The cold sand of the Seti River, a short story
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| Photo: Edwin Mijares |
Preeti avoided the guard’s watchful gaze and quietly slipped past the tightly stretched barbed-wire fence behind Pokhara Stadium. The area had been declared off-limits after the devastating earthquake of April 2015 left deep fissures along the banks of the Seti River—fissures that had already claimed the lives of many domestic animals. To prevent further tragedies, authorities had erected a strong fence around the most dangerous sections.
Carefully making her way through tall grass and treacherous cracks in the ground, Preeti climbed onto a large boulder overlooking the river. From there, she had a clear view of the Seti far below, where foaming white water rushed through a narrow rocky gorge.
She glanced around to ensure no one had seen her. The
dense bushes and towering grass concealed her from passersby near the stadium.
Satisfied that she was alone, she sat on the boulder and stared at the rushing
water with vacant eyes.
Preeti was only twenty-four years old. In two days, she would have celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday.
But she knew she would never live to see it.
She wanted nothing more than a few moments of peace before ending her life. Though she had always been afraid of heights, the terrifying cliff above the Seti River no longer inspired fear. She sat calmly at the edge of the precipice, as relaxed as if she were sitting on the balcony of her own home.
Lost in thought, Preeti drifted into memories of the life she had once known—a life filled with promise, happiness, and dreams.
She was the youngest child in her family and the only
daughter. Her two elder brothers served in the British Army, while her father, a
retired major from the Indian Army, enjoyed a comfortable retirement in
Pokhara. The family was financially secure, and as the youngest child, Preeti
received endless affection from everyone around her. Whatever she desired was
rarely denied.
From an early age, she dreamed of becoming a doctor. Her father and brothers wholeheartedly supported that ambition. Money was never an obstacle, and they ensured she received the best education available.
After graduating from high school with excellent grades, Preeti earned admission to a medical college in Bengaluru, India.
On the day of her departure, her parents accompanied her
to Tribhuvan International Airport. With tears in their eyes, they embraced
their only daughter and watched as she boarded the aircraft that would carry
her toward the future she had always imagined.
For the first time in her life, Preeti found herself far from home in a completely unfamiliar environment. The freedom exhilarated her. She viewed college life as an opportunity to discover herself and experience the world on her own terms.
Beautiful, friendly, and outgoing, she attracted people wherever she went. Students eagerly sought her friendship, and she welcomed everyone without prejudice. She had always approached life with optimism and enthusiasm, and she intended to enjoy every moment of her newfound independence.
The excitement of a new city soon swept Preeti into a world unlike anything she had experienced before.
Bengaluru was vibrant, fast-paced, and endlessly alive. Students from every corner of India—and beyond—filled the campus with a rich mix of languages, cultures, and ideas. For someone who had spent most of her life under the protective gaze of her family, the city felt both overwhelming and exhilarating.
Preeti embraced her new surroundings wholeheartedly.
Her warm personality and natural charm made her popular among her classmates. She enjoyed meeting new people and rarely judged anyone based on appearance, background, or reputation. To her, friendship was something to be offered freely rather than earned through suspicion.
Unfortunately, not everyone shared her sincerity.
As the months passed, a few of her friends began to worry about her trusting nature. They noticed that she often spent time with students whose reputations were far from admirable. While most people kept their distance from certain groups on campus, Preeti seemed completely unaware of the risks.
One afternoon, after class, a senior medical student
named Kalpana approached her.
"Preeti, may I talk to you for a moment?" she
asked.
"Of course," Preeti replied with a smile.
Kalpana hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
"I hope you won't misunderstand what I'm about to
say. I've been watching you for some time, and I think you're a genuinely kind
person. That's why I feel obligated to warn you."
Preeti's smile faded slightly.
"Warn me about what?"
"Some of the boys you've been spending time
with."
Preeti raised an eyebrow.
"What about them?"
"They don't have the best reputation," Kalpana said quietly. "I've been in this college long enough to know the difference between decent people and those who create trouble wherever they go. You seem very close to a few individuals who have caused problems before."
