I ducked as the bike passed under a low branch, and steered it from the earthen road into the thin slice of unattended ground, making the bike vibrate like a launch engine and throw up dirt. A feet to the right was a three feet drop into the mud of the Paddy field.

I glanced at the rearview mirror. The microbus, dark as beetle, was still there, following me steadily. It made no effort for stealth. Whoever followed me, wanted me to know that I'm being followed.

Or show someone else, perhaps.

I steered left and into the middle of the road and honked my horn. Then I turned to look back.

Three seconds later, the microbus honked back.

They recognize that I have noticed them. That could mean either they mean no harm, or they mean no harm, but they wish to threaten me.

Safe to assume the latter.

Always safe to assume the latter.

I came back down to the left, slowing down and turning on the suspension- much to the glee of my tortured arse.

The micro caught up, a veil of dirt tailing it. It slowed as it passed, as if making a statement. There was no scent to it, as cars often do. Only the dust in the air.

I hit the hind break and slowed to a stop as I saw it speed away on the country road, shaking it's part.

I killed the engine and stood there, taking everything in for a minute.

Afternoon bathed the golden paddy in red. The grain sang in their shells as the northern wind rustled through them. The sweet, grainy smell of ripe paddy wafted in the air.

I took a breath in.
I let a breath out.

I took a breath in.
I let a breath out.

Why can't I sleep now?

I reached home about fifteen minutes after evening. The Azaan was long gone by then. I don't pray myself, but there was something about an Azaan that shook and trembled something in the pit of my lungs.

I stopped before the closed gate and sounded my horn.

No one came.

I rolled my eyes. A lot of us don't pray. A lot of us pray for too long.

I waited a few more seconds, and then sounded my horn again. This time, our caretaker hurried out, his old carbine swung behind his back.

"Young M-master," he stuttered, "Master Sardar told us not to let you in."

I would've been surprised if at any other time, but right then, I just didn't have the energy to be so.

"Why?" I asked as I began to turn the bike, wondering where to go to lay down a bit.

"The- the Mistress is attending the party," he pulled his gun strap closer to his chest, "Sardar Sahib told us not to let you in."

I paused for a moment.

It made sense; father's hurry to Marry Shalik off. How he's adamant about my own wedding being much later. Why he sent me off on this particular day.

All for that... That... madwoman.

"Don't worry about my father, Chacha," I started the engine, "Worry about your own future."

Hoping that my comment was cryptic and threatening enough for him to have a bad time about it, I turned away and rode out into the road.

I stopped a hundred meters away and brought out my phone.

Bilu's name was fairly up on my contact list, in contribution of the first letter of her name.

The phone rang five times before she picked it up.

"E - "

"They're not letting me into the house," I cut her off, "Where to meet?"

There was silence on the other end.

"Behind Kolpona furniture," she replied, "When can you get there?"

"Fifteen minutes," I replied, and cut off.

Twenty minutes later, I was pulling up near a shuttered down furniture shop. Evening had fallen rather quickly, the sky a dark indigo, peeking from behind the dark canopy of.the jackfruit tree. A single lamp shone relentlessly from on top of the shutter, throwing an oblique light to the half finished furniture outside of the shop; all of them too heavy to be stolen. The air was heavy with varnish. The only sound was of the crickets and the engine of my bike.

I killed the engine, and got off the bike. The ground was littered with wood chips and coated by a thin layer of sawdust.

The shadows of the furniture were calm as I waded across them, towards the right corner of the shop. They had bothered with appearance enough to paint the front of the shop regularly. The sides, however, didn't get such care. The walls were moldy and it stank of piss. I could hear every pebble and broken piece of brick I stepped on.

I came out in the backyard; a narrow width of land between the hind wall and a pond, infested with weed, overgrown with grass and lit only by the yellow light of a filament bulb hanging from the branch of a fig tree.

Bilu stood there, leaning against the wall.

She saw me, and stood up, raising her hand to wave.

I walked forward to slap her in the face.

Or at least tried to.

I slapped air, and saw that Bilu was standing just out of reach. I grabbed for her again, and, again, came up with air.

