Tarini Konchady's story, set in futuristic turbulent times of political oppression, impressed with its steady narration and heartbreaking emotion.
Syahi squinted through the window, pressing her face against the dirty glass. Everything outside was smeared with shades of brown, including the posters of White Hathi that dotted the walls of the newspaper factory across the street. When Syahi had asked Kaagaz if people slipped 'supplements' into newspapers, just like they did, Kaagaz had given her a 'shut your-mouth or I'll do it for you' look.
Syahi never brought up the subject again, but the newspaper factory still held a certain allure for her, even if its content was strictly pro-White Hathi. White Hathi was also a mysterious figure to her. Everywhere she went, Syahi saw posters of him, with slogans printed below his face. It was a strange face too, as if someone had drawn a human face over an elephant's head.
During her five years at school, Syahi had been fed conflicting views about White Hathi from her teachers and her brother. Kaagaz rarely missed an opportunity to spit at the White Hathi poster that hung outside their door. But she had learnt more from him than she had learnt in school. All she remembered from school were the loud thrumming songs in praise of White Hathi, and the horrible drum that ruled her mind with its earthshaking beats. Once, as punishment, she was made to stand next to it during the morning assembly. A sea of faces, some confused, some ardent, but mostly mindless, bellowed the song while the head teacher beat the drum with heavy hands.
White Hathi is our leader!
White Hathi is our king!
Service to White Hathi's cause
Does redemption bring!
Syahi had lasted about 10 seconds. When she woke up, the hall was empty, the drum was silent and Kaagaz was leaning over her with a mingled expression of both relief and fury.
She never went to school again. Kaagaz got her a job as a packer in the magazine factory with him. Nobody missed her in school anyway. Many children did drop out of school to start work early, she noted, following an old newspaper tumbling across the road. Even without reading it, Syahi knew what the headline was — MISCREANTS CAUGHT FOR PROPAGANDA DISTRIBUTION. That was usually what the newspapers said, or some variation of the same, because propaganda distributors were caught almost daily by White Hathi's enforcers. There was always a photo of the frenzied mob in the square where they had been executed. The city was dotted with these squares, each one equipped with a platform that bore a thick post and gallows. Executions happened at least once every week. The only execution Syahi had seen was the one her school had taken her class for.
Syahi was more concerned with not being crushed by the crowd than with what was happening on the platform, but when the shot rang out, it was as though someone had flipped a switch. For one infinitesimal moment, everyone's eyes were on the limp figure still bound to the post. Then, the square exploded with cheers and Syahi had to focus on surviving again. Kaagaz had said that their father had died in the same way, and that their mother had followed while giving birth to Syahi. Syahi was 13 now, the same age as Kaagaz had been when she was born. "I couldn't have done the things he did at 13," Syahi thought, watching the newspaper flounce out of sight, "I wonder if our faces will be on the front page someday..."
Someone yanked the collar of her shirt. "Ouch!" Syahi squealed as she tumbled off the box she'd been standing on and landed at the feet of a very amused Kaagaz. Syahi glared at him mock angrily as she stood up.
"What took you so long?" Kaagaz asked, waving two envelopes at her. "Those misers are getting more and more reluctant to part with our salaries," Kaagaz sighed dramatically. Syahi giggled and grabbed at the envelopes. Kaagaz flicked them away quicker than she could blink. "Not until we get home," he said, waving an admonishing finger. Syahi rolled her eyes. "And what is that on your face?" Syahi hastily rubbed a sleeve across her face. "Yuck." Kaagaz laughed, "You look rusty. Wash your face later, you little ink blot! We're going to see Kahaani now."
"I'm not an ink blot!"
The street was dotted with workers heading home. Even after working at the factory for so long, Syahi could only name her brother and Kahaani. Kahaani worked in the printing section and was the only other person who knew about the 'supplement plan'. In fact, Kahaani had made it possible. "Where is she?" Syahi whispered to Kaagaz. They passed under three street lights before Kaagaz spoke. "There." Syahi peered ahead and saw a young woman turn into a lane between two buildings on their right.
As they passed the lane, Kaagaz grabbed Syahi's hand and pulled her into the lane. The buildings loomed over them, making Syahi feel as though she was about to be crushed between two giant hands. As they reached the main road, the shabby concrete structures dropped behind. This road was deserted; the factories here ended their shift an hour later. They moved up the road, Kaagaz walking briskly, Syahi running to keep up.
Kaagaz took a different route to the warehouse every time, which was extremely frustrating but sadly necessary. After what felt like an eternity in the maze of buildings, they stopped at a familiar door. Kaagaz knocked on it, to the rhythm of the redemption song. They heard chains rattling and bolts being undone before the door slid open a crack. "State your names."
Kaagaz hissed, "It's us! Who else could it be? White Hathi himself?" The voice, which had started out as dignified and professional, seemed to be suppressing a laugh. "You never know."
"Kahaani!"
"Oh, all right." The door opened fully and Syahi smiled at the woman, who looked pretty even with the chin-length regulation haircut. Nobody she knew was quite like Kahaani. "Come in, even though you didn't get past the security test." Kaagaz snorted and stepped in. Syahi followed, giving Kahaani a big grin as she passed.
