Awesome Blossoms: Horn OK Please (7 page)

The man with the red bag felt pity for the old man. Suddenly the piece of paper wriggled out of the old man’s hands and landed near his feet. Careful, so as not to let the paper get lost in the vas
tness of the moment, he lunged at it and tried to read the contents.

The paper was creased and had stains of oil and mud. It was rough with uneven edges. It smelt of betel nut. Something seemed to have been written on it in a clumsy manner in a lot of hurry. The handwriting looked familiar. It was a telegram that he had sent one day before. It had the name of the train and some timing. His heart started to beat faster as he approached the sleeping man. He gently placed his hands on the weak shoulders as the man woke up.

Their eyes met and time stood still. Seven years conjured on the rails of time as emotions began to flow. The red bag lost the grip as it landed with a thud on the dusty platform.

Suddenly, the old man turned pale and his limp body landed on the floor. He had stopped breathing.

The young man picked up the limp body and placed it on the bench. It was as light as a bag of cotton. His cheeks were moist.  The arms, that were strong and muscular once, lay motionless with fingers curled in a fist. The legs had undertaken their last arduous journey before finally giving up after fulfilling their desire.

As the young man yearned to hear the voice of the dead man for one last time, the angles guided the spirit of the old man hea
venwards. He had done his bit in his life. Now, the onus lay on the young man. Gently, he placed a kiss on the dead man’s forehead and hugged him for the last time.

After all, it was his father who had left the world after getting a glimpse of his son.

And the wind continued to blow as the clock ticked…

***

CHAPTER SIX

By Aditi

***

Reading furnishes the mind only with materials of knowledge; it is thinking that makes what we read ours.

- John Locke

Just Another Girl

I
t was a cheerful day at a small village in a land far, far away. The birds chirped and the children played as the aroma of freshly baked bread floated in the air. Happiness was everywhere; at every turn, in every alley. You could hear it through the beige doors and see it through the crimson windows. On looking through one such window; you would find a young girl with chubby cheeks and bright eyes, pore over a book. Her absolute concentration on reading the book would make you believe that probably it was her favorite one.

Alice was reading…yet again. She was like any other girl. Her life was replete with cheer and humor. Not more than ten years of age, she was slim and her fair complexion added to her charm. The soft curls of her hair embraced her tiny shoulders and her vivid eyes darted from page to page as she read. Books were her best friends and reading was her passion. But she never quite unde
rstood as to why her parents never liked to see her read, leave apart the encouraging her.  She thought that her parents were against reading, but little did she know about their fear.

She did not know that on the other side of the woods, where the world was dark, lived an evil witch. She looked ugly with her pale-green skin, a crooked nose full of warts, monstrous yellow eyes and a contorted mouth. If there was one thing she hated more than life, it was happiness.

Meanwhile, on the happy side of the world, Alice became more powerful day-by-day in terms owing to the massive amount of reading that she was doing. But there were days when she would pull herself away from the books so that she could play with her childhood friends – Susan, Jake, Pam and Carl. The books would be safely kept in the closet as long as the friends were together. The moment she would return home after having a good time playing games, she would be instantly glued to her books. Her parents warned her to not read too much for they too felt some strange power emanating from her and that would definitely call for trouble as the witch was the only one who could have power, absolute power.

Each day, without her realizing, Alice’s power compounded. One fine day, the witch too got a whiff of it. She brimmed up with rage and curiosity. Who was the one who had dared to insult her, defy the laws set by her and gain power? The witch followed the trail that Alice’s had power had left behind and in no time she was flying over the village sitting on her broomstick.

In the village, the sky changed colors. It looked as if black velvet had covered the white pearls, the stars in the sky. The sky churned and announced the fury of the approaching storm. Suddenly, the sky was filled with an evil cackle. Everybody got out of their houses. Everyone, including Alice. Something black swooped on the ground. It landed with a soft thud. The witch had arrived.

