With respect comes fear.

****

Maya decided to visit the local Kali temple before beginning her investigation in full motion. Her blessings would provide a good start to the case. Mrinjay, the oldest son of the Das family, agreed to take her to the temple. He had summoned a rickshaw for them to reach the place.

Maya wore a simple linen saree in the colour of navy blue and white with little sequins sewn into the aanchal. Matching with it she chose to wear kundan earrings and shimmering silver bangles.

When Mrinjay first saw her approach him, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked straight out of a classic Bengali movie, a heroine of the day. A fire stirred inside him, but he didn't express his feelings. Instead, he just bowed slightly. "You look exquisitely beautiful."

Maya chuckled. "Thank you."

Mrinjay, with great restraint, swallowed down whatever threatened to spill. He gestured her to get on the rickshaw. "After you."

When both had climbed the rickshaw, Maya took to scanning the surroundings. Khatra was probably a little more populated than other villages– it was crammed with huts and there were plenty of grocery and tea shops. Tall trees kissed the sky, with handis being tied to date palms for collection of juice to make jaggery. Fluffy clouds like balls of cotton floated in the blue sky. The sun glowed like a dazzling white orb. Far away the green hills could be seen and the vast expanse of the forest at its feet.

When Maya felt the timing was right, she began a conversation. "Kalikacharan Babu told me that the temple was built by one of your ancestors, Rudrapratap Das."

Mrinjay nodded. "Yes. He was a big devotee of Kalika. Maybe he had received the order of constructing a temple dedicated to her glory in his dream. He was a benevolent man who donated a lot to temples and to the poor."

"Do you take forward the legacy?"

"Yes. I regularly provide funds to the temple. Not because it is a property of our family, but because I love Kalika as dearly as he did. We must do everything to keep the divinity alive and spread it among the youth."

"I love Kalika too. I have witnessed her magic and miracle in real life. I know she is here around me and everywhere."

Mrinjay raised a brow. The sun glared on his face and his moustache twitched. "I see... " It was a whisper as faint as the call of death. He heaved a sigh. "I am yet to feel her presence, but I believe she is here too."

A comfortable silence rested between the two. Maybe it didn't remain harmonious for long. The quietude pressed on Mrinjay's mind like the gong of destruction. Swamped by the increasing unease, he took to opening his lips. "You will find dancers in the temple too. They are devadasis, travelling the country and serving the various forms of Shakti in their lifetime."

"Amazing! I have never met a devadasi, so I look forward to meeting one."

Mrinjay beamed. "They are very pretty. Embodiments of grace. I personally love arts and culture. Dance and music delight me."

"Why not, you are a zamindar. You ought to be fanciful."

"I do have refined tastes."

Maya covered her mouth and laughed. Mrinjay turned a shade deeper of red. Blood gushed to his cheeks.

"Now, may I turn to more serious matter?" Maya's eyes twinkled. "After all, I am here for business."

Mrinjay averted his gaze. There was a foreign darkness looming in his cocoa-brown eyes. "I am ready."

"I need details of Abhinoy's dead body. The wounds, the place the body was found, and if anything puzzling was observed."

Mrinjay clenched his fist so hard that his knuckles turned white. "Everything about it was so strange, out of the world, like never seen before." Mrinjay blew a breath and began painting a sordid picture of the corpse. "The body was found in the forest. We don't know how or why he went there. It was very unnatural."

"It was at night, I presume?"

"We had seen him retire to his room at night and then the rest of us also went to sleep. It was a usual day and we didn't get the hint of any lurking danger. Perhaps he had gone out after we all fell asleep, but why, I have no answer to that." Mrinjay gulped. "You will have to find that out, Maya."

"That I will."

"The body was devoid of blood, almost. You must have noticed that we, the members of my family, are quite pale." He cleared his throat. "It is a genetic thing. But when I saw the body, he looked like death had possessed him. His face was distorted into such a perplexing contortion of muscles that clearly indicated he was afraid. Yes, fear was what he felt when the end came."

Maya saw an eerie flare in Mrinjay's eyes weaved out of fright and wrath. He appeared insipid and strength seemed to dwindle in his heart, but he stood in the face of the growing tide.

"There were... curious marks on his neck, unlike no wound on his body. His head was snapped and twisted. It hang helplessly from the rest of the body."

Goosebumps crawled on Maya's skin. "And how were those curious marks?" she asked, mustering the courage to venture deeper into the mystery of the murder.

Mrinjay stiffened. "Marks of teeth."

"From an animal?"

"Perhaps."

But an animal cannot do all which can be concluded from the description. "Anything else?"

"He had no heart in his body."

"What?" Did I hear it right?

Mrinjay leaned in closer and whispered in his husky voice. "He had no heart. Yes, you heard it right. It was scooped out of his body. His ribs were broken to take out the heart."

Maya clutched her aanchal. A plethora of unnerving thoughts spiralled inside her head. Someone had to have guts and enormous brutal force to carry out this gruesome of a murder. From what she felt, this was something ritualistic as the heart was involved and blood was drained out of the body.

Is the temple involved?

The rickshaw came to a halt. Mrinjay paid the fare and together with Maya headed for the temple.

