The havan was organised promptly. Shyam’s parents, desperate to banish the evil spirit residing inside Shyam’s body, made all necessary arrangements despite their modest incomes. Apart from paying for all the requirements and Guruji’s dakshina, they also promised to feed eleven cows daily for eleven days.
“Worry not, my dear, if we have to go without food for a few days,” Shyam’s father said. “I will work hard to bring more money to feed the cows. We have made a divine vow and we shall dare not break it.”
“Food is not of concern to me,” Shyam’s mother replied. “I will pretend that we are fasting in His holy name. It is my child’s safety that troubles me. Once he gets better then surely our lives would see brighter days.”
The havan was a ritualistic affair where Shyam was made to sit in the center of the room with a holy fire in front of him. The fire was surrounded by numerous frankincense sticks; together they gave off enough smoke to frighten any mortal being; but here we were dealing with the supernatural and hence the rituals were justified.
Guruji chanted vehemently, periodically sprinkling a few drops of oil, grains and ghee into the fire, as Shyam’s parents sat behind him with folded legs and folded hands. Their eyes were shut and they repeated the verses after Guruji. Bhola, standing in a corner of the room, observed the proceedings with folded hands. He was hoping and praying that his best friend be cured. He knew as much as anyone else how much Shyam had already suffered due to the invasion of this evil force.
The havan lasted over an hour post which Guruji opened his eyes and stared at Shyam.
“How are you feeling now?” Guruji asked.
Shyam burst into tears. His parents didn’t move lest they break the impact of the puja; but Bhola ran to console him. He put his arms around him and asked him what the matter was.
“The ghost is very angry because of the puja,” Shyam sobbed. “He is whistling very loudly now.”
“My estimate was right,” Guruji said, meditatively. “This evil spirit is more powerful than what we first thought. We will have to resort to extreme measures to purify the child.”
“What should we do now?” Shyam’s parents asked, pleadingly.
“Two nights from now a full moon will adorn the skies,” Guruji said, stroking his long, white beard. “At the stroke of midnight we shall tie the child to the giant oak tree in the center of the village and whip him with a hundred lashes.”
“A hundred lashes?” Shyam’s parents exclaimed.
Guruji nodded, “Fifty each from both of you.”
Category: Series
Bhola Saves The Day – Part II
Guruji was revered by one and all in the village for his wisdom and expansive knowledge of the divine. He had helped solve a lot of problems in the village which had previously seemed impossible to resolve, including curing people of mysterious ailments. It was little wonder then that when Shyam felt the presence of a ghost inside of him, his parents decided to seek Guruji’s guidance; their only regret being not seeking his help earlier.
“Since when have you felt the presence of this evil spirit within you?” Guruji asked Shyam in his aged yet soft voice.
Shyam, sitting opposite Guruji, had narrated this tale a dozen times to others. “It was seven nights ago. Mama and papa had gone to sleep but I was wide awake. I was lying on the floor and simply staring out of the window, admiring stars and the night sky when all of a sudden I heard his voice.”
“Did you see him?”
Shyam shook his head and replied enthusiastically, “I did not even realise when or how exactly he found his way inside of me. He must be very wily and cunning.”
Guruji urged him to keep his voice low. “We do not want the devil to hear us. Right. What did he do next?”
“Like I said, I began to hear him suddenly,” Shyam was whispering now. His parents, sitting next to him, had to lean in to hear what he had to say. “He wasn’t speaking a word. He was simply whistling. That’s all that he has been doing. Sometimes he gets tired and goes to sleep and I don’t hear him then. But sometimes, especially at night, he comes to life and haunts me.”
“Is he whistling now?”
Shyam shook his head again.
“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me,” Guruji said.
“Why?” Bhola, who was standing behind Shyam and observing everything quietly, enquired with a genuine curiousity.
“Hush now! Don’t question Guruji,” Shyam’s father intervened. “You’re too young.”
“Forgive him, Guruji,” Shyam’s mother pleaded. “He is just a child. He is Shyam’s best friend. He is just a child, you know.”
Guruji looked at Bhola and offered him a warm smile but Bhola was upset that his question was not answered. He thought he was not being unreasonable or disrespectful.
Shyam did as he was told. He stuck his tongue out and made a funny sound while doing so which made Bhola giggle furtively.
