#malli

Several nights a week, he would wake up screaming - sometimes for Sita or Jenny, but mostly for Bheem. They would all rush in to comfort him, to prove to him that they were alive and well, to light the lamps and show him that there was no blood on his hands.

Ram figured he might believe them if he could get Bheem to forgive him. But every time he so much as took Bheem’s name with that intent, Bheem would see right through him and avert the conversation.

It would be one thing, Ram thought, if Bheem just didn’t want to forgive him. The idea that Bheem did not even consider him guilty was unbearable.

One afternoon found Ram particularly unable to concentrate on strategic work. He set his notebook aside and picked up his rifle, intending to exhaust his restless mind into submission by joining whatever drill Sita had designed to push the trainees to their limit today. 

He walked to the living room and sat on the couch to lace up his boots. In their tiny kitchen, Bheem was helping Malli with her math homework as he rolled out dough for rotis. On the woodstove sat a pressure cooker.

“What’s in the cooker?” Ram called.

“Bheem-anna is making dal for dinner!” Malli replied.

“Malli, concentrate,” Bheem chastised. “So to do this sum, you need to carry the one-”

“Bheema,” Ram said, walking up to the kitchen doorway.

“Annayya?”

“I’m going to the training field. Make sure you put the pressure regulator on the cooker, okay?” Ram indicated the small metal weight by the sink.

“Yes, Annayya.”

***

When Ram came home a few hours later, he knew instantly that something was wrong. There was nothing in particular that gave it away, just a gut feeling so intense that Ram thought he might pass out.

In the kitchen, Bheem and Malli were laughing, homework forgotten as they danced to a song of their own invention. As Ram rushed in, Bheem picked Malli up, swinging her around playfully. She squealed in delight.

Then Ram’s eyes fell on the cooker in the corner. It looked exactly the same as it had when he had left. 

No pressure regulator.

Ram leapt between Bheem and the cooker. He shoved Bheem and Malli to the ground, sheltering them with his body just as the cooker exploded behind him.

As the hot steam and boiling water scalded his shoulders and back, causing his skin to erupt in red, angry blisters, Ram spared a brief thought for the karmic justice of it all. The arms that had wielded a whip against Bheem deserved to burn.

A scorching piece of metal slammed into Ram’s head, cutting right to the bone. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was blood dripping onto Bheem’s face beneath him.

It’s not his, Ram thought in relief.

***

When Ram awoke, he was in his dimly lit room, lying on his stomach with his head turned to one side so he could breathe. He felt small hands smoothing a salve onto his back, so gentle he could have been imagining it.

“Malli?” he rasped.

“Ram-anna!” she gasped softly. She set a bowl down on the nightstand and circled around so they were face to face. “You’re awake.”

“Malli, can I- can you help me sit up?”

Malli frowned. “I don’t think you should do that.”

Ram laughed hoarsely. “Please, Malli. I want to see you properly.”

She relented, propping up a pillow and holding Ram’s hand as he struggled to sit up. With every movement, he had to consciously bite back a shout.

When he was finally settled, Malli let go of his hand and reached for the salve. Her lip quivered.

“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?”

Ram huffed out a smile, too exhausted to lie convincingly. “Who made this?” he asked instead, gesturing at the bowl in her hand.

“Bheem-anna. He said it’s good for burns.”

“Where is he?”

“He went with Sita-akka to bring us food.” Malli cocked her head to the side and grinned. “All the rotis drowned in the explosion.”

“Malli, don’t make me laugh,” Ram warned with a chuckle. “I can barely breathe here.”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who can’t breathe.”

“Just wait till I get better. I’ll tickle you so much-”

“You’ll never catch me!”

“That’s fair,” Ram acknowledged. “You’re pretty fast.”

Malli settled herself on Ram’s bed, putting her head in his lap. Ram moved his hand to rest it on her head, gritting his teeth through the pain.

“Malli,” he said after several minutes.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, Ram-anna?” Malli looked up at him in confusion.

