Rise

by Cheenu Tiwari

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“It’s time.” The jailor, Mr. Bingley, is at the door, standing with two guards. He is new. I can see the hesitation in his voice, the way he has his hands awkwardly at his sides, one hand gripping his stick.

I smile as I stand, carefully placing the book down on the bench. My duty was fulfilled long ago, and now--now I am just going through the motions.

The two guards quickly cuff my hands once I reach the door. Mr. Bingley watches their work, carefully peering over their shoulders as the shackles snap into place. Then, without a word, we start walking down the hall, with me in the front.

A thought strikes my mind, and I turn to the jailor. “Our Qur’an has references to your Bible, Mr. Bingley. Isn’t it ironic? We are the world apart--but this world is not that large.”

He keeps his head facing straight, and does not respond. But for a split second, I see his neck rise as he swallows.

There is a commotion ahead of us, just beyond a door with thick bars. We pass through, and on both sides, there are prisoners pressing against their cell doors, pointing at me, clamouring.

“Ashfaq bhai! Jai ho!”

“Ashfaq zindabad!”

Their cries reach me. For a second, I lose my composure, and nod to them, as my eyes water.

My comrades, do you know what lies beyond that door? That steel door on the other end?

Not death, but honor. Those who walk through there become immortal.

Will you join me in eternal life?

We stop at one of the cells. The guards open the door, and a tall man with a thin face walks out. Ajay. As they cuff his hands, he smirks at me, and gives a short laugh. “They’re taking you, too? Who would’ve known?”

“Have you read the verse?” I ask, as he comes beside me.

Ajay nods, his face growing serious. As we continue on past the other prisoners, he says, “You know what you said last week? About how it felt to read my Gita? I think I felt that myself, while reading your Qur’an.”

“Shut up!” says Mr. Bingley, prodding us both with his stick as we stop before the great steel door.

From the outside, two guards push the door in. The sunlight blinds my eyes, as the other prisoners’ calls become more urgent. As we step outside, I close my eyes, drowning in their wishes and hopes.

And then the steel door slams shut behind us. Just like that, there is no more noise, no more comrades. It is just the two of us now, taking the final journey. Only those who are worthy can go down this path; there are no spectators.

At the center of the walled courtyard, there are two gallows waiting for us, and two executioners. This is the stage on which our final act will be displayed. The local army officer, sporting a heavy handlebar mustache, is sitting nearby, listening to his radio set while his foot taps the ground. The radio is chattering continuously, and amidst the crackling I hear some snippets of English.

“...gathering in the square…thick crowd…bloody coolies…”

The officer’s forehead is sweaty, and his eyes are distant, fixed on the far wall of the courtyard. As I watch, while the executioners prepare the nooses, his hand unconsciously drifts to the rifle leaning against his chair. Is it just me, or can I hear chanting off in the distance?

Something pokes my back, and I walk forward, lost in thought. Yes, I can hear it. A cool breeze is wafting their voices in our direction. It is music to my ears.

We have done it. Where others live to fight on, we have chosen death. Those of you who have survived: will you be ready when the day comes? Will you offer your soul on that day? We will be waiting, and watching. If that day comes for you to give yourself for the final battle, it is because we did so long before.

“Ashfaq!” Ajay’s call breaks my trance. I look towards him, as he stands at the foot of his platform, and he says, “Allahu Akbar!”

“Har Har Mahadev!” I call back. His eyes lock onto mine, and we gaze into each other’s souls, seeing the way only those chosen for death can see. No one else matters anymore. It is just us now.

Without another word, without another gesture, we look away. We have been comrades for years, but now, our paths split. This is as far as we go. He is dead to me, and I am dead to him, until we see each other again.

I step up onto the platform, and nod as the executioner raises a hood towards me. He puts it over my head, and wraps the noose around my neck. Now I stand in darkness, in the antechamber of what lies beyond life, with only the noises around me keeping me from marching forward.

I close my eyes, listening to the distant protest. Mother, are you there in the crowd? Who carried you here, I wonder?

Father, are you watching down on me?

Sister, are your tears dripping onto your husband’s shoulder?

Professor, do you remember the name of the young student from Colonial India, who dared to speak out in your class? Are you listening to the news from your office at Oxford?

After all these years, after all this time, I have come to understand what it takes to accomplish the impossible--to move mountains and lift up oceans, to capture the moon and tame the sun, to defy the gods and silence the naysayers. It is sacrifice: life after life given to a cause, to bring it to fruition.

The naysayers will smother ideals with the gag of “reality.” And only those willing to give their lives can destroy them, and show the world what the true reality is. That is why we will win. Because for one Ashfaq and one Ajay there are millions more behind us, begging for the lustful kiss of the noose to fulfill their ideals.

The voices of the crowd, chanting for freedom--that is the reality. The revolution spreading across the nation--that is the reality. And the executioner’s hand coming down on the handle--that is the sacrifice. That is what was needed to make our vision come true.

