The Purple House Terrace! #story-mentor

It was a few minutes past midnight as he got off the bus at Uttarkashi. The chill wind swept through his clothes as he clung on to the small blue freezer bag he had. The only piece of luggage he carried from Delhi and it was ultra-precious.

He glanced sideways to check if anyone was watching him and his bag. Nobody! Thank god for that. The streetlight flickered as he waited for the rest of passengers to disperse before he made his way out. He wanted to walk out last. He didn't want anyone following him!

His body was stiff and cold from the 12 hour bus ride. He stiffened up again as he saw a shadow flit across the other side of the platform. Nobody should have been there. Was someone watching? He shivered, as the spasm of muscle contractions hit his body. It was below freezing temperatures, but it wasn't the cold. The contents in his bag were what frightened him.

It was a secret he didn't want out in the open. After all, the result of violent actions had filled this bag.

He hobbled out of the bus station, hoping his limp wouldn’t draw attention. It was a long walk to the purple house, through the city, on the other side of the hill. The deathly silence of a small town was not something he had gotten comfortable with.

Dreading the worst, he looked down at his forearms; it was marked with a long crimson line. It looked like a bad attempt at slitting his wrists. He was grateful for the darkness which enveloped him and hid these lines. There was more of it oozing out of the bag onto his arms, just the thing he didn’t want happening. A little more and someone would find out!

The rattle of a loose drain cover unsettled him. It was his own footsteps, but it didn’t help, he was properly spooked. The sound, drew the attention of the unwelcome guests, he had been dreading. A street dog pricked his ears and looked towards him. The dog sniffed the air, noticing something fishy in the bag. It moved closer and let out a long howl.

Limp or not, he had to get away from the nosy dog. He ran or at least made a feeble attempt to do so. The bag weighed him down or maybe it was his guilt. It didn’t matter, he felt like he was on a treadmill. No matter how much effort he put in, he wasn’t going anywhere.

The dog became dogs and the pack started following him. Sniffing the air, wanting to know what lay in the bag. He couldn’t shake them off.

If the dogs brought out anyone from their houses, it would be game over for him. He would surely find himself handcuffed and rotting in a dank cell. That wasn’t part of the plan.

Finally, the home stretch. He saw the purple house. He started running towards it, the dogs gave chase, growling and yelping behind him. His heart was in his mouth as he clutched the blue bag ever tighter. He slammed his body through the door. The latch gave way, and he found himself on the floor with the contents of the bag strewn across the hearth.

With a sudden burst of energy he jumped up and slammed the door shut on the snarling dogs with their dirty yellow eyes. He was safe at last. He went to the terrace of the purple house and looked out. Mission accomplished and he hadn’t got caught.

He had managed to sneak in pork chops with barbecue sauce into the vegetarian holy temple town of Uttarkashi!

• For those who don’t know. Uttarkashi is a holy town in the Himalayas situated on the banks of the holy Ganges, where a strict culture of vegetarianism is followed and enforced. One needs to get out of the city to find even an egg!

• The image of the story is from my real life mentor who sent me this image and prodded me into writing a story revolving around it!