Sagarika

“It is time the world knows what is happening in Kashmir,” he continued, his tone sharpening slightly. “We are tired of starvation. Children are denied education beyond the age of fourteen. Of being condemned to a life of poverty and degradation.”

The conviction in his voice was undeniable—but it did nothing to ease the tightening grip of fear inside me.

“Taking us hostage won’t change anything,” Siddh replied, his voice steady, controlled. “But if you release us now, unharmed, I can make sure your voice is heard. You’ll get the attention you want without this.”

No one moved.

No one spoke. No one even seemed to breathe.

By the time the militant leader turned back toward us, something in the air had already shifted.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a tightening of control, a quiet consolidation of power that made it clear the discussion among them had not been as simple as it had first seemed.

His gaze settled on Siddh with a new kind of attention now, one that was sharper, more deliberate, as though he were reassessing not just the suggestion that had been made, but the man who had made it.

“Well,” he said slowly, the word stretching just enough to make every heartbeat feel louder than it should have, “you are either very brave… or very foolish.”

I could feel the tension pressing against my skin, thick and suffocating, as though the forest itself had closed in around us.

My eyes remained fixed on Siddh, searching his face for some sign—fear, hesitation, doubt—but there was none. He stood exactly as he had before, composed, steady, his expression unreadable in a way that made it impossible to tell whether he had anticipated this reaction or was prepared to face it.

The leader took a step closer.

Every pair of eyes turned toward him, drawn to that calm, to the quiet authority in his tone, as though it was the only stable thing left in a moment that had spiraled completely out of control.

I glanced around instinctively, searching for the guide—

But he was gone.

The realization hit hard, sending a fresh wave of dread through me.

He brought us here deliberately?? Is that why he was ready to go back though we all wanted to. Siddh even told him to take us back but...

Oh God!

Mrs. Chawla clung tightly to her husband’s arm, her face pale and strained with fear. The honeymoon couple stood locked together, trembling, while the other women moved closer to their husbands without thinking, seeking comfort, protection—

And I stood there alone.

A sudden, aching thought rose unbidden.

Dad… Chachu… Shlok bhai… Shaurya bhai…

If only one of them were here.

The leader sneered, cutting through the silence, “You want us to let all of you go as per your request, and then we would be imprisoned alongside our comrades. No, my friend… we need you far too much for that.”

His gaze moved over us slowly, deliberately.

“Come. We have four hours ahead of us. By the time your hotel realizes you are missing, it will already be too late. Very few people know this forest as well as we do.”

Beside me, one of the girls swayed, her face drained of all color as she leaned weakly toward her husband.

“Oh God…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What are we going to do?”

Her words seemed to break something in the air.

Fear spread instantly, no longer contained—voices rising, breaths quickening, panic taking hold in a way that could not be controlled once it had begun.

My hands trembled despite the oppressive heat, a cold shiver running through me as reality settled in with brutal clarity.

Everyone was beginning to lose control.

Everyone—

Except Siddh.

"Trust me you are not going to get what you want like this." He repeated it with such calmness.

“You suggest we release all of you,” he continued, his tone measured, “and trust that you will tell our story to the world...”

There was a faint edge of mockery beneath the calm.

“And in exchange,” he added, his gaze narrowing slightly, “we keep only one.”

My pulse quickened. Siddh did not look at me, but I already knew.

“You need leverage,” he said evenly. “One hostage is enough if the message is strong enough. Keeping all of us only slows you down and increases your risk.”

The leader studied him for a long moment, as though weighing not just the logic of his words but the certainty with which they were delivered.

“And you believe the government will listen to you?” he asked.

“I know they will,” Siddh replied without hesitation.

The quiet confidence in his voice did something to the atmosphere, cutting through the fear that had been steadily building. It was not reassurance—not entirely—but it was enough to hold the group together, enough to keep panic from spilling over completely.

For a moment, I almost believed it would work.

Almost.

The leader exhaled slowly, then glanced back at his men. Another brief exchange followed, their voices low and quick, their expressions unreadable from where we stood. One of them shook his head slightly, another gave a short, dismissive shrug, but none of them seemed entirely certain.

That uncertainty settled heavily in my chest.

Because uncertainty could go either way.

When the leader turned back again, his decision had already been made.

“No,” he said simply.

The word landed like a blow.

A murmur rippled through the group, fear rising again, sharper this time, less contained. I felt my stomach drop, a hollow, sinking sensation replacing the fragile hope that had flickered to life just moments ago.

“We do not take chances,” he continued. “Not with something this important.”

“Oh, c'mon, you cannot expect them all to keep up with your pace, you want all of them to follow you? Trust me they have taken so much time coming to this point... I was frustrated. It will slow you down and then you will have to feed all of them and we know how difficult it is to carry the provisions to that altitude for so many people,” he said calmly, as though they were discussing something far less dangerous than the situation we were in.

“If you intend to keep us alive, you will have to make allowances. Dead hostages are of no use to you.” he reminded again.

The leader frowned slightly, considering his words.

“We cannot afford to waste time.”

“And you cannot afford to take risks with our lives,” Siddh replied without raising his voice, the quiet certainty in his tone far more persuasive than aggression would have been.

There was a pause. A subtle shift.

And then Siddh spoke again.

“Wouldn’t it be simpler to take just one of us?” he suggested, his voice almost casual. “Release the others. In return, we ensure that your story reaches every major newspaper. Your cause would receive far more attention that way than it would through a situation the government will try to suppress.”

My heart stopped, I understood immediately what he was doing.

And more importantly— What he intended.

If they agreed, there was no question about it. He would be the one to stay.

My fingers curled tightly into my palms as the militant leader turned away, speaking in low tones with his men. Their words were indistinct, but the weight of the decision they were making pressed heavily against the silence that followed.

Time stretched painfully.

Every second felt longer than the last. I couldn’t look away.

Couldn’t think beyond the single, terrifying possibility forming with growing certainty in my mind.

After what felt like an eternity, the leader turned back.

His gaze settled directly on Siddh, sharp and measuring, as though reassessing him entirely.