Preeti crossed her arms.
"I can take care of myself."
"I know you believe that," Kalpana replied gently. "But sometimes good people get hurt because they assume everyone around them has good intentions. College life isn't always as innocent as it appears."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Kalpana continued.
"As a senior student, I've seen things happen here
that never should have happened. Careers have been destroyed. Lives have been
ruined. I'm only asking you to be careful."
Although Kalpana's concern was genuine, her words irritated Preeti.
"I appreciate your advice," she said, her voice
growing colder. "But I think you're worrying unnecessarily. People should
be judged by how they treat us personally, not by rumors."
"Sometimes rumors exist for a reason," Kalpana
replied.
"Maybe," Preeti said. "But I'd rather make
my own decisions."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked
away.
Kalpana watched her disappear down the corridor and sighed.
She had encountered students like Preeti
before—intelligent, confident, and convinced that misfortune happened only to
other people. Experience had taught her otherwise.
Deep down, Kalpana feared that Preeti's kindness and innocence might one day place her in serious danger.
Among the students who frequently surrounded Preeti was
Hardip Singh.
Hardip came from a wealthy and politically influential
family in Punjab. His father was a powerful legislator whose name carried
considerable weight in political circles. Throughout his life, Hardip had grown
accustomed to privilege, influence, and a lack of consequences.
Rules meant little to him.
While most students respected the college regulations,
Hardip openly ignored them. Although hostel residency was mandatory for medical
students, he rented a luxurious apartment outside campus and lived there without
fear of disciplinary action.
Few people dared challenge him.
Confident, charismatic, and reckless, Hardip possessed
the kind of personality that easily attracted attention. Many students admired
him, while others quietly avoided him.
He enjoyed hosting extravagant parties at his apartment, gatherings filled with loud music, expensive food, and endless entertainment. Invitations to those parties were highly sought after among certain groups of students.
And almost every time Hardip hosted an event, Preeti was
among the guests.
To her, he appeared confident, adventurous, and larger than life. His bold personality fascinated her, and she gradually found herself spending more time in his company.
What Preeti failed to see was that charm and character
are not always the same thing.
Sometimes the most dangerous people wear the friendliest
smiles.
One Friday evening, Hardip invited a select group of friends to his apartment for what he described as a "special celebration."
The invitation generated considerable excitement among the students who received it. Hardip's parties were already known for their extravagance, and this one promised to be even more memorable.
Preeti accepted without hesitation.
As night fell, music echoed through the spacious apartment. Colored lights flashed across the walls while groups of students laughed, danced, and mingled. Food and drinks flowed freely. The atmosphere was energetic and carefree.
At first, the evening seemed no different from the many parties Preeti had attended before.
Then, sometime after midnight, Hardip introduced something new.
Several guests gathered around a table where small packets and pills were being distributed. Some students accepted them casually, as though it were a perfectly ordinary part of the evening.
Preeti immediately felt uncomfortable.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Nothing to worry about," Hardip replied with a
grin. "Just something to make the night more enjoyable."
"No, thanks," she said firmly. "I'm fine."
For a moment, Hardip appeared amused.
"You've never tried anything in your life, have
you?"
"I don't need to."
"One small experience won't hurt you," he said. "You're studying medicine. Surely you're not afraid of a little experiment."
Preeti shook her head.
But the pressure continued.
Others around her laughed and encouraged her to join them. Some insisted she was being overly cautious. Others teased her for behaving like a child.
As the minutes passed, her resistance weakened. Eventually, wanting to avoid further attention, she reluctantly agreed. Only a small amount, she told herself. Nothing more.
What she didn't know was that the substance was far stronger and more dangerous than she had been led to believe. Within a short time, her surroundings began to blur.
The music seemed distant. Conversations drifted in and out of focus. Faces merged into shifting shapes. Her thoughts grew heavy and disorganized, as though a thick fog had settled over her mind.
She tried to remain alert. She tried to stay in control. But
the effort became increasingly difficult.
The last thing she remembered clearly was seeing Hardip standing nearby. Then everything disappeared into darkness.