Guruji brought the attention of Shyam’s parents to his tongue and said, “Look, the tongue is pale with white spots all over.”
Shyam’s parents nodded. Shyam’s parents were simple people who laboured by the day and laboured by the night, and if they ever found a moment’s rest for their hands they folded it in prayer to the almighty. Their biggest concern was to rid their one and only child of the evil spirit residing within him. If Guruji had asked them that their child’s tongue has fairies dancing on top of it then too the two of them would have nodded to the statement.
“I have never seen his tongue so pale,” his mother observed.
“What about my tongue? Is it also pale?” Bhola asked, sticking his tongue out.
“No, your tongue is bright and pink compared to Shyam’s tongue,” Shyam’s father answered. “The difference is clear.”
Shyam’s mother also stuck her tongue out for comparison and it was agreed that even her tongue has no visible points of concern. Needless to say, it was Shyam’s father’s turn to stick his tongue out for others to examine. Again, needless to say, they arrived at the same conclusion.
Guruji looked on at the four creatures in front of him sticking their tongues out and examining each other. He did not know whether to be amused or bemused by it.
When the four saw Guruji watching them with a perplexed face they quickly reverted to their previous positions and remained silent, awaiting further instructions.
“I am afraid the evil spirit is stronger than what I had expected him to be,” Guruji spoke with concern written all over his face. “We must act quickly before the whole household becomes possessed.”
“Whole household?” Shyam’s father asked, shocked at the words he had just heard. Shyam’s mother repeated the question and looked at Guruji with hopeful eyes.
Guruji nodded and replied, “To drive away the evil spirit, we must organise a havan promptly.”
Bhola Saves The Day – Part I
Bhoot. Bhoot.
Shyam’s mates teased him as he entered the class. Shyam was visibly shaken and on the verge of a breakdown. He kept his head low and sat on the first bench in the corner of the room. Nobody sat anywhere close to him. Nobody except Bhola.
Bhola and Shyam were best friends. They lived next door to each other and had practically spent their teeny-weeny years together. They played together. They studied together. They dug treasures and noses together. They were inseparable.
Bhoot. Bhoot.
Someone (or probably more) had etched those ghastly words on his wooden desk. Shyam quickly covered it with his books.
The teasing continued. Bhola could hear other kids whispering mean things about his friend. Even Miss Geeta’s rebuke failed to silence them.
He is possessed
Don’t go near him
He will eat you
Soon he will turn green
He is a demon
Bhola wanted the teasing to stop but he was powerless. He looked at Shyam to offer him some comfort but Shyam had his head hung low and did not look up. School was a nightmare for him. Shyam wanted to run and go as far as his legs could take him. Little kids are often told that they are capable of anything and everything but they are seldom allowed to do what their little hearts desire. Shyam stayed still in his seat and prayed for the torment to end.
When the giggling and the whispering got louder, Miss Geeta reprimanded the class firmly.
“I don’t want to hear any mumbling. Keep your eyes on the book.”
She walked up to Shyam and said, “Ignore them. Try and concentrate on your studies. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Shyam looked up and nodded. He had come to hate Miss Geeta at this point. It was at her insistence that his parents had agreed to continue sending him to school. They were otherwise keen on keeping him home until he was “completely pure again”. Shyam cursed her under his breath and buried his face in his book.
Bhola noticed that Shyam’s nose was red with shame and embarrassment. When Miss Geeta walked away to continue her lesson, Bhola patted him on the shoulder and whispered gently.
“She’s right. Don’t worry. You will get better soon.”
“Y-yes,” Shyam replied, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Mama and papa have asked Guruji to visit us.”
The Substitute (complete)
It took some before I realised
The root cause of all my pains
Inside my ribcage
Sitting slightly behind and to the left of the sternum
From the deep crevices of an organ
The size of my fist
Wrapped in layers and layers of tissue
All the pains emerged
Like soldiers marching into a battle
With sharp swords and spears
Flinging them at my chest
Till I break
I went to a nearby shop and asked,
“Have you a replacement for a heart?
Something that doesn’t break as often
Something that doesn’t hurt as much.”
