11-06-2026, 01:03 PM
Chapter 7: The Burning
04:00 AM (The early morning after Holika Dahan)
At the main gate, Returning from the nightly duties from the main gate, Dara found the substitute night watchman from Tower C waiting for him—a young Nepali named Bikram, barely twenty-two, with eager eyes and a nervous smile.
"Dara ji," Bikram said, falling into step beside him. "I’m filing in for Bikas. The secretary said we're to check the cameras near the community hall as well. They might need servicing next week"
"The community hall?" Dara frowned. "I thought the upgrade was for the cameras surrounding the main gate until Tower C, D & E."
"That's what I thought too. But the orders came from Colonel Singh himself. He wants all cameras facing the generator shed checked. Something about a power fluctuation."
Dara's frown deepened. The generator shed. Why would Singh care about cameras facing the generator shed?
They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing on the concrete path. The colony was quiet—most families were peacefully at home, tired from the evening's festivities. In the distance, Dara could see the bonfire ashes assembled in the central ground, a pile of burnt wood whose embers felt like tiny orange eyes looking suspiciously at him.
"Bikram," Dara said, keeping his voice low, "have you heard any... talk? About the colony? About anything unusual?"
Bikram glanced at him, then quickly away. "What kind of talk, Dara ji?"
"Any kind. I've been head watchman for only a few weeks. There are things I should know."
Bikram was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "There are rumors, Dara ji. About the RWA members. About... about certain activities."
"What activities?"
"Men. Women. Things that happen after dark." Bikram swallowed. "I shouldn't say more. It's not my place."
Dara stopped walking. He grabbed Bikram's arm, forcing the younger man to face him.
"It is your place," Dara said, his voice hard. "You are a watchman. Your job is to watch. To see. To report. Now tell me what you've seen."
Bikram's eyes were wide, frightened. "I've seen... I've seen the secretary going to the generator shed at odd hours. Sometimes alone, sometimes with others. And I've seen... I've seen your wife—"
He stopped, as if realizing he had said too much.
Dara clutched his arm harder, “Tell me Bikram. I need to know”, he said firmly.
“Nothing Daraji, I’m just seen your wife talking to RWA members near the---“, before Bikram could finish his sentence, Dara released his arm.
His heart was pounding, his mind racing. Menaka. The generator shed. The RWA members. The promotion. The overtime on Holika Dahan.
It all clicked into place, a puzzle he hadn't known he was solving.
"Go back to the main gate," Dara said, his voice flat. "If anyone asks, tell them I'm feeling unwell. I need to take a break."
"But Colonel Singh said to finish checking the security cameras of—"
"Colonel Singh can go fuck himself." Dara turned and walked back toward the quarter, his strides long and purposeful.
He needed to find Menaka. He needed to ask her what was happening. He needed to take charge of the snow-ball that he had indistinctly started rolling into an avalanche.
---
The quarter was empty.
Menaka was long gone.
---
04:00 AM (The early morning after Holika Dahan)
At the main gate, Returning from the nightly duties from the main gate, Dara found the substitute night watchman from Tower C waiting for him—a young Nepali named Bikram, barely twenty-two, with eager eyes and a nervous smile.
"Dara ji," Bikram said, falling into step beside him. "I’m filing in for Bikas. The secretary said we're to check the cameras near the community hall as well. They might need servicing next week"
"The community hall?" Dara frowned. "I thought the upgrade was for the cameras surrounding the main gate until Tower C, D & E."
"That's what I thought too. But the orders came from Colonel Singh himself. He wants all cameras facing the generator shed checked. Something about a power fluctuation."
Dara's frown deepened. The generator shed. Why would Singh care about cameras facing the generator shed?
They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing on the concrete path. The colony was quiet—most families were peacefully at home, tired from the evening's festivities. In the distance, Dara could see the bonfire ashes assembled in the central ground, a pile of burnt wood whose embers felt like tiny orange eyes looking suspiciously at him.
"Bikram," Dara said, keeping his voice low, "have you heard any... talk? About the colony? About anything unusual?"
Bikram glanced at him, then quickly away. "What kind of talk, Dara ji?"
"Any kind. I've been head watchman for only a few weeks. There are things I should know."
Bikram was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "There are rumors, Dara ji. About the RWA members. About... about certain activities."
"What activities?"
"Men. Women. Things that happen after dark." Bikram swallowed. "I shouldn't say more. It's not my place."
Dara stopped walking. He grabbed Bikram's arm, forcing the younger man to face him.
"It is your place," Dara said, his voice hard. "You are a watchman. Your job is to watch. To see. To report. Now tell me what you've seen."
Bikram's eyes were wide, frightened. "I've seen... I've seen the secretary going to the generator shed at odd hours. Sometimes alone, sometimes with others. And I've seen... I've seen your wife—"
He stopped, as if realizing he had said too much.
Dara clutched his arm harder, “Tell me Bikram. I need to know”, he said firmly.
“Nothing Daraji, I’m just seen your wife talking to RWA members near the---“, before Bikram could finish his sentence, Dara released his arm.
His heart was pounding, his mind racing. Menaka. The generator shed. The RWA members. The promotion. The overtime on Holika Dahan.
It all clicked into place, a puzzle he hadn't known he was solving.
"Go back to the main gate," Dara said, his voice flat. "If anyone asks, tell them I'm feeling unwell. I need to take a break."
"But Colonel Singh said to finish checking the security cameras of—"
"Colonel Singh can go fuck himself." Dara turned and walked back toward the quarter, his strides long and purposeful.
He needed to find Menaka. He needed to ask her what was happening. He needed to take charge of the snow-ball that he had indistinctly started rolling into an avalanche.
---
The quarter was empty.
Menaka was long gone.
---
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