The street was similar to the ones shown by the white men in their films, it was brushed with a tinge of yellow blanketed by the dust from the vehicles and by the smoke rising from the street stalls.
The aroma of spices that marked the Indian culture made the scene picturesque.
But the white-bearded man resting peacefully among this chaos was what caught Brooke’s eyes.
He had come from Britain to find why the thought of India attracted him the most. And at the sight of the old man who had a slight grin on his face, he knew exactly where to ask.
Babaji was sitting with his eyes closed, the question was heard but he remained silent.
Brooke touched his feet and said, “Please do answer my question, Babaji, I would like to know my purpose here”.
Brooke was startled by a voice that was deep yet calm like the ocean.
“What brought you here is your purpose, young man.”
“But I don’t understand”.
“You will.”
Babaji stood up from his trance, touched Brooke’s head and began to recede away, moving peacefully like a bubble floating above the chaotic waves of the ocean.
Brooke was flabbergasted by what he saw. Everything around him vanished, he felt his whole body vibrate in the rhythm of the universe while his eyes reflected his true self.
It felt like hours before he opened his eyes but it took only two minutes, he realised. He searched for Babaji, and he spotted him far away moving at the same pace, the pace of the Universe.
The author of the most prestigious horror series decided to take a break. To escape from all the paparazzi and cacophony, he chose to stay at the lake house owned by his family for generations. Even though he hated the place so much, it was his only option.
The trees outside swayed with creepiness. And the winds quavered queerly. Alone, he decided to watch a movie. “Dark”, a cassette on the shelf read. Unable to find anything else, he played it on. “You call this horror, duh” he chuckled after watching it for some time .
He was awoken by a scream. The TV was on and screeching, assuming the cassette was stuck, he switched it off and went to the kitchen to grab something to quench his hunger. While he was in the kitchen, he felt the scream as real as ever. He began to ponder about it and accidentally poured the milk on the floor.
“Arghhh”, he grumbled. While cleaning it, to his bemusement he heard the scream once again, a shrill one compared to the first. His instinct made him feel unsafe but as an author who writes the most overrated eerie stories his curiousness won over. He grabbed his jacket and scrambled outside and ran in the direction of the scream.
The woods seemed to be waiting for its prey, their eyes followed the running man towards the shabby bridge near the lake. The scream died when he reached there. Breathless from all the running, he searched for the source. His eyes fixed on a girl far ahead of the lake, she was gasping for air and drowning.
Without a second thought, he jumped on the ramshackle boat hoarded near the bridge and grabbed the moss-covered oar, and started to row towards her. He kept his eyes on the target but his oar got stuck in some weed beneath and he lost the direction.
He kept on rowing until he reached the point where he had seen the girl. He looked around and saw the hem of the girl’s dress, afraid she might have drowned, he rowed vigorously and leaned over and got hold of it.
He pulled hard but fell back and realized that he was holding on to a torn piece of dress. “That’s mine”, a voice was heard. He got startled and turned around to see a girl sitting on the other side. His mind was in utter shock. A cold eerie breeze brushed past her, he glanced at her dress and saw it was torn apart. The full moon shone bright and he was bewildered. She was legless. He felt a chill at the back of his neck. He glowed at her in terror realizing that he was in a story he will never be able to write.
“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”
Someone was yelling his throat out. My head was pounding hard from inside. I guess it took a minute or two to come back to my senses. It was so difficult for my eyes to adjust to the light. Every cell of my body was screaming in agony. Things started to exacerbate. It took me a while to figure out what was happening but it was too late. My eyes started to see things or I guess it felt more like a death wish. Lying down the sky was red with blood. Inside the metro, the light was flickering and blurriness covered my eyes.
The yellow fingers of the sun brushed my hair . I could hear the soft bristle of leaves when cold air caressed them. The birds were chirping beautiful tunes and the waves kept kissing the shore. Crabs slowly paced enjoying the pure unmitigated beauty. I turned my face and saw a young girl with her blond hair tied to a pony jingling sideways, smiling. Her nice little sweet voice and her shrieking laughter started ringing inside my ears. I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I tried hard. But my whole body ached. Along with her, I saw a lady beautiful as the young girl grabbed and tickled her and she said something to the young girl, pointing at me. She sidled towards me with both her arms apart saying something, this time I tried harder, even though my body restricted me I didn’t care. It was really difficult, that tears streamed from my eyes. Tears of happiness shadowed by pain. And I heard two words”Pa..Pa, I love you”. My heart was pounding harder and I felt like puking. Tears strolled down my cheeks. For a moment I felt satiated. She looked so beautiful and I wanted to grab her with both my arms hug her to the fullest and say those beautiful words to her. I tried to move my lips slowly but they were wet with blood and numb. I stammered and my voice quavered to say “I ….lo…love….u.too,ho…ney”. But it was too late. Fell into an unprecedented peace and it never came out.
