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Five minutes ago.
It was just five minutes ago as Jenny was standing on the balcony above a furious crowd.
The air was filled with noise.
Shouting men, weeping women, cries of pain, thumping of lathi on bodies.
It smelled like blood.
Sand thrown up by the movements of the crowd mingled with the tears that flowed down Jenny's face.
Her gaze was fixed on a body lying on a pedestal in the middle of the crowd.
Suddenly her body was moved without her doing. She wasn't able to fight back as
an officer dragged her into her room. It was an order of her uncle Scott Buxton.
Now she was all by herself.
In her room there was absolute silence. No sound came in from outside.
Everything seemed surreal now. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, the floor seemed to move.
She has lived in these premises for two years, so she knew her room inside out.
That's the only reason her legs found their way to her couch. Before her eyes, Jenny saw only the motionless and bloodstained body of Akthar.
No, not Akthar. Bheem.
She let herself fall onto the sofa. Her right hand clenched the armrest . The fingernails of her left hand dug into the tender flesh of her breast, right where the heart sits.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she started to scream.
If it were possible to rip her own heart out of her body, then she would do it now. Hoping the pain of the broken heart would go away.
Was he dead? Could anyone survive such torture? There was no answer.
She feels helpless and alone.
She was alone in this cruel, cold world.
Fifteen minutes.
She still couldn't comprehend what had happened in the last fifteen minutes.
Only this morning at breakfast, did she hear that Bheem would be punished in public at noon. From then on she was unable to do anything until the time of punishment came.
As she entered the balcony, Bheem was already flogged.
A crowd was gathered around the dais.
Jenny estimated the number of people who came to watch at around two hundred or even more.
Just below the balcony were sixty British soldiers,some of them on horses, stationed in front of the broken gate that Bheem and his entourage broke through in a truck just two days ago.
At each corner of the pedestal stood a soldier in khaki and one special officer, recognizable by his red uniform.
The special officer explained to the crowd that the suspected criminal would either fall to his knees, confess his crimes and beg for mercy or he would be punished severely.
In the moment, as the man in the red uniform looked up to Jenny’s uncle Scott, she was shocked that it was the face of Bheem’s best friend Ram.
Back when she met him for the first time, she didn't think much about it, didn't even really notice it and now it hit her like a blow. Now she understood why she was able to converse with him in her native language. He was an Indian man in the British Army. A traitor to his own country and his best friend.
Uncle Scott nodded to him.
There was a tense silence. Nobody dared to make a noise. Even the birds didn't sing. The boots made a dull sound on the dais boards as the punisher stepped behind the tied man.
Another seconds of silence passed.
Suddenly the silence was broken by a loud, lashing noise. The whip hitted the broad back of Bheem. A slight groan left his mouth and the crowd gasped.
A second whiplash penetrated Bheem’s body. A third one followed immediately.
Jenny had to close her eyes and turn her head away. She couldn’t bear to see her beloved get hurt. The fact that the whip was led by the hand of his best friend made it even worse.
She hadn't told anyone how she felt about Bheem. It wasn't love at first sight, but when they were together at the market, she felt more secure in his presence than ever. When the guards came to take her home, her heart told her that she must see him again, no matter what. So she spontaneously invited him to the Valentine's party. From then on, her love for Bheem grew day by day.
And now she was on the balcony watching the public punishment of the man she fell in love with.
In fact, Jenny was sent to India by her parents, hoping the adventurous daughter would be tamed and find a man for life. A British man, of course, and not a native of a foreign country. And yet that is exactly what happened. Jenny fell in love with one of the strongest, most soulful and kindest Indian man, she has had the privilege of knowing.
Each crack of the whip penetrated her heart and made her wince as if it would hit her herself.
She realized that now she had to be strong for him. She wasn't allowed to look away now, that's the least she could do for him at that moment.
Under the continued blows of the whip, Bheem had collapsed and was kneeling.
For a brief moment, Jenny thought the horror had come to an end and she couldn't be more relieved.
He would probably spend the rest of his life in prison, but he would live.
She was startled to hear her Aunt Catherine's disappointment at what she perceived as little blood. Her aunt didn't seem happy with the outcome.
Lady Buxton also was the one, who observed that the accused did not kneel.
The punishment wasn’t over.
Ram was about to strike again when Lady Buxton stopped him.
Suddenly she pulled out a whip fitted with nails. Why did a woman like her have one right at hand and where did the whip suddenly come from?