“I- I was there that day when they brought you to the mansion. I should have helped you. I should have taken you back home. I’m sorry it took so long.”

She sat up, observing Ram thoughtfully. “You saw when they brought me there?”

“Yes.”

“Did you want to help me?”

“Yes, Malli. More than anything.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Ram squeezed his eyes shut. “I had to trick them. I had to make them think I was on their side.”

“So you could get the weapons to fight them?”

Ram looked at her in surprise. Malli may be a child, but she was sharp beyond her years. “Yes.”

“Then you shouldn’t be sorry. Bheem-anna is right.”

“Right about what?”

“Bheem-anna says that you can do no wrong.”

Ram felt his eyes brim with tears. Bheem said that? After everything that had happened? How had he managed to forget the sting of the whip when Ram could still feel the burn of the handle in his palm?

“Ram-anna, you’re crying!” Malli said, kneeling up on the bed to dry his tears. “What hurts? I can help, I have medicine.”

Ram shook his head miserably. “Where is he, Malli?”

“One second, I’ll go see. They should be back by now.”

Minutes later, Bheem entered the room at a full sprint. “Why are you sitting up?!”

“Bheema-”

“Lie down, you’ll make the pain worse!”

“Listen-”

“Wait, let me re-apply the salve, it will provide some relief and then-”

“Bheema!” Ram seized Bheem’s hands as he tried to reach for the salve. “Breathe. I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Bheem drew a long, shuddering breath. “Annayya…”

“I’m okay.”

Bheem refused to meet his eyes. “Why did you step in front of the cooker like that? It was my fault, I would’ve borne the consequences. I would have protected Malli.”

“I have no doubt.”

“Then why-”

“I made a promise, remember? I swore on your life that I wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”

“Don’t,” Bheem sobbed, bringing Ram’s hands to his eyes. “Don’t keep your promise like that.”

Ram cupped Bheem’s face tenderly, wiping away his tears.

“Bheema,” he began.

Bheem looked up, reading Ram’s intent. “Annayya, let me get you some food from the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

As Bheem stood to leave, Ram grabbed his wrist with surprising strength.

“Stay.”

“Annayya, I’ll just be a minute,” Bheem tried to twist his hand out of Ram’s grip, causing Ram to gasp in pain.

“Stay,” Ram repeated before Bheem could react, “because I need to say-”

“No, Annayya, please-”

“-that I am so, so sorry. Forgive me, Bheema, because God knows I will never forgive myself.”

Bheem sat down on the edge of the bed, unable to speak for several seconds. Finally, he whispered,

“The whip hurt less than your words, Annayya.”

Ram drew an unsteady breath. “You don’t remember. The way you cried out-” The memory snatched the air from Ram’s lungs, making him choke. “The spikes digging into your skin, your blood pooling at my feet - these will haunt me as long as I live.”

“Annayya,” Bheem’s voice cracked. “Why do you torture yourself with such thoughts?”

“You trusted me, Bheema, and I betrayed you. It doesn’t matter the reason.”

“Annayya, I am yours. You were just doing your duty. But even if there was no reason, you have every right-”

Ram silenced him with a steely gaze. “No one has a right to hurt you. You are not a pawn in some greater fight. You are not a sacrifice. You are a person. Forgive me for ever behaving otherwise.”

“Okay,” Bheem buried his face in Ram’s chest, trying not to bawl like a child. Maybe it was a little silly, but after surviving the captivity of colonizers, to be seen as a person suddenly felt overwhelming. “Okay. As you say, Annayya.”

Ram wrapped his arms around Bheem, ignoring the way his nerves screamed in protest. His heart was full, and a laugh bubbled up out of him. His Bheema forgave him. What more could Ram possibly want?

“Jenny-akka wants to know if you both are coming for dinner,” Malli said from the doorway.

“We’ll be right there,” Ram said. “And Malli - thank you.”

Malli put on an exaggerated thinking face. “Mm, okay. I guess you’re welcome. This time.”

As she turned and left, Bheem looked up at Ram in confusion. “Was that a threat?”