The Gift
My parents are a little too superstitious. I have had a very hard time making them understand the same. They get very worried when a black cat crosses their path. Mistakenly walking under a ladder gets them petrified, as if at the very next step ,misfortune awaits. They want me to pray thrice a day, to keep evil spirits away from me. I found the very idea nonsensical.
The only person in our family who was not so repulsively superstitious was my uncle Stephen. It was he, who persuaded Dad to allow me to wear the fashionable black clothes. I regarded him alot and he loves me like his own child. By profession, he wss a journalist and he travelled around India as a part of his profession. In his travels, he often brought me gifts and I, appreciating modern non-superstitious gifts, was always excited for him to return with those.
Two weeks ago, he left for Agra, which was once the capital of the Mughal Empire and the place where the Taj Mahal was located. Taj Mahal is one of the seven wonders of the modern world and Uncle Stephen had promised that he would bring me its
replica. Today, he was supposed to return, and as you may have imagined, I was a little more ,than a little excited.
But I also felt worried. My parents had gone to pick him up and his flight should have landed two hours ago. Yet there was no sign of him. My parents had not taken me with them because my exams were to begin the next week( and because 'evil spirits' could affect me when I not at the safe haven called home.)
So, here I was, studying in my room waiting for a knock on the door. Waiting for three hours had made me quite restless. The absence of any sound made me more so. Suddenly, I heard a howl, then a bark. A noisy collection of barks, howls and eerie cries followed. I went out of my room and peeped out of the window, only to see many dogs behaving in an unusual manner,some making all kinds of eerie sounds, some shivering as if they were frightened. I wasn't a fan of dogs, much less of eerie barking stray dogs.
I decided that stepping out of the house was dangerous. Though the outer wall and the lawn did lie between the dogs and me, there was a chill in the air which made me hesitate in stepping out. I turned back to return to my room when, all of a sudden, there was knock on the door. I had been waiting for the knock, for a very long time. The fear and hesitation vaporized instantly and I ran for the door. I didn't take time to think how there could be a knock on the door with the only person in the house compound being me and no one opening the gate on the outer wall.
I opened the door, there was no one outside. No human, for sure. It was then ,that the fear returned and took over me again. The dogs were still there.A dog looked me in the eye. It hesitated, then lowered its eyes, apparently look at something close to my feet. I lowered my eyes and saw something shocking. The gift, it was lying on the doormat.
I picked it up and examined it. It undoubtedly was the best replica of the Taj Mahal I could imagine. It then seemed to me that perhaps, my family was playing games with me. I called their names as loud as I could but got no replies. A dog barked loudly. I got scared and ran to my room with the replica, banging the front door behind me.
I kept the replica on my bed, looking around, trying to comprehend what was happening. The sounds of the dogs subsided. Silence took over. The silence was shattered by the blow of our car's horn. I ran for the door almost falling, out of hurry. As I opened the door, I saw Mom opening the gate, allowing the car to enter the house compound. She closed the gate while Dad parked the car and stepped out of the it. 'Where is Uncle Stephen?', I thought. I looked at my parents, confused, but found their faces to be very stern. I could tell they were hiding something from me. I told that I knew they were playing games with me but still got no reply. Dad walked towards me, his face still stern. He placed his hand on my shoulder and said,"Son, you Uncle has crossed the boundaries of this realm. His plain crashed in the suburbs of Ranchi."
I ran back, towards my room and looked at the replica. The figure of the monument of love symbolized dread. Perhaps the only elder in our family, who did not believe in spirits, was now a spirit himself.
~ASM
THANK YOU for reading :)