The warehouse was an oasis from the rest of the world. The first time Syahi had seen it, she was convinced that Kaagaz and Kahaani were playing some sort of joke on her. Books, hundreds and hundreds of books, lay in mountains, reaching up to the ceiling.
Books! Books had been outlawed for as long as Syahi could remember. She understood why White Hathi and the Elephant Army feared them. Books held words, ideas, other worlds that everyone was supposed to hate as enemies. They seemed to whisper to Syahi as she wandered through the warehouse looking for something new to copy.
Books were like birds, more elegant than the deformed ones that lingered throughout the city. In a box under Kahaani's bed lay their favourite books — Pride and Prejudice, 1984 and A Little Princess.
Kaagaz often said that they were living in 1984, but Kahaani always shushed him before he could say more. Out of curiosity, Syahi had sneaked the book out of the box to see what was so bad about it but Kaagaz caught her. Though not before she saw a phrase printed in bold — "Ignorance is strength." Which made no sense at all until Syahi realised (after prolonged musing) that it was the policy that the Elephant Army followed — they kept everyone in ignorance. Enforcers were supposed to have seized all books years ago, but Kahaani had found the warehouse and made it her home. "They were probably going to burn them," she had said when Syahi asked about the rusted cans of oil scattered about the place.
Kahaani never said why she liked Pride and Prejudice, but Syahi suspected romance to be the reason behind it, because whenever Kahaani read it, she would get a dreamy look in her eyes, and be nicer to Kaagaz than usual. To Syahi's disappointment, Kaagaz never seemed to notice anything.
Syahi had fallen in love with A Little Princess the first time she had read it. She could never really explain why she liked it. She blinked as Kahaani flapped a sheaf of papers in her face. "We've got work to do!"
"Always lost in thought," Kaagaz shook his head at his sister. He smiled. "Though that's really not such a bad thing." Syahi blushed and went to her usual spot, "What are we copying today?"
Kahaani set a book down in front of her. Syahi read the title and frowned. "Poetry? How can we interest anyone with poetry?" Kahaani pouted. "It's actually very powerful stuff. But if you don't like it, I can always get you another..."
"No, no, I'll copy it!" Syahi snatched the book out of Kahaani's reach. She heard Kahaani and Kaagaz laughing as she flipped through the pages.
Poetry! Why poetry! Syahi scowled at the old print. She stopped at a random page and began to read. "Where the mind is without fear," Syahi read the poem once, twice and finally stared at it for a full minute. She waved the book at Kaagaz, "Who wrote this?"
"I don't do long distance reading," he sighed, pulling the book closer. "Can't you see the name underneath?"
"What?" Syahi squinted at the bottom of the page. "Rabindranath Tagore," She looked up. "Who was he?"
"I think he was part of the Independence Movement," Kahaani said, pausing in between her work, "He was very famous." Syahi drank in the poem for a moment longer before asking, "Can I copy this today?"
"Of course you can!"
Bending over the paper, Syahi began to laboriously copy out the poem, careful to include the poet's name on each sheet. After two hours, she had used up her stack of paper. "I'm done!" she called, straightening up.
"Ouch, my back!" Kaagaz was with 1984 again, while Kahaani was still copying her chosen passage. "Do you think they'll like the poem?"
Kaagaz looked up, "We'll never know, will we? We're just trying to spread the message to as many people as possible." That was the root of the supplement programme — to somehow spread the beautiful, terrible, powerful words from their treasure trove of books. The trio would smuggle the pages to the magazine factory where they were alone. Syahi and Kaagaz would slip pages into magazines before boxing them. They had been at it for nearly a year now, but Syahi still felt a nervous thrill every time they sent the boxes to the mailing room. There was no end to the material they had at hand and Kahaani had once joked that they would be ghosts by the time they got through all the books.
Her work done, Syahi decided to read the rest of the book. She'd barely started, when Kaagaz called, "Time to go!"
"But I just started!" Syahi whined.
"You can finish the book tomorrow, Syahi."
Syahi scowled as she tucked the pages into her jacket. Kagaaz did the same with the pages he and Kahaani had copied. "See you, Kahaani," Syahi sighed as she and Kaagaz walked out. Kahaani tweaked her nose. "You'll see me sooner than you think, so cheer up," Syahi gave her a half-hearted smile.
Kaagaz gave her a little push, "Go on!"
"I'm going, I'm going!" Syahi grumbled, scowling at him. "Goodbye Kaagaz," Kahaani called from the doorway. He blushed. "Bye." The door shut.
As they were walking home, Syahi studied Kagaaz closely. His face was flushed and he seemed distracted. "Kaagaz?"
He jumped. "What?"
She gave him a mischievous smile. "You don't...like Kahaani, do you?" His blush deepened and Syahi was sure she was right.
"No, no I don't!" He fumbled with the corner of his jacket. Syahi grinned. "If you say so," she sang.
Kaagaz sighed. "I have to get to work early tomorrow, so I'll be gone before you wake up. That's okay, right?"
