Ilaa(Cont.d)

She felt hot tears of anger, frustration and betrayal run down her cheeks, racing their way to her lap.

“No.”, she said to herself. “This cannot be happening. I will figure something out.” Whilst she was lost in her thoughts,  the wind seemed to whisper in her ears , “Run, Illa! Run! This isn’t the world for you! Run! Run!” The urge was too strong to resist. She got up, brushed the dust off herself and with a last, bold look of defiance and determination to start a new life, turned her back onto the world.

She kept walking towards the dense forests which were said to be the home of many unnamed dangers, mostly of ferocious predators, under the autumn twilight. She had been a puppet manipulated by her society and parents so long, that she had now come to life which seemed so much simpler now; no moral obligations or expectations to live upto. Everything was in her own hands. As moonlight started spreading it’s vast arms around the sky and dazzling stars formed a kaleidoscopic view, Ilaa realized that life could be lived alone, in serenity and peace.

If only she realized how wrong she was.

Three years had passed since Ilaa had run away from Sauviragram and had built her own thatched hut. She had taught herself to hunt by sharpening sticks and rocks and had grown even more attractive without knowing it. She glowed with pride of establishing a life for herself and would often wonder how her life would have been if she hadn’t taken this bold step.

And one melancholic, stormy autumn evening, she was asking herself the same question when she heard a startled, pained cry which made shivers run down her spine.

She ran outside her hut, only to find a man lying sprawled out on the ground with a grotesque wound on his left knee, which she guessed, was mauled by a wild animal. His eyes kept on fluttering and the blood flow was excessive. His face was drenched in sweat and his hair was matted with mud. ‘I have to do something. I can’t let him die like this’, she muttered to herself. She tried to pick him up but her strength seemed to fail her. He lay there in her arms, and slowly whispered, ‘Don’t try to save me. It’s hell at home. Don’t try to help me. I don’t want to live anymore. Don’t cure me. The pain has already left me dead.’

Ilaa’s eyes welled up with tears. She couldn’t let him die. He deserved another chance at life ; a life worth living. She tried to lift him up again and with a great heave, she managed to prop him up on one shoulder.