23September,2015

                                                       Jaisalmer,India

I stood there shocked by the revelation of the news that my dad was no more,the man whose fingers were the solemn way to my comfort ever since childhood was no longer alive.He laid there dead right in front of me.

The police said it happened because he was smoking and the house caught fire unexpectedly but not an ounce of blood in my body was ready to believe it.The man who never even once held a cigarette between his fingers died that too because of a cigarette.

I looked up at Veer,my boyfriend whose hand was placed over my shoulder as he silently supported me through my grief.my eyes red with all the crying as I spoke looking into his green ones,"Veer my dad never smoked,How could he die because of a cigarette?You trust me,right?"

The police left.He looked at me as his arms wrapped around my shivering frame.He gently pressed his fingers on my lower back as he whispered into my ear,"I know baby,I know.'His voice was soft,his grip was warm providing me strength.

For the first time since the nightmare began ,I exhaled,relief flooding me.He believed me.He was on my side.

And then he leaned closer,lips brushing against my ear,"Maine hi to unhe maara hai."

(I killed him.)     

I looked at him horrified and the next thing I remember are his hands wrapped around my neck choking me ,depriving me of oxygen.My eyes filled up with tears of restlessness as he smirked at me enjoying my desperation.My eyes silently begging him for answers while he only chuckled looking at me.

At that particular moment he looked nothing like my lover but he was instead a monster who was ready to feed on my sorrows,my tears and my helplessness.

My eyes felt heavy and my body started losing energy.Everything around me blurred into darkness when he lit up my house on fire along with my dreams to have a happily ever after with him while he just smiled sadistically.

The only words I remember before everything went blur were,"Siyaasat mein mohabbat kamzori hoti hai,Taara aur jise raj karna ho wo kamzoriaan nahi paalta."

(Love is a weakness in politics and those who wish to rule don't nurture weaknesses.)

These words were etched in my memory as if they were inked on my mind permanently.

                                                              ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓

                   2 years later

A girl in her late teenage years stood in a pandaal where a big idol of Maa Kaali was placed on the stage and everyone was being coloured in red.Red flew everywhere wrapping every other thing in it's embrace.She was no exception,the red in the air wrapped her too.

She too was coloured in red,the colour of blood,vengeance and the greatest weakness of all,Love.The sound of the conch shell pulled her out of her reverie when she looked up at the devi.

All of a sudden winds started blowing almost making it difficult for anyone to see anything when the idol of devi glowed.It glowed as if she was appearing just to meet her children.Everyone else was trying to fight the wind but Meera looked straight at the idol.

She seemed completely unaware of her surroundings and kept walking towards the idol as if the divine goddess was calling upon her to meet her.Just when she reached near the idol,she bowed her head and touched the devi's feet,

Just then,a strange voice whispered in her ear- a voice that wasn't human ,yet felt deeply familiar,as if it had always been a part of her.

"Khoon ka karz khoon se hi chukta hai.Jaa,vinaash kar us paapi ka aur apne kartavya ko nibha.Tu shikar nahi shakti hai."

(A debt of blood is repaid with blood .Go,destroy that sinner and fulfill your duty.You are not the hunted - you are the power itself.)

A sudden wave of energy surged through her body making her gasp.The air around her crackled,the flames of the diyas flickering wildly as if bowing to her presence.The red in the air seemed to glow brighter as if Maa Kaali herself had marked her.

Meera opened her eyes and this time they no longer held pain-only purpose.

She was vengeance.She was justice.She was Shakti.

                                                 ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓

Some wounds do not heal- they shape.There comes a moment when the past no longer holds you captive.When pain is no longer a chain but a weapon. When the fire that once burned you becomes the flame that guides you.

Justice and revenge—they are two sides of the same coin. The world preaches patience, forgiveness... but history is not written by those who wait. It is written by those who rise. By those who understand that some sins demand blood, not prayers.

Maa does not choose without reason. She does not place her hand upon the weak—

she awakens those who are meant to destroy what must be destroyed. And those who believe they can play with lives, with faith, with love, under the name of power... they have forgotten one thing—even the darkest of nights tremble before the fury of the goddess.

They call it justice, they call it destiny, they call it madness.

But the truth is simple.

Some stories do not end with mercy.

Some stories end with annihilation.