“Nope,” she said. “I haven’t the thing I think you’re looking for
I have fine red apples here with me
Possibly the right size for your chest
But they’re no immune from disaster
All the finest care in the world will
Not stop this fruit from withering
Emitting a pungent smell
Leaving a bad taste in your mouth
Now unless you plan to greet me every week
And buy a bunch of these fine red apples from me
I believe I have not the thing you’re looking for
But I do know Joe, the handyman
And he, indeed, is a handy man
He’s got all the tools that any man has ever known
And some really useful implements
Be sure to darken his doorstep
If you wish to find a cure
For whatever disease it is that is plaguing you.”
I bowed my head and thanked her
She smiled and winked at me
I failed to understand her
“Hello, I’m Joe,” he said. “Welcome, welcome
Whatever is it that you’re looking for
You’re bound to find it here
I’ve got all types of screws in this world
All sizes and all colours
I’ve got nails of varying heights
And hammers that go with them
I’ve even got me a drill machine
That can penetrate through walls
Like a knife slashing butter
Or like a sword slashing veins
What is it you’re seeking? Oh, a heart, I hear?
A heart that cries very little?
And certainly feels no pain?
Oh my, oh my, I’ve got pins and bolts to fix everything
But don’t believe I have enough to fix your troubles
You’ve certainly put a bummer on me
I’m no longer the almighty Joe
Take, take my sincere apologies
And hurry, hurry towards the shrine
Where you’ll find a wise, old man
Who has plenty of time to ponder
On all that is and is not
But has very little time to shave or bath
Hasten, hasten, my friend, do not be idle
A woe like yours needs urgent attention
You better not lose a moment
Tell him all your troubles
He’s bound to give a solution
If he fails, I’m afraid
There’ll be nobody left to help you at all.”
I bowed my head and thanked him
He curved his lips in response
I failed to recognise that expression
Atop a little hill, an old dilapidated structure
Bore itself out in view
Against the blue backdrop of the summer sky
The climb was steep but brief
I paused at the entrance of the shrine
And reflected upon the craft and purses of men
Men who thought it needful
To build abodes for deities
Who had the heavens and beyond for themselves
While their sisters with their husbands and children perished all around them
The thought did not bring anger to my veins
As it had so often done before
But it did bring a recollection of the previous instance
When rage had seized me and held me captive for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime
Nevertheless, this was not the time to reflect
Upon anything but my aggravating pain
Which hammered at my chest
And tore at my spirit
I slipped the shoes off my feet
And stepped inside the sanctum
In the middle of a small, dark room
The man sat deep in meditation
Sat would be the wrong word
For the man floated an inch above the ground
With his long, white, wavy beard the only thing in contact with the slabbed floor
His eyes were closed, and he was mumbling I know not what
I could see him; I could see him because
He radiated light from within himself
He seemed magical or perhaps phony
“Excuse me,” I said, careful about not disturbing his poise too much
“I have come seeking an answer
Joe, the handyman, referred me here
He said that you can solve anything
Well, he didn’t say that precisely
But I suppose that is what he meant
I do have a problem and I implore you to give me an answer
My heart beats
It beats hard and fast
And it hurts
There are no two ways about it
It kills me from inside every day
Even now, as I speak, it is pricking me
With the jolt of a thousand thunderbolts
I fear that I may take it no more unless something definite be done about it.”
“It is not your heart that is beating,” the man replied without opening his eyes
“Your heart is not beating at all.”
I sat down near his feet at his signal
His legs were still crossed and hovering
With eyes still closed, he spoke:
“I did not hear your heart beat when you stepped in here
And I do not hear it now
Your problem is not your heart, but your mask
You wish to take out your heart
But it is your mask you should take off
But I fear that is not what you came to hear
My child, you will find what you seek
It is exactly what you want
Yet it is precisely what you don’t need
Nevertheless, carry your feet a mile from here
Where the sands and waters meet
There, close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer.”
Close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer
The words rang in my ears as I made my way to my destination
The beach stretched beyond the gaze of one’s eyes
The water, blue and pristine, was inviting
I sat myself down upon a rock
Took a deep breath and closed my eyes
The waves crashed one after another
against the silent, still, soulless rocks
Forcing the residue droplets upon my skin
The water felt nice and warm
The winds blew gently, gladly
The chattering in the distance became redundant gradually as I eased into my stance
Close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer
Time must have flown by
Whether an hour or an half – I wasn’t to tell
The answer still eluded me
The pain didn’t
A few more hours must have passed
Had the day reached its end?
