So many stories, so little time.

Everything is a blur. They feel like distant memories, yet at the same time they feel like they happened just yesterday. Having spent a long time trying to forget them, remembering them once again feels like betraying self. But how could one forget their past and just move on? Do those memories mean nothing anymore? Of course, they do. They define her, but also hold her back. Past is past. Life goes on and so must she.

‘Madam… madam!’ a voice called out to her.

Monica was pulled back into reality and found herself staring at the driver who was looking back at her curiously.

‘We have arrived at your stop,’ he said.

It took a few seconds for her to make sense of what was happening. The last thing she remembered was getting into a three wheeled auto to meet an old friend. She had no idea how long back that was, but all that mattered at the moment was that her ride had come to an end.

‘Yes… yes,’ she replied ineptly before getting out of the auto. She proceeded to pay the driver who quietly accepted it and went about his way.

The day was coming to an end and the setting sun soaked the entire city in bright orange. The market that lined the road she was on was buzzing with people going about their business. In front of her was a small clinic which had comfortably inserted itself in between two stores. The one on the right was a pharmacy that run twenty-four seven while the one of the left was a convenience store. All three were owned by Monica’s old friend, Samrat aka Sam, who worked as a doctor at the clinic.

The shutter for the clinic was closed as Sam was yet to arrive for his evening duties. There were no patients waiting for his arrival, but a few stood before the counter of the pharmacy. Monica quietly walked to the side of the building where she decided to patiently wait for him.

‘Hello madam,’ a very familiar voice called out to her. She turned to her right to see the pharmacist looking at her with an annoyed look on his face.

‘Bala!’ Monica said as she approached the counter.

‘No time for little folk likes us?’ he asked.

‘Oh, come on. I was just waiting for the customers to leave.’

He looked at her suspiciously for a moment but broke his façade seeing her smile again. He had known her for as long as Sam did. Though much of her life was a mystery to him, he knew just enough to know what she had been through. So, he made sure to be very careful about what he spoke.

‘So, when did you come back into town?’ he asked.

‘Just a few days back. Had to clean out the entire house, so I hadn’t step a foot outside till today.’

‘You… doing okay now?’ he asked.

Bala was thin and short with dark skin. He always maintained a clean trim which accompanied by his square face made him look sharp as a tact. But he was by all measures a humble person and soft-spoken as well. So, Monica could feel his unease at trying to make a conversation with her as he tried to tiptoe around any sensitive subjects.

‘I am doing fine. Don’t worry about it. What about you? How are things at home?’ Monica asked.

Kollum is one of the innumerous small towns scattered throughout the country. Most of its inhabitants come from the villages that surrounded it. So was the case with Bala. With an ailing mother and an overworked father, his life wasn’t always pleasant. But when his father handed his live savings, asking him to make something of himself, he knew right away he would waste it all if he wasn’t going to be careful. As luck would have it, he met a budding doctor by the name Samrat. Before he knew it, he was running a pharmacy, had money to send back to his home, and a doctor who offered treat his mother for a reasonable price.

‘Looks like you two have gotten started already?’ said a voice.

Monica turned around to see a young man walk up to the counter. He was tall and had a wide frame. He wore a neatly ironed formals while carrying a satchel with a stethoscope hanging out from its side. Monica’s face lit up seeing the face of an old friend. ‘Hello sir, aren’t you early today?’ she said with a wide smile on her face.

‘Early? If I had patients waiting for me today, they would be livid. Speaking of which,’ he looked at Bala and asked, ‘anyone came for me?’

Bala shook his head and said, ‘you can take a break. I will inform you when someone comes.’

Sam turned back to Monica and asked, ‘where do you want to go?’

‘You know exactly where?’ Monica replied.