God, send Gabriel to take me, and Ganesh to take Ajay. Let the words of Muhammad fill my ears, and the verses of Krishna fill Ajay’s.

The platform falls away.

Critique

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This piece grew more and more on me the further into it I read. The end was absolutely breathtaking—all of the build-up to a perfectly simple final sentence. I want to get into all of that later, but we’re going to start with the not-as-fun part.

There are a few key things I’d love for you to keep an eye on, not only as you edit this piece but in your future writing. They’re not major—most of them are actually quite small—but they’ll make a monumental difference in your prose. You only did each of these things a few times, so it’s not bad at all. Just some food for thought for the future!

1. Tighten up those sentences! You have a few unnecessary words sprinkled here and there. For example: “…the way he has his hands awkwardly at his sides” in the first paragraph. This can be rephrased “…his hands dangling awkwardly at his sides”. A few other places I noticed this:

— “…carefully placing the book down on the bench”. You can delete “down”.

— “I step up onto the platform…” You can delete “up”.

Here’s some places where rewriting the entire sentence can cinch in that wording:

— “Then, without a word, we start walking down the hall, with me in the front” could be “They push me in front of them as we clamber down the hall.”

— “‘Shut up!” says Mr. Bingley…” can be “‘Shut up!’ Mr. Bingley prods us with his stick so we stop before the great steel door.”

Sometimes it’s also just a matter of deleting phrases that are unnecessary, ex: “A thought strikes my mind…”, “for a split second”, etc. These are often just filler words that we write as we’re processing what we want to say next. They’re usually actually unnecessary.

2. Watch your use of the present progressive! I’m so guilty of this, so maybe that makes me a little more alert to it. Oftentimes people will write “is” + a gerund, which can clog up the writing when it really isn’t necessary! Here’s a few examples in your story:

— “The radio is chattering continuously…” can just be “The radio chatters continuously…”

— “A cool breeze is wafting their voices…” can just be “A cool breeze wafts…”

On a similar note: you do this a time or two with “there are”. For example:

— “There are prisoners pressing…” could be “Prisoners press…”

— “There are two gallows waiting…” could be “Two gallows wait…”

3. Adverbs! Sometimes they really help our writing come to life. Sometimes they can be replaced by an even better verb. For example:

— “Mr. Bingley watches their work, carefully peering over their shoulders…” “Peering” works just fine here to get across your point. Or you could try a more vivid synonym which might require rephrasing the whole sentence: “Mr. Bingley scrutinizes [inspects, examines, etc] them are they snap my shackles into place.”

— “The two guards quickly cuff my hands…” “Quickly” isn’t necessary here, and I don’t think you even need a substitute.

4. Sensory words. You're hardly ever guilty of this—it’s just something I wanted to bring to your attention! We’re already in your main character’s head—you don’t need to say “I can see” or “I can hear” unless it’s debatable whether or not they can hear it (for example, when your MC is wondering about hearing chanting). If you’re narrator is sure they can hear/see/smell/whatever it, then we can, too.

— “I can see the hesitation in his voice…” could be “His voice wavers” or even simply “There’s hesitation in his voice…”

— “I can see his neck rise” can be “His neck rises as he swallows.” (I love this added detail, by the way!)

5. Last but not least: your descriptions are so often on point. I found one spot of “show, don’t tell” (cliché, I know) where you can beef up your descriptions even more.

— “Ajay nods, his face growing serious.” What does Ajay look like? Do his dark eyebrows draw inward? Do his lips pucker into a frown? How can your MC tell his face is growing serious?

The meat of your story is there. You have an intriguing, beautiful concept and you execute it well. Those are just some tidbits to keep in mind moving forward. And now onto the fun! Your action descriptions are good, but it’s clear that your more internalized description is where the magic happens. As I read further into the story I got more and more excited, until every single sentence was like a little “yes!!” bell in my head. I could feel you getting more and more comfortable in the world of your story, and as a reader it made me sink further into that world, too. The climax and simultaneous close of the story were perfectly timed. Poignant perfection. Here’s some particular phrases that stood out to me:

1. Your description of the local army officer was fantastic. That’s some major showing. His “heavy handlebar mustache” formed a perfect image in my mind’s eye.

2. “His eyes lock onto mine, and we gaze into each other’s souls…” Chills.

3. “He is dead to me, and I am dead to him, until we see each other again.” This speaks volumes about your main character as a person, and their perspective on the world. It’s beautiful.

4. “Professor, do you remember the name…” This is my favorite sentence in the story. It’s such a tiny detail, but it adds so much. Suddenly I have a whole backstory and personality for our main character.

5. Everything after this basically ran together into one giant lump of fantastic, but one last image stood out to me in particular: “the lustful kiss of the noose.” Absolutely delicious description.

I know this was a lot. This story has so much potential that I wanted to point out some small changes that can really go a long way. You clearly know what you’re doing when it comes to writing. Thank you so much for sharing!