She spewed out words, as malignant as venom, “Who is the one who has the guts to defy me? Who is the one who attains po
wer from following one’s passion?’ Not a single person replied. Annoyed, the witch pointed her crooked finger towards a pile of wood and a fire sparkled up to life. The witch examined all the faces in the light of the fire. She enjoyed what she saw – fear on their faces and terror in their eyes. She looked around with an evil grin on her face, satisfied with her achievement. But one small face stared back at her straight into her slimy yellow eyes. That face was resplendent with courage. Her eyes shone with confidence as they sent forth a warning signal to the witch, “Don’t you dare mess with me. I have my family and my friends right by my side. There is no way you can bring harm to us!” Those were Alice’s eyes.

‘You, there!” croaked the witch. “Where do you get your vain courage from? Tell me, do you have a passion close to your heart from where you derive your strength?” she asked Alice out of c
uriosity. Alice replied with her inner calm, “Yes, I love reading, so what? Nobody can ever take my story books away from me because they are a part of me.” “Well then, stop it! Otherwise great evil will befall you. Do not ignore my laws! You have no right to!” said the witch, her voice shaking with ire that made her rough voice sound even more unbearable. She could feel Alice’s power.

At the same time, Alice had no intention of doing that. In fact, the poor child was not even aware of the fact that she had some special powers within her that burgeoned day by day Instead of replying or apologizing, as the witch had expected, she just looked at the witch in anger, her eyes full of determination which clearly
meant ”No”. The witch looked at her scornfully and vanished as suddenly as she had arrived, in a red cloud.

Everyone looked at Alice and assured her that no harm would come to her as long as they were there, ‘together’. So, Alice went back to her room and went under the covers in her cozy bedroom. The next day, she woke up a little late than her normal time wo
ndering if the happenings of the previous night were just a nightmare. She could not hear any sound. No birds chirped, no children screamed and no aroma floated in the air. She went downstairs, scared, and called out to her parents “Mom! Dad! Where are you?” She looked around but neither could she see her mother cooking in the kitchen nor her father puffing his pipe while reading the newspaper, perched on his favorite armchair. She ran out of the house, calling out to her friends. No one replied. She ran around in panic and soon she reached the massive oak gate that marked the entrance of her village. Outside, she heard a muffled gurgling sound.

She stepped outside slowly. What she saw made her go weak in the knees. It made her want to cry and run away as fast as she can.  Her parents, friends and other villagers were tied to stakes. They all looked like zombies, with white eyes and yellowish skin, and open mouths. All of them were drooling. It reminded her of the picture of zombies t
hat she had seen in one of her storybooks. Next to them, there was a small pile of unused stakes. Alice stared at them helplessly, not knowing what she should do with them to help her people. She buckled on the ground, tears streaming through her eyes. But Alice was a brave girl. Her father had always taught her to fight the situation with all her might, come what may. So, soon, she pulled herself together and thundered in rage, “Where are you, you witch?”

Suddenly a shrill, hoarse cackling came from the other side of the village. Alice examined the direction from where the sound seemed to be coming from. The sound stopped abruptly. Again the cackling started. But this time it was from a different corner of the village. Then, the horrible sound surrounded the entire village. Alice was filled with revenge when she hollered, “Come out, you coward! Come out and face me!” Alice expected the witch to a
ppear in front of her but nothing happened. Again she shouted, “If you are brave enough, come out and face me!” Suddenly there was a puff of putrid smelling red smoke. The witch showed herself and yelled out in the most infuriating voice imaginable, “What’s the matter Alice? Where are you friends and family? Oh! I’m so sorry my dear, they seem to be a little tied up at the moment!” and she let out a hoarse laughter. Alice asked her “What did you do to them?” “Oh nothing my dear! Just punishing them for something that you said to me. Tit for tat, you know?” And then, a moment of silence followed.

Gaining her strength, Alice said, “Well fine! Now I’m going to play with my other friends.” Alice’s sharp brain was working out a risky yet a winning plan. “Others! Who others? There’s no one out there!” said the witch, taken aback. Alice noticed the witch’s weakness immediately – the element of surprise. The witch conti
nued, “I will suck out these people’s souls and leave them with no emotion. These are the same people whom you love so much and from whom you have received love all your miserable life. Now they will work for me.” The witch flashed an obnoxious smile. Her holed teeth dangled from her gums as they gaped out of her open mouth. Her breath reeked of stale flesh and blood.