***

People from the villages aren’t accustomed to the lifestyle of a city dweller. However, things were changing fast. The small town of Kollum and many others like it were quickly getting infused with modern lifestyle, turning them into budding cosmopolitans. For ages, if you wished to dine outside, you would most likely visit a Dhaba, a roadside food stall, that would line the highways of the country or a tiffin centre, small restaurants who were less about the experience and more about getting food into your stomach. Since last few years, things have changed. Now there was a variety of places to eat, each had their own special cuisine. It was the same story for hangouts. A café, despite its age outside the country, was a relatively new concept here. A place specially for Chai or coffee? And you get a hundred varieties of them? This was unheard of.

Yet, it didn’t take long for them to catch on. One such place holds a special spot in Monica’s heart. Having found the place, along with an old friend, back in her college days, she would find herself often escaping to here whenever she felt like the world outside overwhelmed her. It was a decent sized establishment with enough space to house four tables and a set of chairs to go along with it. The place was run by an old couple, Vishvak and Nilima, who always had a smile on their faces whenever they saw Monica enter their little café. Vishvak would take care to put extra effort into making Monica her favourite cup of elaichi (cardamon) tea.

Today was no different. Despite having not met her for over a year, when Monica took the first sip of her tea, she felt herself pulled back in time. It tasted exactly as she remembered, and warmth of the tea filled her heart with joy. She had a wide smile on her face and Sam could almost see a tear form at the corner of her eye. ‘Feels like nothing has changed,’ Monica said as she put her cup down.

‘Nothing really has changed,’ Sam replied with a hint of sarcasm.

Her smile softened as her eyes began to wonder about. Sadness overwhelmed her as old memories began to return. ‘You didn’t have to say that,’ she said.

‘I am sorry. Should have been more considerate,’ Sam said.

‘I guess you haven’t really changed. Not a bit.’

‘You would like me to change?’

‘Maybe a bit. That would help me not cry like a little girl every time we go out.’

Sam snickered under his breath and said, ‘alright. I am sorry. Better to not make you cry on our last meeting.’

‘Don’t tell me you are not meeting me tomorrow?’ Monica asked, her lips twisted into a frown.

‘One before the last one. Still, how did you manage to get a job so quickly? It’s been only a week since you arrived.’

‘The ward I was assigned to turned out to be a good human being. She was pretty much responsible for most of what happened in the last few months.’

Sam found it fascinating and a little concerning. The first question that came to his mind on hearing it was, ‘does she know about your past?’

‘Whatever was on the official records.’

‘And nothing about your late-night endeavours?’

‘I don’t think so. She had been in contact with uncle, and I doubt he told her either. Still, I can’t believe I managed to get out with just one year.’

‘Everyone wanted you out. It was not your fault what happened that night.’

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‘How is it not my fault?’ Monica asked, her voice trembled.

‘Because, even with… superpowers, you cannot control everything.’

‘I guess… anyways. What is done is done. Time to start a fresh.’

‘Is that why you chose the job?’ Sam asked.

‘It was hard, but I had to do it.’

‘Your home still haunts you?’

‘It is home to so many memories. I will get over it eventually, but perhaps a positive break is needed.’

‘Not a bad idea.’ Sam paused as he took a sip from his cup of coffee before asking, ‘what about your other job?’

‘She is dead Sam and I killed her,’ Monica replied with a blank expression.

‘She can always comeback,’ Sam said.

‘You were always against the idea. So, why do you want to see her back?’ Monica asked. She looked at him curiously which made Sam smile involuntarily.

‘It is your choice. You will eventually come to a conclusion sooner or later.’

‘You sound very confident.’

‘Life as a way of giving us the answer when we don’t want it.’

Monica scoffed and replied, ‘you are right about that.’ She looked down at Sam’s satchel to see a corner of a newspaper sticking out. She reached out to it immediately as she asked, ‘you subscribed to a newspaper? News on your phone not enough?’

He saw her take the paper and unfold. ‘I flicked it from the hospital.’

Her hands trembled as she opened the paper. ‘I don’t know if I should be reading this now.’

‘Why? Afraid something might convince you to put on your costume?’ Sam asked.

‘Honestly… yes.’ She nervously glanced through the major headlines before sighing in relief as nothing of notice seemed to be happening in the country. However, it didn’t take long for her to find something of interest. In the corner of page five was the photograph of a person she had a vivid memory of.