When Preeti finally opened her eyes the next morning, sunlight was filtering through a partially closed curtain. For several moments, she lay motionless, struggling to understand where she was. A dull ache pulsed through her head. The room felt unfamiliar. Panic surged through her as she sat upright. She was in Hardip's bedroom. Her heart began to race.
Looking down, she realized she was no longer wearing the clothes she had arrived in. Instead, she had been changed into a loose gown. A wave of confusion swept over her. Before she could gather her thoughts, the bedroom door opened and Hardip walked in.
"Oh, you're awake," he said casually. Preeti
stared at him.
"What happened last night?"
"You don't remember?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Not much."
Hardip shrugged.
"You became sick after taking the drugs. You vomited all over your clothes. I had them changed and let you sleep here."
His explanation sounded simple enough. Yet something felt terribly wrong. Fragments of the previous night floated through her mind, but none of them formed a complete picture. The harder she tried to remember, the more elusive the memories became.
An uneasy feeling settled deep inside her. Without saying much more, she gathered her belongings and left. From that day forward, she decided to distance herself from Hardip.
Whatever had happened that night, she wanted no part of him anymore. A week later, Preeti noticed a strange change in the behavior of her classmates. Conversations stopped when she approached.
People whispered as she walked past. Others stared at her with expressions she could not understand. Confused and increasingly anxious, she finally confronted one of her closest friends.
"Tell me what's going on," she said. "Why
is everyone looking at me like that?" Her friend hesitated. Then, with
visible discomfort, she unlocked her phone and handed it over.
"Preeti... I think you need to see this." Preeti looked at the screen. At first, she didn't understand what she was seeing. Then the reality struck. The color drained from her face. Her hands began to tremble. Several videos featuring her had been uploaded to a notorious adult website.
For a moment, the world around her seemed to stop. She
could hear nothing. Feel nothing.
Think nothing. Shock overwhelmed every other emotion. A thousand questions raced through her mind. How had this happened? Who had done it? Why? Then the answer arrived with terrifying clarity.
Hardip.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. She immediately tried to call him. The call didn't go through. She tried again. Blocked. Desperate, she went directly to his apartment. But Hardip was gone. According to the security guard, he had left for Punjab two days earlier. Preeti stood outside the building in stunned silence. For the first time in her life, she felt completely trapped.
The future she had worked so hard to build suddenly seemed to be collapsing around her. And she had no idea how to stop it.
At first, Preeti considered filing a complaint at the nearest police station, but she soon changed her mind. She was aware of Hardip’s political influence, and there was always a strong possibility that the matter would leak to the local media.
Staying in the hostel had become unbearable. Before she could be formally expelled, she decided to leave Bengaluru and return to Pokhara.
Once home, she invented a story to explain her sudden return, telling everyone that everything was normal. Outwardly, she behaved as if nothing had happened, but inside she was restless and shattered. Still, she clung to the hope that her parents would never discover the website where her videos had been uploaded.
But she was wrong.
One day, a message arrived on WhatsApp from her brothers. It was brief and merciless: “Never show your face to us again. If possible, cut all ties with us. Because of you, we are now ashamed to face people.”
Preeti sat on top of a boulder, staring blankly ahead. For the last time, she asked herself, was there any chance she would see another day?
“Perhaps not,” she thought. “All the doors of life seem tightly closed to me now. I will never be able to face my parents or my brothers again. Can I? Maybe I never will.”
A long silence followed. It felt as though the world itself had fallen still around her. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. In the darkness, the faces of her parents and brothers flickered through her mind like fading images on a screen. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
When she opened her eyes again, she felt strangely light—almost weightless. The pain and fear seemed to dissolve. She began to walk forward effortlessly, as though she no longer belonged to the earth. A gentle breeze lifted her across to the other side of the Seti River, and she felt as if she were being carried by the wind.
With each soft gust, Preeti rose higher into the sky,
while her motionless body remained behind on the cold sands of the Seti River.
Those wide-open eyes, still fixed upward, watched her drift away into the
distance.
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