Was Time moving swiftly or had it slowed its pace
I wasn’t to tell
With my eyes closed, the world, to me, had come to a still
My age I knew not
Time guised itself in the form of sand
Evading the tight clutches of one’s hands
Time, indeed, is an illusion
What if a month had passed me by?
What if a year?
What if Time had itself stopped to exist?
I could open my eyes and find out
But it was not worth it
The answer I sought was more relevant
Close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer
I did close my eyes and heard the waves crashing against the rocks as I perched upon one such rock and sought my answer
Nothing came to me
Nothing came to me until…
The sound of the waves crashing
Perched upon a hard surface
Yes, it did make sense
In that one moment or in that infinity of moments I found my answer
I opened my eyes
The rock, the rock, the rock
Silent, still, soulless rock
Senseless, stark and simple rock
The rock, the rock, the rock
When the realisation dawned upon me
I felt a surge for a moment, only for a moment
The answer I had sought
Was there right in front of my eyes
Was there all around me
A perfect substitute for my heart
But here I was wrong
It was a substitute no doubt
But far from the perfect size
The one I sat on was larger than my own frame
And so were the others around
The right size was indispensable for its residency inside my chest
I hunted high and low
I covered the length of the beach
For hours I forgot my pain
Because something was more pressing
I was about to lose hope and quit
When my eyes fell upon a beauty
A thing of pure and unparalleled magnificence
That silver, glistening stone had my name, and only my name, written on it
I picked it up
It was perfect; about the size of my fist
A little hefty but beautiful
It was love at first sight
I held the rock above my head
And watched with adoring eyes
How beautiful it seemed
With the moon as the backdrop
I placed it gently upon a larger rock
And looked for a tool to carve open my chest
Take my heart out and dump it in the sea
But I could not find anything sharp
Or pointy to carry out my surgery
I lamented my luck and cursed my heart
“How do I get you out of my chest?
Tell me, what could I do to drive you away
You miserable, wretched thing
You cause nothing but pain
All these years you have accumulated grief and sorrow
And used them to strike me repeatedly
I am exhausted
Not a single moment of joy have you kept inside
Not a single moment of love or appreciation can I remember
Why? Why? Why are you so troublesome?
What pleasure do you derive?
Pack your bags and leave
There’s no place in me for uninvited guests
You have overstayed your welcome
Now is the time for you to go
Go! Go!
I have found a substitute
A perfect replacement
It will not attack me or hurt me
It will not hoard bad memories
It will do what I want it to do
It will be my companion
Go away you wicked beast!
Take your savage form and leave!”
Presently I felt a jolt
A strong, shaking, shivering feeling
My chest ripped open and
Out stepped my heart
“Look here, you stupid, selfish, scummy little piece of dust,” my heart started
“I’ve had enough of you and I’m outta here
I don’t need no ungrateful master who does not appreciate how good a job I do
You blame me as you always do
As all your bros have done
As your sons will do long after you are gone
Alas, but, you will have no offspring
Because you are an idiot
And it is only fair that idiots do not go on to bring a child into this damned world
Being a parent is a job which should be reserved only to the qualified ones
Not to whiny, entitled fools
I know because I have had children myself
The veins that root in your body are my kids
I feed them everyday with my own hands
Together we ensure you and your wicked brain have enough to go on and lament about us
Speaking of your brain; ah, where do I even begin?
Not for a moment you have considered discarding your brain, have you?
It is your brain which belongs in the trash, not I
Your brain directed you to wear a mask because it was weak and could not cope with all the shitty problems
Your brain had rooms and it leased it out to psychotic, negative thoughts and then had trouble bringing rent from them or driving them out
So it decided to accept them as family and live with them ‘happily ever after’
My God, what an idiotic solution
I kept quiet through all this because I had no other choice
No heart does; we simply do our job till the end
I heard you blame me through all this
Your screwed-up brain mocked me
Yet I did not protest
And now you come up with this?
Another idiotic solution to solve your problems?
You want to replace me with this lifeless rock?
Just because it is shiny?
My God, you are hopeless
You are doomed; your brain is leading you to a pit
You are bound to fall
That is why I have no further role to play here
I am going
My children will stay with you; I pity them
They are absorbed by a sense of duty
They remind me of my youthful days
Nevertheless I will take my leave now
Hope you have a good time, if any.”