After observing Alice’s face for a while, the witch made an o
pportune move, “But, if you give me your power, I will bring them back to normal and leave you all alone. It’s your choice, my dear Alice,” the witch said in a mellifluous voice. To her surprise, for the second time, Alice’s plain, simple and straightforward answer remained the same, “Never! In any case, I can kill you anytime I want!” she said. “Kill me? Hah! You cannot. I am immortal! My soul is in the body of a raven, whom you can never kill!” Alice replied, “Raven? I can’t see any raven around?” Suddenly the air was filled with a harsh cawing sound. The witch’s soul had arrived. “So what?” said Alice on seeing the black, evil bird with a long black beak and searching eyes. She exactly knew what she would do next.

“I can still kill you, just as how I read in a book!” she said. “What! Its given in a book that if you want to kill a witch you must have to drive a stake through her heart and wring the neck of the raven?” blabbered the witch, clearly scared that her little secret was now an open book. Little did she realize that she had been tricked into letting out her own secret.

Now Alice knew how to kill the witch. Her plan had worked! The witch, in the meantime, had calmed down a bit but Alice still didn’t know how to retrieve the villagers’ souls. So she made her next move, “Yes, that book also told me how to retrieve the souls.” Now the witch looked ready to faint and as she stammered, “Those disgusting pages have also mentioned that you have to just open my black handbag? I don’t believe this!” Alice let that sink in. A stake through the witch’s heart, her raven with his neck wringed and her handbag. The last bit did amuse her though. But since the witch was in a deep shock, Alice got down to work immediately. She grabbed one of the sharpest stakes from the pile and ran towards the witch. The witch didn’t know what was coming. She stared at the stake with widened eyes and before she could react, in the next minute, her eyeballs rolled backwards as she slumped to the ground. The first deed was accomplished. The black raven, seeing his master fallen on the ground, perched himself on her trying to peck her out of her slumber.  Alice, then caught the raven, closed her eyes and wrung its neck. It was a disgusting sight, the sight of two dead bodies, one of the dead witch and the other of the dead raven. Alice herself was covered with specs of blood. She felt giddy, looking at the sight and thinking of what she had just managed to do. But she had not accomplished her goal yet. She had her family and friends to rescue.

She looked around for the handbag, but couldn’t find any. She knew she would have to show the courage and rummage through the witch’s ugly and dirty cloak. She did just that and finally found a black satin bag. She opened it and tiny, bright balls of light flew right out of it. Each one entered one of the villagers mouth, still open and drooling. Alice quickly cut the ropes and suddenly, one by one, the villagers, her parents and friends woke up. Still in a daze, they looked at each other and asked Alice what had ha
ppened, for she had started crying out of sheer happiness and fatigue. After hearing her story amongst her sobs, everyone huddled up together and gave Alice a warm hug filled with gratitude.

Suddenly, Alice felt very stuffy. She threw her covers back, opened her eyes and looked around. She found herself at home, on her bed. The birds were chirping, the children were playing happily and the aroma of freshly baked bread floated in the air. Alice ran downstairs and found her mother cooking in the kitchen and her
father puffing his pipe, reading the newspaper perched on his favorite armchair. She ran towards them and gave each of them a warm, tight hug.

Thought it was a mere nightmare, it had taught Alice her le
ssons. She realized how lucky she was to be surrounded by her parents whose boundless love for her would never fade away, her friends who cared for her and the people of the village who made the village a home. She had realized her own powers. She had realized the worth of reading. She had experienced the magic of knowledge.

For a moment, she had lost it all, her parents, her friends and the villagers. She had gone through the pain and turmoil of the experiencing the loss. She had lived though that moment. Yet, she was a winner because this dream had taught her to value what she possessed, be it people of her books. She looked heavenwards and thanked God for the things that he had provided her with and said a small prayer.

It was the power of the prayers from one and all which had evoked a sense of goodness in people’s hearts and driven the evil spirit away. She made a promise to pray regularly and send a note of thanks to the almighty.

Who knew, the dream might have been real, the witch might have existed, may be the collective power of the villagers drew her away, or may be it was Alice who had driven the witch away. No one would know…

But at the end of the day, everything was alright, everything was normal. And she was just another girl…