Sun, Shade, and Skedaddle

"Am I chasing him or is he chasing me?"

"Both, I think", I say, interrupting her. She doesn't respond; typical Rama, just lost in her thoughts.

The setting Sun was glistening in her amber eyes and the rays through the canopy of palm leaves danced on her tanned skin. Sands to the right. Sands to the left. Frothy waters at our feet and hush all over. We're reclining in the sands of Baina beach of Vasco da Gama, Goa, her right hand in my left and her mesmerizing beauty in my eyes. Her face still bore that worried look, nose twitching, lips tightening, and her hand running across her hollow right cheek. We came here an hour ago in search of a quantum of solace, ice candy sticks in hand. Our eyes met often. There was a lot to talk about, words tried hard to form sentences, but it was futile. The ice had melted away. The last rays of the Sun sparkled in her eyes, her amber eyes, eyes that weren't amber a few months ago, a time when I recognized this personality by a different face.

I saw her for the first time in December, the month of raw partying and maniacal after-parties. I am a native of Goa, and a pretty famous one. I built the organized vehicle rental business out of the small unorganized bike shacks on the beaches. I had access to all parties. I felt her presence at one of those. It was Sunburn at Vagator beach. There, our eyes met. Her hazel eyes, chameleon eyes, brown for a moment, green the next. Her eyes were pulling me to her. It was not one sided though. She was checking me out, probably because I was a peg down and she was two. I was in the usual Goan attire - shorts and a loose tee - my gym-built muscles bulging through it. She looked stunning in the short blue jumpsuit, her untanned skin showing through; she hadn't been in Goa a long time. We talked. We danced. We screamed to the music together. I had been to every Sunburn in Goa, but this lady just took the experience a notch higher. We looked wild together, the music wilder, and the night the wildest I had experienced.

The next morning, the blinding Sun was staring into my bedroom through the huge windows, staring at me and the woman in my arms. Rama hadn't woken up yet. I got up, toasted some bread and made a couple of omelettes. She woke up with a bad hangover. I had none. After it eased a bit, she started asking questions. 'Who are you?''What do you do?' and similar mumbo-jumbo. When it was my turn to ask, she had only one answer, "Find it out yourself." She kissed me goodbye and left. I liked her attitude. She challenged me, Shlok Aurora. I had first set my foot in Goa fifteen years ago. But, it seems like I have lived my whole life here. It is my home now. One doesn't build an empire from scratch alone. I started from the bottom. I am nearly at the top. I had so many contacts that I only had to make a couple of calls to keep a track of my enigmatic eve. She was the mystery novel that I couldn't put down.

I waited in the shadows for two days, then, one evening, the last evening of the year, I sat  down across her in a Portuguese coffee shop on the Central Street of Margao. She was pleasantly surprised, yet not completely astonished, as if to say, 'It took you long enough'. She only came to know about my prowess when the coffee shop manager told her about it. She was more than into me. I was more than into her. We spent the last evening of the year together, and hoped this company would last. We spent the next month like a couple of high school kids, spending time together at beaches and markets, and snogging and groping at every chance possible. We saw the Sun set at Baga, Calangute, Valsao, Baina and many other beaches, and shopped in the Saturday Night Market and Holiday Street. There wasn't a beach we had not visited. I was getting habituated to the clandestine rendezvous in the nights.

Our relationship was getting more intimate. We had been to the Pilot Point once when she let me into her mind. The beautiful cliff had caught her eyes and opened her up. She told me that she had run away from her family in Indore, albeit with a lot of money. They were involved in the adulteration of just about everything, and she wanted no part of it. She was looking for a new life. She found me.

Something very strange had happened in the Goa Carnival the following month. We had fun at the parades and the EDM nights, had luscious meals and long nights. Then, one evening, she vanished. She completely disappeared from the radar. I couldn't find her anywhere. No network could catch her. I felt like I had lost her forever.

Three months later, just when I had lost all hope of finding her, she came back. The call came late in the night. Her voice was soothing. She set up a meet for breakfast at the Japanese Garden in Mormugao, little did I know I was in for a shock. I couldn't recognize her even when she was right in front of me. Her face had changed, wholly. She had undergone a plastic surgery and she had to explain why.