Jenny no longer recognized her own aunt. Catherine has always been a bit callous and strict. Still, the young lady never expected her aunt to enjoy seeing someone brutally mauled. Until they drown in their own blood.
The weapon was first tried on a pillar. The wood flew in shreds as the whip was pulled back. The brutality made Jenny jump backwards.
Her mind and body screamed at her to run away. Her stomach writhed and she felt like she was going to throw up at any moment. Again she looked away.
The nail whip would kill him if he didn't get down on his knees. Lady Buxton seemed to like it though.
What should Jenny do? Surely she couldn't stand idly by. She had never felt so helpless as in this moment.
A calm voice full of strength and hope reached her ear. It seemed to be the song of a god. Jenny looked up to see Bheem straightening himself. It was he who sang. This time he didn't flinch when the nail whip hit him, he just kept singing. For a brief moment he looked at the balcony, sadly his eyes didn't find those of his admirer.
His blood squirted through the air and Jenny had to hold on to the railing so as not to faint.
She wondered how heartless a man must be to torture another human being.
The singing filled her not only with warmth and strength, but also with hatred towards the oppressors. At that moment, her hatred focused on whoever wielded the whip, Ram.
Was he ever Bheem's friend? Could a monster like him even feel anything like love? Or even have sympathy?
He always seemed very friendly, cheerful and above all familiar with Bheem. Was it all just acting? What good would that do him? Did he know who Akthar really was and was he just waiting for the moment to betray him?
A man who wanted to save a little girl who was wrongfully taken from her family. The girl, of all people, who had been living in the same house as Jenny for months.
Bheem's feet were bound and he was hung up while a hundredweight block pulled on his legs. Instead of singing, for a brief moment there was a scream. No human could have survived that. However, Bheem kept singing.
Even if she didn't understand a word of his song, she knew that he would never surrender to his oppressors. He would rather die than kneel.
It seemed like the only way out and as much as it hurt her, she accepted his decision. Even if she had a different opinion only seconds before.
His song came to an end. The soldiers untied him and dropped him.
Although his strength was visibly failing him, he still managed to tense his body so that he didn't fall to his knees.
With the last of his strength, just before he collapsed, he held out his hand toward the crowd. They seemed not only moved by the singing that had just ended, but also filled with anger.
Suddenly the crowd rushed forward and attacked the British.
Something in Jenny made her want to storm off the balcony.
With a sweeping movement, she turned around, forcing her eyes to look away from Bheem.
She ran, her legs controlled by her burning emotions. It was a mixture of hatred, anger and concern.
With an inexplicable force she pushed the soldiers aside who were just arriving as reinforcements.
After what seemed like forever, she arrived at the gate. Her eyes hastily sought her lover in the chaos.
When she finally found him, she turned to stone.
There he lay motionless and covered in blood in the arms of his punisher. The man in the red uniform clutched Bheem's body, his eyes filled with tears. Jenny could hardly believe what she saw. She just has to imagine the tears. Anything else wouldn't make sense. Why would he torture his friend and then cry for him? She startled herself as the thought crossed her mind that she would rather see Ram broken and covered in blood, preferably to the bitter end. Did she just turn into her heartless aunt?
Something was tugging at her and the scenery was getting farther and farther away.
Now she was back in her pink room.
In the end she was just a small, delicate, naive girl in a foreign country who dared to interfere in matters that were none of her business.
Could she have prevented everything?
Wouldn't this situation have happened if she hadn't met Akthar?
If only she had known earlier where Malli was really from, could she have helped Bheem?
She was told that Malli was an orphan. Lady and Lord Buxton would have found her alone in the woods and they were kind enough to take the little girl home. She was so gullible and believed in this fairy tale.
Her thoughts threatened to end in a spiral of self-pity. The tormented man's song sounded again in her head. New strength flowed through her body. From now on she wouldn't sit idly by. At that moment, she vowed to free Malli from her prison.
She still didn't know how exactly she should do that, she would still have to find a plan.
But first she had to make sure whether Bheem was still alive or not.
She wiped her tears from her face, gathered all her strength and walked out the door with resolute steps.
Her target was Edward. He would know if her lover is alive.
She also realized that she had to wrap him around her finger. Because Edward held all the plans in his hand, including the schedules of the guards. If she found out when the changing of the guard was, she'd have a good chance of smuggling Malli out of the building.
India has not tamed her, on the contrary. The country and the people made her even stronger and braver.
She would fight for this country, for her love.