The mandir was the colour of brick-red and rocks. It faced the east so that the light would always fall on the abode of the goddess. The emblems of dancers were carved on the pillars along with inscriptions in Sanskrit. There were exactly nine stairs to climb and it opened into a hall where celebrations were held. It was large enough to host fifty people and there was a floral alpana done in the middle using petals of marigold and powdered natural dyes. At the very end of the hall was the garbha griha. But Mrinjay didn't take Maya in that direction. Instead they crossed that and went behind. There was a pond nearby where ducks swum. A mandapa with closed walls awaited them.

"We are going in there. You will get to meet the dancers."

Music flowed to Maya's ears. The soothing tune of sitar and sarod, the very feminine and unique melody of the shehnai that went with the ambience of any Indian sanctified premise, the quirky and upbeat dholak and mridangam and the very ancient flute– every note and jingle resonated with the chords of Maya's heart. At the door she and Mrinjay were welcomed by two dancers. They escorted them in. The men and women inside joined their hands in a namaskara upon seeing the two. "Welcome, Mrinjay Babu."

The dancers were all dressed in red and golden and bedecked in jewels. They had decorated their hair buns with garlands of jasmine. One of the dancer came forward, the chime of her ghoongroo a mellifluous language of dance. She had a long braid reaching her hips and elongated eyes. She had a plump waist and appeared to be in her late twenties like Maya.

"How can we serve you, Babu?"

"I have a guest. Here, meet detective Maya."

Whispers, hushed and faint, escalated the tension in the crowd. The women especially shrank in fear. Maya's lips curved into a sly smile. "I am not here to pry into your lives. I am here to find the murderer. I guess you all know it."

"We do," the dancer said. "We are extremely sorry for the loss, Babu. You may pray to Mother Kalika for his soul to rest in peace."

"I will come and do a puja in his name after the ceremonial rituals are over. But today I brought Maya here for her to see the beauty of you all. Come on, entertain her!" Mrinjay brought out a little red pouch out of his pocket and handed it to the dancer. Her eyes flickered and she accepted the money.

Maya engaged in small talk with the dancers. She noted down two things– first, the women were afraid of her and second, Mrinjay offered money to the dancer. He was a patron of arts, perhaps, and the present Master of this temple. However, it looked a little distasteful.

Maya learnt about the previous journeys of the devadasis– the temples they worked in earlier, the forms of the goddesses they served, the dasha mahavidyas, their pilgrimages and a lot more. While talking her eyes fell on Mrinjay, who was going towards a corner of the mandapa. There Maya saw a girl sitting and making garlands. She was young and wore a cream coloured saree. She was focusing on her work, but when she noticed Mrinjay coming towards her a streak of horror struck her face. Her jaws clenched and she refused to look at the man. From the distance Maya couldn't hear what Mrinjay was telling her, but the girl looked irked and ready to burst at any moment.

"What are you looking at, Maya?"

Maya gasped when she felt a cold touch on her forearm. It was the dancer from before. She plastered on a smile on her face and looked at Maya with darkened eyes. "Something interests you?"

"What is your name?"

"Oh, but I asked the question first!"

Maya faked a smile. "But I am not answerable to you. Yet you all better not run away from me." Maya feigned to pull a fishnet towards herself. "I shall catch you all."

The dancer narrowed her eyes. "Ritabhari is my name."

"So, Ritabhari"–Maya crossed her arms–"are you the head of all the devadasis here?"

Ritabhari nodded. "Yes. And wait a moment." She turned back. "Mrinjay Babu!" she called. "Maya wants to know whom you were talking to."

Maya squinted her eyes. Where is this going?

Mrinjay's brows creased. He broke into a snigger. He patted the girl on her head and she resisted the urge to recoil. He came and joined Maya. "She is the daughter of our head priest. A sweet little girl, but very sharp-tongued. She got upset because I was disturbing her during work. She told me her father is now doing the puja, that's why the garbha griha is closed."

Maya had enough common sense to understand something was very wrong in whatever happened.

"And yes, I am the leader of all the devadasis here," Ritabhari said. Her eyes shone like a predator's pupils in the night. Like a huntress' fangs her toothy smile scratched Maya.

"It was good to meet you, Ritabhari. I hope to converse more with you in future."

"It's my pleasure, Maya."

Mrinjay and Maya took leave. Since the puja was not over yet, Maya couldn't see the idol of Kalika. As they stepped out of the temple, Maya saw doctor Raktim standing at the feet of the stairs, his hands joined in a prayer and lips murmuring a chant.

"Here to take the blessings of Kalika?" Mrinjay asked.

Raktim, even though taller than Mrinjay or any other man of the Das family for that matter, seemed to appear so small and insignificant. He bowed to the Babu and smiled amicably. "Yes. I was seeing a patient. Thought to give a visit here."

"Ah, I see. Let me introduce you to Maya. She is a famous detective from Calcutta."

Raktim greeted her. "Glad to meet you, Maya."

She too acted as if it was their first meeting, clearly enjoying what hidden motive could be behind this secrecy.

"So Raktim, come to my house in the evening once. Baba is feeling very sick these days. He needs a check up."

"I shall."

Mrinjay narrowed his eyes. Raktim corrected himself. "I will. I will come."

"I would be waiting for you. Maya, let us go."

Maya waved at Raktim. The man softly smiled at her, a delicate pink line drawn on his face. He then looked at the temple. He would wait till the gates of the garbha griha would open. Raktim wished to get the prasad of Maa and also talk with the head priest.

He was in dire need of the blessings of Shakti.