"Listen," Bilu grabbed my wrist.

"Nope," I grabbed her wrist, but she twisted her arm and was free in a breath. She stepped on a shrub, partially flattening it.

"We need to talk," she said again, not even breathing hard, "It's important."

I went for her neck, but she rolled to the right, and was suddenly behind me.

"Someone else is spreading influence in the slums, Rashed," she spoke from behind me, "someone big."

Then I felt her right arm reaching up from under mine, to meet her left arm as it came down from over my shoulder. They gripped with a slight clinch.

She pulled, and I fell.

I heard a faint "oomph" as we hit the ground, she underneath me. I tried to squirm, thinking I had the higher position, but then both her legs wrapped around my waist from behind.

And then I couldn't move.

"We can play this all day, Rashed," She said, mouth beside me ear and breath hot on my cheek, "but right now, we need to talk."

I stayed quiet for a bit, feeling my blood flow getting slowly obstructed by Bilu's arm around my neck. I moved my hands around, trying reach her body or face, but, despite her being literally pressed against my body, I only grabbed air. The crickets stopped singing as a gust of wind shook the dangling light bulb. Then they started again. The water gurgled as a fish splashed in the pond, a few feet above my head.

"I want to slap you one time," I finally said, "Just one time. Then we can talk."

Bilu sighed, "if that's what it takes to take things faster."

She let go, and I stood up. She looked at me for a second, with a tired expression that made me want to kick her in the face. Then she stood up too.

She dusted herself, and said, "Well, one good thing out of this is I don't feel cold anymore. Good warmup."

For the first time, I took notice of what she wore. A sleeveless red embroidered blouse that left an inch of midriff exposed and a blue skirt that came down to midcalf. Fashionable in a ceremony of some sort, bu definitely not the best clothing for a cold night outside.

"Slap," said I.

"Fine," she closed her eyes and put her hands to her ears.

And she stood there.

Right in front of the water.

I smiled. How could I pass this up?

I stepped forward towards her, and with all my strength, shoved at her chest.

For a second, my hand simply sank in. Then Bilu fell away.

Her eyes flung open, and panicking, she tried to grab for my hand, but grabbed nothing instead. She fell into the water like a severed banana tree, making a bigger splash than she should've.

I laughed. I laughed in utter and pure joy. I pointed at her. And I laughed like a bitch.

"Fucking hell!" She tried to jump on her feet, but toppled as her feet sank into the mud under one feet of water, "Of all the childish fucking things!"

She managed to stand, somehow. Dripping water, and arms covered in mud, she spat in the water, and looked at me; past me.

"I'm gonna kill you," she made a statement.

I choked but kept laughing.

"You don't know how hard I'm trying not to kill you right now," She began to make her way towards the bank.

"Oh yeah?" I sneered, "Getting injured and abandoned in a extremely inconvenient situation? I wouldn't know how that feels."

Bilu paused, one foot on the ground and the other in water. She looked at me, and then she sighed.

"I need to go home," she said, getting fully out of the pond, "I need to change. We'll talk later."

Now I stopped laughing.

As much fun as I was having, I had also come here expecting explanations, and information.

And it seemed I pushed my friend a bit too far for both of those.

"Hey, hold up," I tried to get infront of Bilu, but far enough out of her reach.

"I need to get home, Rashed."

"Hey, come on, Bilu. You're gonna let it get between professionalism?" I back off as she walked.

"Move, Rashed."

"I mean, I went to far, yes, but honestly - "

"This isn't about you!" She snapped. We met eyes.

Then she looked down, "I'm cold."

"I - " I looked over my shoulder, "Wait."

Bilu shook her head, "I need to get home."

"I'll be back in a sec," I said, backing towards the alley to the front of the shop, "trust me?"

"Trust you?" Bilu smirked, "Bitch you literally betrayed me less than five minutes ago."

I didn't have an answer for that, so I just smiled weakly and bounded away.

However, I did find Bilu standing there clutching herself as I pulled my bike into the little backyard. She raised her eyebrows as I came in.

