Nilan

His fingers danced along the skin of ‘tabla’ creating a pure melody. The band behind him played as well creating a melancholy aura in the parlour of the villa his master lived at. His eyes remained close while he played, feeling the vibrations run through his veins. With his dark black hair and sharp jawline and clear, dusky skin, made him look almost eternal. The music slowly came to an end as he opened his eyes, revealing his chocolate orbs. Claps echoed throughout the room as the man sitting at the centre of the hall stood up- “Nilan, you’re indeed- and I’m no person to exaggerate things- you’re such a musician” the man had greying hair and beard of the same colour, wore a velvety red suit. “Thank you sire.” Nilan bowed down to his master. Today, Nilan had prepared himself better than usual for it was his master’s birthday. The old advocate clapped his hands twice as a man came with a red pouch, the coins clinking inside. A sum of 64 anna was rewarded to him as he fell on his knees thanking him all he could.

The cart moved along the dirt path as the soft aroma of the soil rose up tingling the noses. His body arched in tiredness and mouth opened wide, yawning. The sky had grown dark and the lantern hanging on the houses were lit up, the birds flying back to their nests. Dirt had clasped around the cart wheels and it gradually stopped in front of the cottage not so far away from the bank of river Thamirabharan. "Annan!" she shouted, running towards her elder brother as her two braids dangled over her shoulders. Her glowing, dusky skin and bright yellow sari with a blouse of matching colour highlighted her petite figure out of the dark. The beautiful maiden had come out smiling but stopped as she heard the horses neigh, no announcement to be made for who it was, just the flags and hooting made it clear. Worried expressions were shared and hasty steps were made, the door closed and keen eyes looking out of the windows at the dictators of the area. The pair of siblings, too, went into their cottage, sitting down and counting the coins Nilan had received. "It always increases compared to the last time! What are you even playing for him these days? Though, I bet it's his daughter and not him who gives you these rewards." the younger sister chuckled while keeping the pouch back inside the safe. "I actually don't think you should continue saying that, since it's not true and she wasn't even there today." he nonchalantly walked to the mat in front of his instrument. "Sure." a snort left her mouth

A night, which was similar to any other nights had almost passed until muffled cries of the throngs who converged to the whirlpool of the town centre. They wouldn't have dared to get up but unable to process things after having their sleep disturbed, they stepped out, only to see hundreds of people chanting slogans and raising their fire torches. Quickly turning back as he got himself pushed into the crowd, a panic rushed through him, not for him but for his sister. "ABI!" he called out, pushing himself through. "Murugan- keep my sister safe." praying to himself, he tried to catch a glimpse of her or even know why the mob seemed so furious but no one would, or possibly could hear him at all. Every little inch of space was congested with men, women, and even some children. Assuming this was one of the many crowds afraid and angry about the 'Raj' in India. he got himself out of the crowd finally, panting. Agony surging through him, for he could not find his only family but also because he blamed himself for getting out of the bed so late at night. He wondered if he got up only a minute later, the crowd would be a little away and the only thing he'd do was to inquire and then get back to sleep. How funny human brain can be sometimes, where every Indian had anger for how mistreated they were under the british, he felt the need to be revolutionary because he couldn't find his sister. The ultimate blame, to the british people. A sharp shout from a distance rang in his ears and yet not sure if it was Abi- though he hoped he was right- he ran towards the direction. "Annan.." she softly spoke this time, softer. Her clothes were almost torn and skin from hands scraped, hair messed up and eyes swollen from what he assumed, crying.

The dust hugged his knee as he sat down in front of her, his big palm softly resting on her cheek, "Shh~ I'm here Abi". What he couldn't notice though, was the blood oozing out of her back. Her chest, went up and down a little too heavily to seem normal, Nilan noticed too and before he could ask, her head fell on his shoulder. Silence took over the place, too silent to be comfortable anymore. His hand, it started to feel warm and soon wet, knowing what it could be a shiver ran down his spine. "Abi?" shaking the now unresponsive body he pulled away his hands, red. "Abi! No-" slow pats turned into panick-stricken shaking but no answer. "Abi.. I had plans for us." A whimper left his mouth followed by a couple more whimpers to finally a loud cry.

The strong fire roared and flourished, the men perfomed the cremation, and then Nilan realized, not everyone had so loved the nation before but everyone certainly had lost someone because of their new rulers, rulers who thought only about their personal gain, and those rules whom even the most literate ones weren't supporting. He knew, his music and his literature was the only sword he had and the only way his sister's death could be forgiven was these white men out of his country, their country.