By Agrima Arya
When Amit woke up in the morning and looked at his face in the mirror, he didn’t recognise the face looking back at him. “This is not me!” he cried aloud. He had black patches under his eyes, his face had gone pale, his head had turned irregular in shape. The last thing he remembered was crying his eyes out beside his bed while his family performed the last rites of his grandmother who had succumbed to cancer the day before. He didn’t realize when sleep had overtaken him amidst his grief and loss. He was just a boy of 13, completely new to losing someone so dear. He hadn’t even wrapped his head around the fact that grandma was no more and here he found himself in another tragedy. Now wide awake, he rushed towards his mother but she was nowhere to be found. The house was spic and span but completely empty as if it were at a standstill. He found himself in an entirely helpless state, gasping for air. To add to the little boy’s misery, Amit’s parents were not at home. He ran towards the gate, only to find it locked. The boy was about to give in to his emotions when an idea struck his mind. He jumped out of the house through the window to seek help from his neighbour, Mrs Charles. To his surprise, the entire city was quiet as if no soul resided there. It was almost a scene of apocalypse with this little boy stranded in a lifeless city. He became more frightened as negative thoughts started striking his mind. Amit started shouting and screaming for help at the top of his lungs just for no one to respond to. His voice echoed through the deserted streets, a lonely cry in the eerie silence. Panic swelled within him. He thought maybe a storm had hit the area, and people had left to save their lives, leaving him stranded. Or worse, some unseen force had wiped out everyone. Thinking of these terrifying possibilities, he stumbled down the street, his heart pounding hard. He passed houses with curtains drawn, windows dark and lifeless. The usually bustling shops were shuttered, their signs drooping in the stillness. It was as if time had stopped, leaving only him in this desolate, dreamlike world. He felt a shiver crawl down his spine, not just from fear, but from the unnatural cold that seemed to have gripped the city.
Suddenly, a sound broke the silence – a faint, rhythmic thumping. He followed the sound, his hope flickering. It led him to an alleyway, where he saw it – a small, wooden door, slightly ajar. With trembling hands, he pushed it open.
Inside was a dimly lit room, filled with dust motes dancing in a single shaft of light. In the center, an old woman sat hunched over a spinning wheel, her face obscured by the shadows. As Amit watched, she turned towards him, and he gasped.
It was his late grandmother, her face etched with worry, but her eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “Amit!” she exclaimed, her voice raspy but warm.
Amit stared, bewildered. “Grandma?” he stammered, “But you were….how is it possible?”
His grandmother chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. “You have arrived in the land of the dead, my dear child,” she said, her voice soothing. “A very vivid one, it seems.”
She gestured towards a chair. “Come, sit. I’ll make you some hot cocoa.”
As Amit sat down, his fear began to recede, replaced by a sense of relief so profound it made him dizzy. He looked around the room, at the familiar objects, the scent of woodsmoke and cinnamon, and realized with a jolt that it was all real.
His grandmother's words echoed in his mind: “Land of the dead.”
He closed his eyes, the memory of the nightmare fading, replaced by the warmth of the fire and the comforting presence of his grandmother. Grandma comes in with cocoa and wake Amit up. Amit was extremely astonished and overwhelmed. “Where are we” “how did I come here” “what is this about the land of dead” “don’t do this Grandma, it’s not funny anymore” “let’s go back now, it’s dark” “dad was crying so much” “please let’s go now”….
“I can’t leave this place anymore” she said “and nor can you” further added. Amit got more confused and anxious, “What do you mean you can’t leave this place and neither can I?”. Grandmother took a seat near Amit and sat down with her hands folded. It was almost dark outside. The smell of freshly brewed cocoa filled the room. Grandma continued “well Amit you see, you didn’t want to let me go and that’s why you’ve ended up in the land of the dead to live with me. That’s so good, right? You won’t have to attend school anymore, no one will force you to study, your mom won’t nag and I’ll make delicious food and drinks for you here”. Amit looked dead into her eyes and asked “so I can never go back to mumma papa again?”
Grandma put her arms around Amit and whispered softly “you can’t choose both, Amit. You will have to make a choice between the land of dead and the land of living. You will have to let go of one hand to get hold of the other. That's how life works.” Amit had no clue what to say or how to react to this information. He started sobbing again. Poor boy was not in a mental condition to make a rational decision of choosing a side there. “What should I do, Grandma? Whom should I choose? I love you all equally. I don’t want to leave you but I want to see mumma papa again. And my friends….they bully me at times and they don’t let me bunk lectures but I like hanging out with them. Mrs. Charles has an annoying voice but she’s always kind to me and I love their dog. There is so much I want to do. I want to travel and make new friends and buy lots of stuff for everyone. Oh and I also want to fall in love with a beautiful girl like you and have many kids. You see, I also want to be a grandad someday. Dad promised he would gift me an electric cycle on my next birthday and mom… mom nags a lot but you know granda, mom cried the most when I hurt my leg. Well, way more than I cried myself though. I don’t want to leave them all. Please grandma please “.
“That’s very sweet Amit but like I said, you can not have both sweetheart” Grandma said with tears in her eyes. She continued “Listen Amit, you are too young to learn this but life is not very kind to all. We mature as we age but some people mature way earlier because of events they have been through. Consider this conversation that very event, and this lesson as the last lesson you’ll receive from grandma.”
“Why are you saying tha-“ Amit exclaims as he continues to sob.
“Shhhh, let me finish first. So, Amit, here onwards you will always get two choices. To do and to not do. To choose and to not choose. And whatever you decide to do or choose will decide your path of line. You can not choose to have or do both. That would not only be unfair but also pretty boring, right? People aren’t homes, they never will be. People are rivers, always changing, forever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them. You need to embrace these rivers till however long they stay and then, let go of them when he decide to leave. You’re nothing but fragments of droplets from all the rivers you come across because they become a part of you. Today, when you let go of me, you’ll keep my inside of you in the form of fragments of all the memories we share. You need to let go of one hand in order to get hold of the other, remember? Now, wipe off your tears and go. Go to your parents, your home, your friends, your future wife and those “many” kids of yours. I’ll always be with you whenever you decide to show kindness, empathy and love because those are the fragments I’m passing on to you, Amit. Grandma will love and cherish you forever, my baccha”. She kisses Amit on his forehead and lets him give in to his sweet slumber of sleep again.
It was 7pm, Amit had woken up, not in a deserted city, but in the safety of his own home, safe in the arms of his family. His cheeks still wet from the crying. He sat there for an hour contemplating what all had happened and he realised that sometimes you find new sides to families that you’ve known since forever. Well, the nightmare for him was over. The sweetest nightmare.
He went to the kitchen, hugged his mother and said “I’ll make you some hot cocoa, mom.”
By Agrima Arya
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