And that’s all he said before disappearing from my sight
I was stunned, but not surprised
I always knew him to be a perfect brat
My heart had vanished
My chest lay open
The silver rock in my heart glistened in the moonlight
A little heavy it was
I thought it to be the perfect fit
Alas when I tried to place it in my chest
It was slightly oversized
I turned it this way and that
Twisted it here and there
But the silly rock
Refused to stay inside
I brought it out and wondered
If I could only chisel it a little
Then all my miseries would disappear from within
I hunted and searched
But could not find an apt object
So I began to scrape the rock
With the nails on my fingers
I sat on the barren beach
With the moon supervising overhead
The waves and winds I did not notice
As I put my mind to the task
I scraped and scratched the hard surface
Slowly but surely I made progress
A thought did light up inside me —
How was I not feeling any pain?
I continued chiselling the rock
The sun rose and asked the night
To take some much-needed rest
But not a word to me did he utter
If he did I must have missed it
I was busy, you see
And then after a good many hours
I looked at the rock and exclaimed —
Yes this is the right size
I looked at it one last time before shoving it in my chest
This time it did fit
No sooner had I put a rock in my chest where my heart used to be
My veins connected their suspended ends to the silvery beast
And enveloped it completely
I smiled because I thought the transformation was taking place successfully
Because I thought that the plan was working
Because I assumed that there will be no more pain
How wrong was I!
My skin began to harden
My veins began to turn gray
My legs turned stiff
My head felt heavy
My eyelids wouldn’t blink
My nostrils wouldn’t twitch
The whole body was undergoing an unpleasant change
Then I fell
Face-first into the glistening sand
Devoid of life
Devoid of soul
Only a granite body for company
Along with the other massive rocks on the beach
As the golden sun awoke
The pain had disappeared, forever
The Substitute – Part 12
No sooner had I put a rock in my chest where my heart used to be
My veins connected their suspended ends to the silvery beast
And enveloped it completely
I smiled because I thought the transformation was taking place successfully
Because I thought that the plan was working
Because I assumed that there will be no more pain
How wrong was I!
My skin began to harden
My veins began to turn gray
My legs turned stiff
My head felt heavy
My eyelids wouldn’t blink
My nostrils wouldn’t twitch
The whole body was undergoing an unpleasant change
Then I fell
Face-first into the glistening sand
Devoid of life
Devoid of soul
Only a granite body for company
Along with the other massive rocks on the beach
As the golden sun awoke
The pain had disappeared, forever
The End
The Substitute – Part 11
My heart had vanished
My chest lay open
The silver rock in my heart glistened in the moonlight
A little heavy it was
I thought it to be the perfect fit
Alas when I tried to place it in my chest
It was slightly oversized
I turned it this way and that
Twisted it here and there
But the silly rock
Refused to stay inside
I brought it out and wondered
If I could only chisel it a little
Then all my miseries would disappear from within
I hunted and searched
But could not find an apt object
So I began to scrape the rock
With the nails on my fingers
I sat on the barren beach
With the moon supervising overhead
The waves and winds I did not notice
As I put my mind to the task
I scraped and scratched the hard surface
Slowly but surely I made progress
A thought did light up inside me —
How was I not feeling any pain?
I continued chiselling the rock
The sun rose and asked the night
To take some much-needed rest
But not a word to me did he utter
If he did I must have missed it
I was busy, you see
And then after a good many hours
I looked at the rock and exclaimed —
Yes this is the right size
I looked at it one last time before shoving it in my chest
This time it did fit
The Substitute – Part 10
“Look here, you stupid, selfish, scummy little piece of dust,” my heart started
“I’ve had enough of you and I’m outta here
I don’t need no ungrateful master who does not appreciate how good a job I do
You blame me as you always do
As all your brothers have done
As your sons will do long after you are gone
Alas, but, you will have no offspring
Because you are an idiot
And it is only fair that idiots do not go on to bring a child into this damned world
Being a parent is a job which should be reserved only to the qualified ones
Not to whiny, entitled fools
I know because I have had children myself
The veins that root in your body are my kids
I feed them everyday with my own hands
Together we ensure you and your wicked brain have enough to go on and lament about us
Speaking of your brain; ah, where do I even begin?
Not for a moment you have considered discarding your brain, have you?