On that night in Chorao island when she had disappeared, she had become the victim of an acid attack. Her face was melting off when she was rescued by Reverend Paulo Clement. He admitted her in the emergency wards of Manipal Hospitals in Panjim. Later she moved to the Cosmetic Surgery Institute in Mumbai and had been there for the past three months. The only person who knew where she was was Reverend Clement, and he found no reason to contact me. One thing was still off; why had she not contacted me? But, this was not the time to ask such questions. She had been through a lot of trauma, and I didn't want to cause more of it.

The Surgeons in Mumbai had done a brilliant job on Rama. No one could recognize her by her face now. There was no sign of any acid attack on her face, but the scars were still fresh in her mind. She remembers how she was mugged outside the little Chorao village by a trio of petty thieves and left there to rot with the bruises. Then, she was found by a surreptitious masked man, who drugged her, toyed with her for a while, and then melted her face with acid. She still felt the burn sometimes, uncontrollable, painful, unbearable. However, she has no idea who that man was or what his motive was. She refuses to go to the police, and the only lead we have about this man is his physical description - tall, tanned skin tone, a weird clumsy walk, hoarse voice, and the strong odour of fish. There was another unique thing though, the symbol of a dagger in a lion's back on the mystery man's wrist.

For the past few days, I had tried to ease the tension in her while I continued trying to trace that man in the background. The symbol that she had described belonged to an old biker gang in Benaulim, the Triumphant Triumphs. They were old, brash, and involved in a lot more than just biking. I smelled something bad but I didn't have a lot of information. Rama and I headed there the moment we got to know about it. The Triumphs were not very difficult to find but it was hard to extract information. Little did I know Rama was so resourceful. She managed to seduce a biker and learn about the whereabouts of a young man, who fit the right description. He was known to be vicious. His name was Sahay and he worked in a fisheries processing factory in Candolim. We spent the evening on Baina. She was scared if Sahay was onto us. I assured her that we would nab him the next day.

The chase for the man continued, but I was having excess baggage. As we neared the outskirts of Candolim, I noticed some goons from the biker gang following us, and no, they didn't appear like they were here to help us. Just as we got to the address we had, we were caught by the gang who overpowered us and took us in the abandoned factory we so comfortably had come to. We were handcuffed and thrown in a small room. The room was small, dimly-lit, with a single entry, and smelled of rotting fish. We had no way out. Things started getting more entangled. Rama was laughing like a woman possessed. I began shouting, "What happened Rama?" "Why are you laughing?" "We're doomed."

Rama spoke, suddenly in a very serious tone, "We aren't doomed. You are."

"What? You got us into this?"

"Yes, you swine. Don't you get it. You are a fool who got into our trap. There was no acid attack. It was all Sahay's plan. I was just trying to kill you, but Sahay schemed to extort some money while I was at it. Now, you pay or you die a slow and painful death. Now, you pay to die."

"Kill me? Why..?"

"Why? You don't know the consequences of your acts, do you? While you were building your enterprise, you stepped on a lot of people. One of those unfortunate people was my brother. He was doing well with his bike shack, but you had to kill it. He got bankrupt. He was depressed for months, and he found only one escape: Suicide. While you were partying your ass off, I was mourning the death of my last blood relative. I vowed to avenge his death. My mourning ends with yours."

Sahay was outside the room with his goons, listening to all this chatter. The task was nearly complete. He was in no hurry.

I had heard enough. It was my turn now, "I have two questions for you: Why are your hands still cuffed? And where is Sahay?"

She had no apparent answer for the first question. She vehemently called out for Sahay. She knew he was outside, but why hadn't he unlocked her yet. She couldn't stand the confidence in my voice or my stoic eyes. She sensed something was wrong.

Sahay entered the room in a slow stride, trying to redo that weird walk, however he couldn't hold back. He gave me my deserved salute, unlocked my wrists, and helped me up. All Rama got was a sympathetic smile. She was furious. She started throwing questions, "What is happening here?" "Shlok" "Sahay..!!" "What are you doing?" Her voice was fading, as were her plans to kill me.

"Shocked? Aw..! I expected more from you. You think I didn't know your true intentions? I knew who you were from the first day we met. You could never succeed in your mission. You think Sahay dropped into your path with a plan, on his own? No. I sent him." I turned to him, "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

Sahay spoke, "Rama, eh? Or should I call you Maria Ferrao? I am not Sahay. My name is Yashas Aurora, and Shlok here is my brother."

She tried to say something, but words didn't form. We dropped her off at a lunatic home in Panjim.

Yashas repeated himself, hopefully for the last time, "Another wrong girl."

"Next time, try to find me a girl who loves me, but doesn't want to kill me."