[6]
Amaya reached at the inner part of the cave. There were four persons playing the music. She gave a look at them. There was a fire at one corner to lit up the cave and warm up too.
One man at the left corner was standing in front of a midsized key board. His fingers were playing the key board. He was in a black jeans and a wine red t shirt. He was looking around 25. He was playing with one hand and with movements of other hand, he was controlling the remaining three artists and the tune. It was looking that all instruments, all music and all artists were under his command and control. He was looking a leader of this musical troop.
On his right side, a short young man was sitting on the sand near to tiny rock and was playing a Tablas. He was little short, might be 5 feet 2 inches. He was nearly 22. He was with long hair on his head. He had tied hair with a hair band. His skin was white and flair. His fingers were long and beautiful, attractive too. There was a thin beard on her face. Every pat on tabla was echoing in the cave and was creating the music more melodious.
Left to that person, a young boy of around 20 was playing the guitar. He was tall man, may be more than 6 feet. He was in the sleeve less black t-shirt and a sky blue short jeans. He was playing the basic guitar. His fingers were running on the chord of the guitar while his eyes was running on the last member of the group.
That was a girl, a young girl, a beautiful young girl. She was the fourth and last member of the troop. She was the only girl in the group. She was around 5’3”, might be 19, slim, and very attractive. She was in Indian saree. The saree was light blue with colorful flowers printed on it. Her choli on her breast was pink matching with pink border of the saree. The long hem of the saree was on her right shoulder. Her left shoulder was open, her bosom was open. She was wearing necklace made of stones. She had long hair, untied. The hair was not waving as there was very little air in the cave. The light from the fire was reflecting on her face and hence her face was looking golden. Her eyes were closed. She was playing the flute.
Amaya looked at the flute. She surprised with shock. The flute was made of the metal, with 6 holes on it. There was a picture of a peacock on it after the last hole. It was 18 inches long. The color of metal was silver. Amaya glanced at her own flute, which was in her palm. She compared both the flutes. It was a miracle. Both the flutes were same. Exactly the same. There was no difference between them. It was like a reflection of each other. It was incredible.
She focused, again on that girl’s flute. It was producing a sweet tune. Her fingers were playing on all the holes and generating the melody. The tune was so beautiful that Amaya forgot everything and involved in the music. She liked that tune She wanted to save the tune forever. She unlocked her mobile camera, set it on movie mode and put it on a rock on the corner focusing on all of them. The camera was capturing the most beautiful moments, the most beautiful music.
She stood near the camera, with closed eyes, concentrating on the each and every notes, rising and falling. The rock, the sand and the walls of the rock was dancing on the tune. The wind was so obedient that it was still lying at one corner. The wind, the moments, the sea, the waves the rock, the cave, the sand, the time… everything was busy in listening the melody. Nothing was in hurry to move ahead. Everything was still and stable. The only thing moving was the fingers of the artists.
Amaya too, was composed. Her subconscious mind made up that she would play the same tune at the concert at Cairo. Each piece of rhythm was beautiful, matchless. She liked her own thoughts.
She dissolved herself, fully in the music. She was in deep meditation.
The voice of bullet shooting from the revolver breached the meditation of Amaya. She opened her eyes. She saw that a young man was at the entrance of the cave and was firing from his revolver at the music artists. One by one he killed all four. He looked around, luckily couldn’t found Amaya.
PI Rana entered in to the cave chasing that young man. He ordered to surrender that man. The man turned to PI Rana and fired on him. PI Rana also shot dead. He gave a glance at all five dead bodies, satisfied with his work and left the cave. Amaya kept standing in silence while all the drama happened. She remained in the same pose for many moments. She was frightened. She did not dare to move at all. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t as if the killer would be there, he could kill her too. She controlled her cry and remained calm.
She wanted to wait for the morning to arrive, but the morning was still at the distance. She gathered herself, decided to move out of the cave and report it to the nearest police station. She collected her mobile, which was still recording the moments. She stopped the recording. She checked the video recorded, watched it and satisfied that there is a sufficient evidence for reporting to the police station.
She picked up her flute. She did not touch anything there. She was, once, tempted to grab the flute of that girl, but she resisted and dropped that temptation. She looked her face in the front camera of mobile. She was looking like a jungle girl. She settled her hair, rubbed her eyes and cheeks, removed all particles of sand to clean her face and arms, rearranged her top and moved out of the cave.
The sky was still dark. She walked with vigil eye and looked around. No one was there. The sea was still alone, the beach was still in solitude, the waves were still touching the shore and merging in to the sea, the sand was cool and stable, the moonlight was still spread over the beach. Nothing was moved, nothing was changed outside of the cave. The only change was inside the cave, which was dangerous, which was cruel, which was brutal, which was unreasonable and unbelievable.
She sobbed, then cried and finally cried loudly. She cried continuously. She couldn’t stop crying. She collapsed on the sand. She was still crying. She went sleepy and went unconscious.
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