“She appears so calm, so possessed…”
The judge couldn’t help wondering as he gazed with reluctant admiration at Laya.
She was there in the box- allegedly a victim of rape and abuse at the hands of Vij- who was standing there leering mockingly at her.
His lawyer had made out a neat defense with all required supporting arguments and papers. The clinching evidence in the defense side was a piece of medical paper, signed by some medical practitioner that everything was 'normal' about her.
Now it was mocking time for the suspect and the defense lawyer as they took turns at leering and laughing aloud at her and her lawyer for their utter failure in establishing anything.
“Want to say something?” asked the judge, with ill concealed kindness.
“Just that I had never seen this bloke before he attacked me, and I am in my senses perfectly. So no Earthly motive can be attributed to me for this allegation on him.”
Defense shouted, “But this paper, after a thorough medical examination says everything about you is normal…evidence is everything, is it not, your honour?”
His Honour could only nod, though reluctantly.
“Look, she appears so calm and possessed, the witch!” said Vij, evoking another bout of derisive laughter.
On hearing the word ‘possessed’, there was a sudden transformation in Laya.
Things happened so fast thereafter that even the people present there couldn’t really vouch for it under oath.
Laya seemed to close her eyes for a few seconds and apparently pray…some people said they clearly heard the word ‘Devi’, meaning Goddess. When she opened her eyes, she looked like a fiery demon, possessed, others said.
There was a sudden, violent, lightning movement as she seemed to spring out her box like a wounded tigress. She was so fast, almost superhumanly fast, so that no one could restrain her. There was a haze of light, an aura kind of thing, which obscured clear vision for a short spell in the courtroom.
Only some blood curdling screams were heard. By the time, things cleared up, Laya was back in her box, smiling nonchalantly.
Vij and the defense lawyer were seen lying in a pool of blood, throats neatly, professionally slit.
Many weeks later:
It was Laya’s murder trial.
Laya’s defense lawyer was at his eloquent best, “No one in the courtroom is able to say clearly what happened. Laya was seen in her own box, so calm and possessed. There was no murder weapon or blood on her person.”
Then he waved a piece of paper at the judge, “Further, your Honour, here it says she is normal, doesn’t it? Evidence is everything, is it not, your Honour?”