Sam noticed her expression change and asked curiously, ‘found something eye catching?’

‘Renowned real estate tycoon gifts valuable land to its illegal occupiers,’ Monica said summarizing what she had read.

‘Wow!’ Sam exclaimed, ‘somebody actually did something good?’

‘I know him,’ Monica replied.

‘And how do you know him?’

‘Saved his ass a year ago. I wonder what happened to the assaulter?’ Monica wondered aloud.

‘The attacker is not in jail?’ Sam asked.

‘Didn’t think he deserved to. So, I let him go, like the businessman.’

‘Do you know their names?’

‘The businessman’s name was Bairav and the assaulter’s name was Kailash,’ Monica replied.

Sam pulled out his phone and began to click on it. ‘Could Kailash have looked like him?’ he said as he held up the phone for her to see.

Monica stared at a photo of two men, one of whom was Sam and the other was that of a tall, rugged man with balding head and gruff beard. Monica recognised him immediately. His sharp eyes and long nose didn’t go unnoticed. ‘Yes! Why are you in a photo with him?’ Monica asked, looking surprised.

‘He runs a hospital in the east part of the town.’

Monica knew what sat on the east side of this town. Large colony of low wage workers who had no access to welfare of any kind. She wondered what happened to the two of them since the time she was gone. ‘When did this happen?’

‘I think about a month after the riots,’ he replied.

The sound of the word, riot, made Monica visibly stutter. ‘Very sorry about that,’ Sam said immediately.

‘No. It’s alright. I should not let those events get to my head again,’ she replied.

‘And how is that going?’

‘You saw how I am doing, didn’t you?’

Sam twisted his lips as he saw anger in her eyes. ‘The town took some time to recover from that and during such a dire time, this man setup a hospital to treat those who suffered from the incidents. It is still there and working overtime.’

‘I wonder where he got that kind of money,’ Monica said.

Sam waited patiently for her to spill the tea on the incident, but it became clear she wasn’t going to do it without some prodding. ‘So, you going to tell me what happened? Or are you planning on leaving it to my imagination?’

‘Huh?’ Monica blurted involuntarily. ‘Oh sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts.’ She folded up the newspaper before dropping it back onto the table. ‘Can’t remember what day or date it was, but it sometime before the riots.’

***

The nights were getting colder by the day. Monsoon had just passed, and winter was coming soon. Cool wind flowed through her hair as leaped over from rooftop to rooftop. It kept her awake at a time when she would usually be deep asleep. She had been pulling all-nighters for quite some time. However, day after day she found little reason to do so anymore. Things were quieting down and there seemed to be relative peace in her little town. Every now and then she would hop over to the two neighbouring towns just to make her presence visible. On even rarer occasions she would visit the big city that connected to her town by a highway. Nobody could predict when or where she would appear. But anytime there was a problem, she was there. Criminals were terrified, frustrated, and furious. They tried many a times to set a trap for her, but she never came, it was like she always knew. Or at least that is the kind of image she had managed to build up.

No one, except those close to her, knew who she was. For most she was a mythical figure straight out of a bedtime story, for others she was a big thorn in their bottom. Whenever there was trouble, she would appear out of nowhere like a divine angel sent to the earth from the heavens. The angelic reference didn’t come out of the blue either. Her suit was mostly matte white with soft black accents. Standing a top of a tall building, like she does most of the time, she did indeed appear like a godly being watching over them. Her white mask covered much of her face, except for the mouth and lower jaw. Black accent encircled her eyes accentuating her calm yet frightening gaze. This is why many call her the Lady in White, a far cry from the name she had made up for herself.

Monica loved hearing stories of the brave. It filled her heart with joy and gave her aspirations to be just like one when she grew up. In her childhood she had even made up a name for her alter ego. She called herself Arora, a hero whose powers would “dazzle” her opponents. As she got older, her methods of dealing with the villains changed but the name stuck. She dazes her opponents now with her fists, but she found no reason to change the name. However, as a vigilante on the surface with a timid and reserved personality on the inside, she never managed to declare herself by that name. Thus, everyone simply referred to her as the Lady in White.