It is your brain which belongs in the trash, not I
Your brain directed you to wear a mask because it was weak and could not cope with all the shitty problems
Your brain had rooms and it leased it out to psychotic, negative thoughts and then had trouble bringing rent from them or driving them out
So it decided to accept them as family and live with them ‘happily ever after’
My God, what an idiotic solution
I kept quiet through all of this because I had no other choice
No heart does; we simply do our job till the end
I heard you blame me through all this
Your screwed-up brain mocked me
Yet I did not protest
And now you come up with this?
Another idiotic solution to solve your problems?
You want to replace me with this lifeless rock?
Just because it is shiny?
My God, you are hopeless
You are doomed; your brain is leading you to a pit
You are bound to fall
That is why I have no further role to play here
I am going
My children will stay with you; I pity them
They are absorbed by a sense of duty
They remind me of my youthful days
Nevertheless I will take my leave now
Hope you have a good time, if any.”
And that’s all he said before disappearing from my sight
I was stunned, but not surprised
I always knew him to be a perfect brat
The Substitute – Part 9
I held the rock above my head
And watched with adoring eyes
How beautiful it seemed
With the moon as the backdrop
I placed it gently upon a larger rock
And looked for a tool to carve open my chest
Take my heart out and dump it in the sea
But I could not find anything sharp
Or pointy to carry out my surgery
I lamented my luck and cursed my heart
“How do I get you out of my chest?
Tell me, what could I do to drive you away
You miserable, wretched thing
You cause nothing but pain
All these years you have accumulated grief and sorrow
And used them to strike me repeatedly
I am exhausted
Not a single moment of joy have you kept inside
Not a single moment of love or appreciation can I remember
Why? Why? Why are you so troublesome?
What pleasure do you derive?
Pack your bags and leave
There’s no place in me for uninvited guests
You have overstayed your welcome
Now is the time for you to go
Go! Go!
I have found a substitute
A perfect replacement
It will not attack me or hurt me
It will not hoard bad memories
It will do what I want it to do
It will be my companion
Go away you wicked beast!
Take your savage form and leave!”
Presently I felt a jolt
A strong, shaking, shivering feeling
My chest ripped open and
Out stepped my heart
The Substitute – Part 8
The rock, the rock, the rock
Silent, still, soulless rock
Senseless, stark and simple rock
The rock, the rock, the rock
When the realisation dawned upon me
I felt a surge for a moment, only for a moment
The answer I had sought
Was there right in front of my eyes
Was there all around me
A perfect substitute for my heart
But here I was wrong
It was a substitute no doubt
But far from the perfect size
The one I sat on was larger than my own frame
And so were the others around
The right size was indispensable for its residency inside my chest
I hunted high and low
I covered the length of the beach
For hours I forgot my pain
Because something else was more pressing
I was about to lose hope and quit
When my eyes fell upon a beauty
A thing of pure and unparalleled magnificence
That silver, glistening stone had my name, and only my name, written upon it
I picked it up
It was perfect; about the size of my fist
A little hefty but beautiful
It was love at first sight
The Substitute – Part 7
Close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer
The words rang in my ears as I made my way to my destination
The beach stretched beyond the gaze of one’s eyes
The water, blue and pristine, was inviting
I sat myself down upon a rock
Took a deep breath and closed my eyes
The waves crashed one after another
against the silent, still, soulless rocks
Forcing the residue droplets upon my skin
The water felt nice and warm
The winds blew gently, gladly
The chattering in the distance became redundant gradually as I eased into my stance
Close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer
Time must have flown by
Whether an hour or an half – I wasn’t to tell
The answer still eluded me
The pain didn’t
A few more hours must have passed
Had the day reached its end?
Was Time moving swiftly or had it slowed its pace
I wasn’t to tell
With my eyes closed, the world, to me, had come to a still
My age I knew not
Time guised itself in the form of sand
Evading the tight clutches of one’s hands
Time, indeed, is an illusion
What if a month had passed me by?
What if a year?
What if Time had itself stopped to exist?
I could open my eyes and find out
But it was not worth it
The answer I sought was more relevant
Close your eyes and listen
To the sound of the waves crashing
Whilst perched upon a hard surface
There you shall find your answer
I did close my eyes and heard the waves crashing against the rocks as I perched upon one such rock and sought my answer
Nothing came to me
Nothing came to me until…
The sound of the waves crashing
Perched upon a hard surface
Yes, it did make sense
In that one moment or in that infinity of moments I found my answer
I opened my eyes
Frank Solanki 