It was an unusual place. The kind of places that inherently mulls one into decrepitude. The only believable reason these places seem to exist are for the sake of history or folklores that keeps the town alive with a buzz that keeps one from enervation. While it may attract a globetrotter's attention, these kind of places are mostly left vacant without plausible signs of physical presence.
Wild grass emerging from the solid structures on different areas of the surface. The environment blended eloquently with the giant rustic gate at the entrance of the town. Instinctively, it appeared that the anarchic impressions on the gate had been severed through times of wars and invasions which had cast a spell of gloom that permeated with the burgeoning enigma of the place.
Moving into the place, from all that my senses could gather, I noticed there was barely any person who wasn't dressed in white. Men were occupied in their own activities, there were hardly any women outside except a few dressed in beige coloured saris who walked incessantly with heavy jute bags in their hands. There was a child sitting on a Tonga impatiently looking at the stranded bus station for visitors. There was no interaction between people. It was becoming dreary with each step. It was hard to come across a face that was not drowning in helplessness of existence. It was becoming difficult to walk further without being consumed by the paucity of humanistic virtues. I slumbered to my imagination to save myself from the disquietude of my mind. The questions were unanswered. How the town would be like if the clouds of barrenness had not reigned over the town. The barren times had called upon complacency as its only friend. A collective grief was the only comfort the town folks afford to put up with. The questions trembled.
Moving forward in the rural setting after walking quietly for twenty minutes, there was finally a resonance of life. I could hear waning sounds of a temple's bells. It was a relief to finally hear signs of life after an hour of dead walk. It was prayer time. I took my shoes off, walked up the stairs and entered the temple like a hostage set free from captivity. The place was reverberating with a stimulating affect. The echoing sounds didn't meet the number of devotes in the temple as I had expected. It was eerie. I moved towards the Pandit who read the mantras nonchalantly. Before I could ask anything he lifted his arm and pointed towards the hollow opening in the temple wall which was constructed around the tree. He kept reciting his prayers without a pause. The shoots of the old tree went across the walls of the hollow exit. I obediently walked out of the crevice. The darkness of the narrow cave was eliminated by the splendid view of open ground stretched over a mile.
There were spacious compartments and enclosures of water structures where people dipped in as some kind of a ritual. It was strange. Despite having acres of free space and enclosures of water, all the villagers had queued up around a single compartment to take a dip. It was little do with a ritual but more of penance to wish away the mishaps on town depleted of hope and answers.
The folk took turns in numbers. It had almost become a display of valour for the men who arrived at the same point everyday to participate in a ceremony that involved holding down their breath for the sake of the saving the village from doomsday. The shades of struggle were clear. The old men were expectant of vain attempts, the women were muzzled with a tinge of hope and the young lean men were intensely focused and energetic in their aquatic pursuit. The children playing around in circles were unperturbed by the daily happenings. The grave faces of village was allusive of spilling death like the empty government office that ticked off as white building in the midst of the scrubby unidentifiable roads. This place spoke a different jargon than the Pandit who ceaselessly recited his mantras.
All the panting soldiers on the sideline of the compartments had called it a day. The white towels had blended right in with austerities of the place. My inquisition was met with a appraisal. I was invited to partake in activity by the elders. It was followed by chuckling youth who looked down upon a skinny city boy who looked too fragile to test the waters. I was deeply involved in the proceedings to take a step back would be impiety so I had to agree. The group of men instructed me with a set of commandments. It was clear. I had to hold my breath, focus on evoking the well being of the world for peace and prosperity.
It was time. I took a long exasperated breath and dipped my head inside. Sat inside the pool with a fixed posture. The chanting and the noise of crowd had got me all hyped up. For a moment, I didn't question my own actions. I was there, doing something, I had not ever dreamt of. All the calculations of my mind finally came to an end with reckoning that I couldn't hear the noise of crowd anymore. It was then I saw a lady setting adjacent to the water structure who looked battered like she was subjected to something unpleasant. It was then she spoke of returning. I was freezed in my posture. She looked right into my eye and I saw a streak of light becoming bigger and bigger as she disappeared from the pond. It all happened so quick I realised I was breathing under water. I had a death wish.
The villagers saw my hands go up and I was beginning to loose my strict posture, this was when they pulled me up by my arms and got me on the sidelines. It was clear. They had realised something about my vision without listening to a word of it. The lady had disappeared. The word spread the town. Before I could rejoice the heroics, I was thrown out of my slumber.
This is not what Sunday afternoons are for. My mother asked me to stop sleeping. She kept Tulsi leaves beside my bed and asked me to consume it with a glass of water. Tulsi is supposed to bring relief from respiratory problems. I was bedraggled. I had no health issues. The woman trapped in my visions had envisioned my sufferings. It was to step to grow out of my present nature to which I was reluctant. It was close but it never happened. I bet the villagers would not have believed it, neither would the lady at home who practised her morning rituals with bowing down to the sun in reverence. From one dream to another, I had an eternal death wish that never happened.
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