It looked like this was going to be yet another peaceful night where she would pretend to be the world’s most powerful watchman. That was in no way a bad thing. She always preferred to look over the peaceful town, looking down as if she was at least partly responsible for the peace. However, the peace did not last long. Arora heard the screeching of the brakes before the sound of metal scrapping against metal. The sound tore through her sensitive ears making her squeal in response. She looked to her left, in the direction of the sound, but her view was obstructed by the buildings in the vicinity. She wasted no time in jumping off the building and heading towards the direction of the sound.

The streets of the area were empty with not a soul in sight. This made her job very easy. She ran through the empty streets at breakneck speed, but her light footwork left pin drop silence in the path she left behind. The whole area had gone silent once again. She heard the faint sound of a roaring engine, making her take a sharp right turn. Navigating through the labyrinth of thin barely metalled road, she found herself in the middle of a market which had closed down for the night. She looked around to find relative peace once again until the sound of an engine filled the air around. A car appeared around the corner, making the turn at near full speed. She turned to her left and looked at the headlights that were facing her. A red sedan headed towards her at full speed. The man in the shotgun seat screamed out aloud, ‘run her over!’

Arora leaped out of the way seconds before they were about to hit her. She crashed into an open shed, breaking through its back wall and landing on the pathway behind. Rage consumed her for a brief moment as she slammed her fist into the ground, but she calmed down just as quickly. She got back on her feet before running over to the nearest building. With one single jump, she leaped over the two-story building, landing on its roof. She scanned the area below with her sharp eyes and spotted the car a few blocks away. Further ahead of it were another pair of headlights shining in the dark of the night. She did not waste any time as she jumped off the building, landing on a parked water tanker. The vehicles were about three blocks far and they were only getting further. It appeared as though the red sedan was chasing the vehicle in front of it. Both were travelling at breakneck speed and neither appeared to be slowing down anytime soon.

Arora stretched her legs for a brief second before leaping off the tanker with such force that it nearly tipped over the half a ton machine. She flew through the air and over the market that spanned an entire block. She landed at the entry of a narrow alleyway through which she ran at a lighting pace. She cut through the zig-zagging network of road by jumping over the one floor buildings. As she closed in, she landed in an intersection just after the red sedan zoomed past it. Arora wasted no time in picking up the pace and chasing after the sedan.

‘You saw that?’ asked the driver of the sedan.

‘Yeah, I did. Don’t stop. That bastard is right in front of us,’ said the man in the shotgun seat.

The driver looked into the rear-view mirror to see a white figure approaching them real fast. Sweat poured down his forehead and his throat closed in fear. ‘Arya, she is chasing us down!’

‘Don’t slow down!’ Arya repeated. ‘Speed up. Get close.’

The driver did as he was told. The sedan closed in on the car ahead of it but so did Arora. She jumped into the air, flying over the car. Arya popped out of the window and aimed his gun at the car in front. Locking onto the tire, he fired. A loud boom echoed through the dead air of the night, but the bullet missed. He fired again, this time hitting the tire right in the centre. However, before he could celebrate Arora slammed into the hood of the sedan, bringing it to a sudden stop. Both the driver and Arya were thrown into the air as the driver smashed through the windscreen while Arya flew out the window. Arora spun around swiftly, catching the driver and Arya in mid-air. She dragged them out and onto the ground where she gently put them down. The car in front careened off the road before coming to a stop in front of a row of apartments.

The two men rolled on the floor groaning in pain. ‘What the hell is your problem?’ asked Arya.

‘Tried to run me over. Did you forget that already?’ Arora replied in a seething voice.

‘You were in middle of the road, what did you expect?’ he replied.

Kneeling down, she grabbed him by his hair and stared coldly into his eyes, ‘is that why you told him to run me down?’

Arya didn’t reply, instead stared back at her with wide fear struck eyes.

‘Who were you chasing in the middle of the night?’ she asked calmly.