"No problem," Syahi answered nonchalantly.
The days were getting colder. Syahi pulled her jacket around her as she made her way to the factory. Winter would've been better if it weren't so cold. An usually rough gust jostled Syahi, as if it knew what she was thinking. "All right, I'm sorry," she muttered, and glanced around to see if anyone had heard. Anyone could be listening, anywhere. Once, when they were in the warehouse, Syahi had wondered aloud if the place could be bugged. Kaagaz had snorted and said she had a wild imagination, but Kahaani had laid a reassuring hand on hers, "We couldn't be brave without fear. And what we're doing is really brave."
Kahaani was so much like a book. Syahi felt the pages inside her jacket rustle and glanced round. Transporting the pages to the factory was the most dangerous part of their operation. Syahi tried not to look self-conscious as she entered the factory.
She caught sight of Kahaani at the check-in, but Kaagaz was nowhere to be seen. Syahi fed her card into the attendance slot and hurried to the packing room, hoping he would be there. Only a pile of boxes and a loose heap of magazines awaited her.
"Something...must have happened," Syahi said aloud, in a feeble attempt to reassure herself. She felt fear starting to choke her. I need to find Kahaani. No, not now, people would notice. But what?
Get rid of the papers. Syahi immediately pulled out the sheaf of papers and began to stack the magazines into boxes, occasionally sliding a page into one. She'd nearly finished hiding all the papers when an announcement boomed through the factory.
"Workers, report to the press square immediately." Syahi froze. They never held executions at the start of shifts unless...Syahi shuddered. "Kahaani. Find Kahaani."
People were making their way to the doors. Syahi heard murmurs and grumbles and the soft trudging of feet. She hastily hid the last few pages and dashed into the corridor. The people around her were a shifting organic labyrinth that frightened and confused her.
"Kahaani?" she called. Nobody paid any attention to her. Syahi fought to control her panic. "Kahaani?" Nothing existed but the sound of trudging feet, the alien faces and her suffocating fear. Syahi felt tears stinging her eyes.
Then someone was dragging her down the corridor and they joined the tide exiting the building. Syahi stumbled after her rescuer on unsteady legs. "Who are you?" she panted. The person turned and Syahi grew weak with relief. It was Kahaani.
"What's," she began, but, just as quickly, Kahaani covered her mouth. They had reached the square and as expected, the platform was ready for an execution. The Enforcers were tying someone to the post and a suited man was checking the microphone. Syahi clutched Kahaani's arm like a child. "Where's Kaagaz?" she choked, holding back tears.
Kahaani bit her lip. "I don't know Syahi." They were right in the middle of the crowd now.
The suited man was beginning his speech. The Enforcers who were standing around the prisoner parted, giving them a clear view of him.
Syahi felt like she was falling, a strange rushing sensation that made everything dreamy and unfocused. The sound of the crowd rose and fell with her pulse and her grip on Kahaani slackened. It was Kaagaz. Syahi felt Kahaani catch her like a vice.
"LET ME GO!" Syahi shrieked as she struggled. "I have to save him, let me GO!" But Kahaani held fast. "There''s nothing we can do, Syahi." The finality of her statement froze Syahi in place. She forced herself to look up at the platform.
The short man was still talking and Kagaaz was fighting against his bonds. The crowd was cheering lustily, intent on the scene before them. Syahi remembered something Kaagaz had once read from 1984 — "The hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill." Syahi felt it all around her, in the people screaming for Kaagaz to be shot, even though they didn't know him. In one lucid moment, Syahi understood how the world worked, a world created by White Hathi, and she felt an intense hatred choke her. And she was screaming with the crowd, against them, screaming against the weight of her revelation.
BANG. Kaagaz slumped forward, and silence. Then, in a wave, the crowd began to shriek in furious delight. Kahaani was dragging her away and the next thing Syahi knew, they were in front of the warehouse and Kahaani was stuffing a bag into her hands. "Get to the city wall just behind the bread factory. There's a way out for you there. Just run. You hear me, Syahi? You have to get out." Syahi felt Kahaani kiss her forehead and then, she was all alone. There were shouts in the street, followed by a shot. Syahi turned and ran as fast as she could.
She was flying through the maze of concrete. Left, right, left, go! She dashed into the alley by the factory and spotted the hole. GO! And she was diving through the hole, not caring what awaited her.
There was a slope, a very rough slope as it turned out. When Syahi regained consciousness, she was cut and bruised all over. She sat up gingerly and saw the contents of the bag strewn around her. Food, clothes and...books? She grabbed the nearest one. Pride and Prejudice. 1984. A Little Princess. And the collection of poetry she'd been reading. "Where the mind is without fear..." Could she find a place like that? Did it even exist?
Syahi slowly gathered up her belongings when a poster of White Hathi fluttered by. Syahi picked it up and stared at the crumpled placid face, the human-elephant hybrid. In one motion, she tore it in half and flung the pieces aside. Then she began to walk away, her back on the city walls.
A standard 12 student, Tarini Konchady likes reading, creative writing, listening to music and solving the occasional math problem. She plans to study astronomy and physics, with writing on the side.