One moment I was standing peacefully, gazing at the gentle groves and placid waters of the village pond, and the very next moment, I was involved in a mad chase. They were after me, and only my racing skills could save me now.
My legs took some time getting into the groove, I had never really needed to run this hard before, as village life is usually slow-paced. I walked down to the station and back occasionally, but that was the extent of my exercise. Not nearly enough, as I was realizing very clearly now.
I had a headstart on them, but only a small one. And that too was being shortened by the second. I was definitely done for now.
They had an unfair advantage over me of course. Their legs were used to climbing steep, rocky hills day in and day out. And more importantly, they had lesser weight on them to carry.
But I was a solo female, and they were males, maddened by lust. If I allowed them to catch me, God only knows what they would do to me. So I ran, like I had never ran before, to save myself from those brutes.
And in the middle of this deep crisis, my owner’s ‘chaabuk'(riding whip) hit me again and again and she kept on shouting into my ears, “Bhaag Dhanno, aaj teri Basanti ki izzat ka sawaal hai!”
Lady, you’re only worried about YOUR izzat, what about mine? I’m trying to focus on saving myself from those wild, desperate horses here, and you start hitting me and distracting me with your shouts. She really got my goat at times with her self-centered nonsense. I had to get rid of her if I had to have any chance of survival.
And as I shrugged violently to dislocate her from my back, and fell myself too in the process, all I could think was, “Jai was right, yeh Basanti sach mein pyaari nahin bahut saari baatein karti hai!”
jagahdilmein 