After 20 years later on 22/ 7/2014 a pulchritudinous young lady stood in front of the tomb looking at it bereaved with a palpable feeling of poignance. She stood for a while with no tears and left by placing a bouquet and a smile appeared on her face.
The tomb said: In loving memory of Jacob Smith Died on 22/7/1994 Aged 33 years A breeze brushed past her and she heard ‘I love you, honey’. Nature smiled. At that moment a regrettable story found its way out. And the clouds cried. A rain of love and happiness.
She, in her life, cried many times but the one time, excruciating pain devoured her, tears and sweat plummeted hard, her cries reflected the intense agony. Her obscure screams were suffocated by fear and enthusiasm but when the sudden shrills of feeble spasmodic weeps accompanied her screams, her shrieks slowly faded.
The tears that began their journey from her exhausted eyes met the lips that beamed with ecstasy. Within seconds she had forsaken all she had gone through because she was overwhelmed by the gain of being a mother rather than the pain of becoming a mother.
That is the one time in every women’s life when tears of cry and happiness collide.
“Hey it’s a full moon tonight, remember what we promised”
“Yes, love, how can I forget”
The full moon shone brighter than ever, he sent her a voice message, and she replied with the same, they both looked up the sky, fervently glaring at the moon, they played the message- ‘I love you’.
Life was busy yet I found time to stroll through the garden where we first met. It has been an year still I don’t know why I come back here. I am trying hard to move on but I can’t. I am trying hard to forget but I can’t. I am trying to live but I am not able to. So I decided to stop this all for once.
It was cold but the warm rays were comforting. The atmosphere in the park was similar to the first time I met her. It was like the nature was bidding me farewell for all the memories that we had made together. Only difference was she was not there beside me and the visit, the last one. Sitting on the bench that led to our rendezvous, I closed my eyes.
Beside me I saw her, her eyes, her smile, the first time she did that and I fell for her. From there on, I went through all our first times. The times alongside the riverbed where we first kissed, the first night when we touched each other’s souls. Our first fight. It all seemed like yesterday. I was waken by the wetness that I felt on my cheeks. Tears of joy, pain or poignance, it was difficult to understand.
But suddenly I was startled by the aged, grey haired man sitting next to me. 75 or so I thought. What bemused me was he was staring right into my eyes and what amazed me more was that his eyes had the same blue tinge just like mine.
“Are you okay? Do you need any help?”
“You asking me? This nature knows who needs help right now.”
“Pardon, I didn’t get what you said? Why were you staring at me?”.
“Let me tell you something, you miss someone, someone you loved, but she is not with you anymore and now you are grieving to get back together but you are not able to understand what you did wrong because you were totally honest with her, right”.
“Yes, but how..how?”
“Did you love her?”
“Yes”
“Did she love you?”
“Yes”
“Then why did she leave you?”
“I….I.. don’t know”.
“You know true lovers are separated only by death, and that is the real pain you can’t never forget. Believe me this is nothing compared to that. Let me tell you this, you may have really loved her but if she had loved you like the way you felt for her she would have never done this to you. Why are you sobbing for something that wasn’t true?.”.
“You are absolutely right. Thank you, really, I am feeling much better, I need to go now, have some unfinished business to take care of but may I ask you something, how come I didn’t see you when you came here?”
“You called me.”
“I called you but I don’t even know you?”.
“Oh, there is no one else in this world who knows me better than you do.”
“What are you saying?”
“You will understand everything but not now”.
“Ok one more thing,are you a mind reader, how did you know what I was thinking?”.
He smiled vaguely.
“No, I am not, experiences taught me, life made me and nature bought me”.
Not understanding what he meant by that I started walking back to the entrance when I realised I forgot something. Before turning around, I asked
“Sorry, What is your name?”.
“The name people call you”.
I turned around stunned. But the bench was empty.
Shocked I left the garden by leaving all the memories there. Lulled by the thought that I am yet to find my true love…
Biblichor 