breaking his will.

During the evening jalsa rehearsal, he suddenly stopped mid-dance. Tears welled up as he whispered to Radha, “Amma, I can’t do this anymore… I am not Tania. I am Tanish!”

Radha’s face darkened. She slapped him hard, the bangles on her wrist clinking sharply in the silent room. “If you want to live, you are Tania. Forget your old self.”

Tania’s sobs echoed through the hall, but in a dark corner, an older eunuch murmured, “Poor child… he doesn’t even know why this is happening to him.”

The Puzzle Pieces

Back in her small house, Swapna spread out her notes. She connected timelines, names, rumors. Tania’s forced feminization, Jhansi’s obsession, Radha’s strange authority, and now — Malliah’s missing body.

Her mind whispered a terrifying thought: What if Malliah was alive, hidden by Jhansi and Radha? What if Tanish’s transformation was not punishment, but distraction?

She wrote one line in her diary, underlined thrice:
“Find Malliah — truth will follow.”

Part 10 – Confrontation with Radha

The Watchful Eyes

Late that night, as Swapna lit her small lamp to write further, she felt the presence again. Someone was outside her window. A faint shadow moved across the wall. Her heart pounded. She blew out the lamp instantly and pressed herself against the cot, her ears straining.

Minutes later, a stone clinked against her door. She crept forward, opened it cautiously — and found a folded piece of paper on the ground.

With trembling fingers, she unfolded it. The note had only one sentence, scribbled hastily:

“Malliah is with them. Trust no one.”

Her eyes widened. The truth was no longer in the shadows. It was standing right outside her door.

The morning sun glared harshly over the temple town, as if exposing secrets buried too long. Swapna tightened her cotton saree and walked briskly toward the large hall where Radha’s eunuch troupe prepared for an evening jalsa. Her frail body shook with nervousness, but her resolve was iron.

She clutched the anonymous note in her blouse — the one that said, “Malliah is with them. Trust no one.” If there was one person who knew the entire truth, it was Radha. And Swapna would no longer circle in fear.

The First Clash

Inside the hall, music echoed — tabla beats, anklets ringing, voices rehearsing ragas. Radha, tall and commanding, stood in the center, instructing the dancers. Tania sat in a corner, eyes swollen from a night of tears, her saree hanging awkwardly.

When Swapna entered, all chatter fell silent. The dancers stopped mid-step, glancing nervously at Radha.

Radha’s sharp eyes narrowed.
“Why are you here, Amma? This is no place for you.”

Swapna’s voice quivered at first, but she steadied it.
“I came for the truth. About Tanish. About Malliah.”

The hall went cold. Even the tabla stopped.

Radha’s Fury

Radha stepped closer, her bangles clinking like warning bells.
“You dare utter that name here?” she hissed.
Swapna didn’t flinch. “Yes. I know Malliah’s body was never found. I know Tanish was forced into this humiliation. And I know you are protecting Jhansi’s lies.”

Gasps rippled among the troupe. Tania’s head shot up, tears brimming with sudden hope.

Radha’s hand twitched as if she might strike Swapna. But instead, she laughed — a deep, mocking laugh that filled the hall.
“Foolish woman. You think you can play detective? Do you know what it takes to keep this community alive? Jhansi gave us shelter, respect, power! And you — with your weak lungs and shaking hands — want to break it all?”

The Emotional Blow

Swapna’s eyes welled with tears, but her voice carried steel.
“Respect does not come by destroying lives, Radha. Look at him!” She pointed to Tania, trembling in her corner. “Is this what you call power? A boy torn from his manhood, forced into a body that doesn’t belong to him?”

Tania sobbed, covering her face. Some of the younger eunuchs looked away in shame.

For the first time, Radha’s face softened — a flicker of guilt crossing her hardened features. But she masked it quickly.
“You don’t understand, Amma. Some truths are bigger than your emotions. Malliah was not who you think he was.”

A Dangerous Hint

Swapna froze. “What do you mean?”

Radha’s lips curled into a cryptic smile.
“If you really want to know, go to the old godown near the river tonight. But remember — once you see what’s inside, there is no going back.”

Before Swapna could press further, Radha clapped her hands sharply.
“Enough! Get out before Jhansi herself hears of this.”

The troupe resumed their practice, though unease lingered in the air. Tania’s eyes silently followed Swapna as she left, a flicker of desperate hope in her gaze.

The Closing Beat

Outside the hall, Swapna clutched her chest, her breath ragged. The confrontation had left her shaken, but she had finally cracked Radha’s armor.

The godown near the river… What truth lay hidden there?

As she limped back toward home, a realization chilled her:
Radha hadn’t denied Malliah was alive.