I am an ordinary woman, she told herself. I have been a servant in other people’s homes for the greater part of my life. Always subservient, obeying orders. Eating after everyone else had eaten. Sleeping on my mat in a corner of a room, seeing that other people were comfortable. And now, now that I had hopes for a different kind of life, now when I thought things would change—but no, things have changed, though not for the better. Yet I have to do this for my daughter, look at the faces of the dead and dying. No, Seela couldn’t do it. I’ll do it for her. I am her mother. Who else has she had all her life? Myself and her grandmother. Two women. There has never been a man to give me strength. I have done things that I never believed possible for a woman to do. No, it will never end for me. My strength grows with each crisis. I’ve been well trained through the years. There’s no one else I can turn to. I’ll do it by myself. I can’t help it if my mind keeps going back to all the events of the night. I’ll relive this experience for ever.

The knocking on all those doors resounded in her ears. She had opened the door. What else could she have done? They wanted Sena. As they did all the males in the village. Behind them she saw that vision—Yama. Yama, the god of death. He too was with them. On whose side was he? He was a constant guest on both fronts these days.

They pointed the guns at Sena. No, he couldn’t escape. Nor could all the others. Weeping, shrieking echoed through the night, the night that Alice had thought would be so peaceful. She smelt burning rice. The brands crackled and the fire raced, shedding sparks as it blew up.

Yama, Yama. Was it only she who saw him? Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, the men kept saying as they pointed the gun at Sena, prodded him with the butt.

‘Don’t try to resist,’ said one of them. ‘And don’t say you are innocent. You want to be martyrs. Then where are the victims? Someone has to be the victim. Who put up all those posters with their violent messages? Who carried off the weapons after the attacks on police stations and the army camps? To use for what purpose? To use against whom? The men of this village—we have proof. The last attack … there were deaths. Now get on, move on …. The fires are spreading all over the country. Come on, hurry up.’

Her daughter had fallen at the feet of the men. She had pleaded and wept.

‘Don’t take him away. Don’t. Don’t.’ It had all fallen on deaf ears.