The Third Eye Read Free

looked at his starved face, stood up, and walked into the hut to rummage through the kitchen. She knew exactly where to look and hoped the cache was still there. Fear and hunger jostled inside her. Kali always kept some sweets in a glass jar on the topmost shelf in case her darling, overfed daughter, Layla, wanted a snack before a huge meal.
    Tara climbed onto the bottom shelf of the kitchen, stepped to the one above, and reached out for the jar on the top shelf. She inched it forward with her fingertips, her hands slippery with sweat. She knew they were already in trouble. But today was Diwali and tradition was to celebrate the start of the New Year with something sweet.
    As soon as her slippery fingers grasped the jar, she jumped down and opened it eagerly to examine the contents. Two small laddoos, sweets made of lentils and sugar, lay at the bottom.
Put it back, put it back
, said the small voice inside her. But the hunger was too strong. She ran out to Suraj, ignoring the voice.
    â€œHere you are, Suraj, Happy Diwali!” she said as she handed him one laddoo and took the other. They ate the laddoos and watched the fireworks, which had started up again. The laddoo tasted bitter to her and Tara regretted having stolen them. Suraj had already finished his so she handed him the rest of hers.
    â€œAre you sure, Didi?” he asked.
    â€œI’m sure,” she said.
    She put the empty jar beside her and gazed into the distance.
    Suraj snuggled up to Tara and she put her arm around him. She thought of this time last year, when they had also been part of the festivities. If she had only known of the sorrow awaiting them in the New Year, she would have cherished every minute spent with her mother instead of taking her presence for granted.
    Tara was jerked out of her reverie by two unpleasant incidents: an exploding firecracker, and a particularly hard slap on her face.
    â€œWha...?” said Tara as she shot to her feet, holding her hand to her stinging cheek.
    Suraj had fallen asleep with his head in Tara’s lap. He jumped up, too, his eyes wide with terror. Their stepmother, Kali, towered over them. Anger and hate twisted her face into an ugly mask. The little black eyes in her fat face looked like small raisins in an unusually large, uncooked, ball of dough.
    â€œHow
dare
you touch any food in the house without mypermission?” she yelled, eyeing the empty jar beside them. “I told you I would be back to give you a meal, didn’t I?”
    Tara’s heart sank.
I told you not to steal the laddoos
, said the small voice inside her.
    â€œI’m sorry, Mother,” she said in a soft, pleading tone, hating herself for not standing up to Kali.
    She looked up in mute appeal at her father, standing silently behind Kali, who was still berating them. Red spittle from the paan Kali was chewing flecked Tara’s face. Her father brushed past her and entered the hut without saying a word.
    â€œGo to bed, both of you. NOW! ” said Kali. “You have been very bad children, stealing your poor sister’s sweets.”
    As if on cue their stepsister, Layla, peeked out from behind her mother’s ample body, stuck out her tongue at them, and ran inside.
    â€œBut I’m so hungry,” said Suraj, tears filling his eyes.
    â€œYou should have thought of that before stealing in your own home,” snapped Kali.
    Tara knew she was responsible for this. If she had amused Suraj somehow till Kali came back ...
    She cringed inside as the tears cascaded down Suraj’s cheeks. Gently, she steered him into the hut and made for a corner of their two-room mud hut to make their bed for the night. She unrolled a thin, straw mat on the floor and curled up on it with Suraj. Shaking out a torn, threadbare sheet, she covered them both and closed her eyes to block out Kali’s malevolent stare, which followedtheir every move. Finally, her stepmother moved away into the kitchen to prepare the