I pulled it to the center of the area and started the bike. It began to growl, it's hundred and eighty cc engine shuddering as it woke. It wasn't too loud, though. I paid some heavy money to make sure it wasn't too loud.

I settled the bike in its stand, and pointed towards the mouth of the exhaust, where colorless smoke shot out of (filtered, also a thing I paid for).

"Sit there," I told Bilu.

Bilu narrowed her eyes at me, but proceeded to crouch down near the smoke and put her hands towards the smoke. She had washed her arms while I was gone. Though, her dress was beyond saving.

A few seconds passed. The crickets, which had silenced when my bike started, began to sing again.

"Someone is trying to spread influence into our area," Bilu spoke, "My eyes in the slums are talking about this new group that's hiring people to do odd stuff like clogging up alleys with tires or stand around in crossroads."

"They look like they have money?" I asked.

"Yeah, but no," Bilu rubbed her hand, "They don't pay with money. They pay with food and clothes."

I turned to look at her, "that's odd."

"Yeah," Bilu nodded, "And they're influencing local politics, subtly."

"So," I leaned on my bike, "how does all this connect to me getting beat up?"

"I established Vorapukuria as a place where someone can beat you up," Bilu shifted her weight, "That means it's disobedient to your dad."

"It's a bait," I mused.

"Half of one," Bilu corrected, "if they concentrate their influence there, now, we know for sure they're here to compete. But if they don't, we don't know for sure that they aren't. They might just have other plans."

I nodded. It made better sense now. But...

"Did you see the microbus that followed me?"

Bilu nodded, "yeah."

"Think that's them?"

She nodded again, rubbing her hands again, "Probably."

"They weren't trying to hide themselves," I added.

"They were trying to show up and they succeeded," Bilu pulled her hands back and pushed her toes forward, "I still have no idea why. That's why I want to plant a spy."

"A spy?" That was a surprise.

"Yeah. Someone who will seem inconsequential but will hear everything," Bilu said, "and I need your help."

"You want me to be the spy?" I asked, downright shocked.

"Hell no!" Bilu shook her head furiously, "I just need some info on what your dad will do next, so that my real spy can trade that information for trust and stuff."

"Oh," to my disdain, I found myself getting little disappointed, "I can manage that."

"We need communicate regularly, and we can't do it by phone," Bilu continued, "Or meeting up, because that'd look suspicious."

"Through Reshma?" I asked, "I mean, she's got reason enough to meet up with you."

Bilu thought silently for a moment, then wrapped her fingers together, "I don't wanna drag her into this. She... Isn't like that."

"We might need her help," I wrapped my hands around myself. I was starting to feel a little of the chill as well.

"I don't know how much she can help," Bilu looked up at me.

"We should at least ask her."

Bilu kept looking at me, as if searching for something.

Then she looked away, "Yeah, I guess."

We stayed in weighing silence for almost two minutes.

"Look," I tried again, "I'm sorry."

"About pushing me into the water? Isn't gonna work," Bilu smirked, "I will kill you."

"Not that," I waved it off, "About Reshma."

"Oh," Bilu lowered her face to stare at the ground.

"I know I'm doing more or less the same thing as the DC guy did," I continued, "But it's also the best way to help her."

"I know," Bilu pulled a strand of wet hair behind her ear, "Just..." She trailed off.

I waited.

"Just," Bilu looked up, wiping her eyes and meeting them with mine, "Treat her well, okay?"

I nodded, "yeah."

A breeze blew away, making the bulb overhead dangle and cast shifting shadows across the ground. Somewhere in the shrubs, a gecko called.

Bilu looked up, creasing her eyebrows, "I'm gonna go home now, I need to reappear in your sister's wedding."

Then she paused, "You sure you don't want me to sneak you in?"

"No thanks," I sat up on my bike, killing the engine and saving my petrol, "I'd rather not see her like that."

"Sure," she sat up to turn towards the alley, but paused.

"Oh and yeah," she turned to look at me, "I brought you dinner, but you're gonna have to look for it. Bye."