Fiction: A zamindar’s young bride is possessed by a she-demon while the great famine ravages Bengal

Benimadhabh was going to say something when he stopped. Rudrapratap followed his gaze. A small crowd had assembled a hundred yards in front of them, beside the unpaved village road they were walking on. From what they could tell, a man had been tied around a banyan tree with thick rope, and two men were punching and slapping him. Around them were gathered about twenty villagers cheering and laughing every time a blow landed on the man, egging the two men on, screaming “beat the bastard, beat him!” Rudrapratap picked up pace, holding the pleats of his dhoti, breaking into a jog and then a run, and as they got close, they could see the man clearly.

The man had long, unkempt hair, much of which now covered his face, matted with blood from the wounds on his head and face. His right arm hung at an angle, having been pulled out from its socket. Streams of blood were running down his emaciated chest and stomach, and his dirty and discoloured clothes lay at his feet. His assailants had stripped him naked, and he was bleeding from the groin, too.

“What’s going on here?” Rudrapratap asked and the authority in his voice made them...

Read more