Mala

By Disha Sharma

Chapter1

She was holding her breath back. Uncross...Open them up...Yeah, open them. Stretch them to make a wide ‘V’...yeah...stay like that...relax. Now, can you feel it.... A sudden silence...Um...Um...Yes. Ohh! Yes, I can feel it...how is it going? You like it…right...she gave a notorious smile stretching her neck.

With the first thrust, she opened her eyes...completely scared, drops of sweat on her forehead, heart pumping blood out and in faster, she took her hand forthwith in between her legs and found the wetness. She was awed with what had happened and what had not; got off from bed and simply turned on her heels to the kitchen. Putting bread into the toaster, she was lost in her family memories.

Mala was an orphan, who was adopted by a sweet couple Mr. and Mrs. Vijay Bose. She had been brought up by all the affections and love which a single child could have. She beheld the death of her parents and was now living all alone. Her life abounds with the silence, with the incongruity of certain queries of her mind. Remembering the cold stormy day, when the family shifted to Ohio Streets of Canada, she complained to her father that the apartment looks so dark, and how the father advised to close the eyes and chant ‘AUM’. She was too young to understand when the father said that light belongs to the soul and not to the eyes while secretly indicating the mother, who dragged the curtain and then asked Mala to open her eyes. The clapping, the laughing and the jumping of that small girl brought smile on the parent’s countenance. The buzzer buzzed and the sound pierced into the dense web of her memories and screamingly reached her ears, reverting her back to the toast. She turned on the television and started looking for the remote.

‘...of the hundreds of people that attempt to climb the Everest every year, only about thirty percent succeed. The biggest problem is bad weather. Oh...of course, the temperature at the summit averages minus 36 degree Celsius but can drop as low as minus 60 degree celcius. This can freeze the skin, causing frost bite. Toes are the first to...’

‘...because I believe that there is no problem that cannot be solved by genuine good will on both sides, the concrete wall and...’ Eating each bite of the grub, she pressed the button to satiate herself. ‘...Hey, watch out...look at his creepy movements. I think its planning something. You know what, Spiders sense the world around them through their hair, which can detect tiny vibrations. If threatened a Tarantula brushes its legs against its body. Hey, he is heading towards that female spider...I think that was his plan...of mating...’ She anguishly changed the channel. ‘...The centennial Olympics will be in Atlanta, Georgia...’ Buzz...Buzzz...She left the food and went to open the door, grabbed the knob and opened the door. She saw nobody. She turned. Boooo. She was stunned. She yelled “Alex”.

Alex was childhood friend of Mala, both of them got acquainted because of family’s friendship. Alex’s family is next door neighbors to Mala. Though Alex has been reared by his father alone, has never happened to miss his Mother who comes out to be a disloyal wife for his Father and Mother to him. He always despises his Mother on that account.

Alex had a great liking for Mala since their school life, where on every girl in school is envious of Mala’s charming face and beautiful glowing skin, simultaneously Mala’s voluptuous body is the subject of mockery to many girls, especially when she was attaining maturity at eighth standard. The growing breasts and a curvy figure, usually makes her the object of discussion for everyone in the class. It was all with Alex only that Mala could have borne those tough years of schooling. The love and liking for Mala, never shudders him to flirt with other girls in his office. He is moderately a flamboyant boy with great etiquette and love for Mala.

“You scared the hell out of me, Alex” said Mala bluntly. “It’s good to be scared at times”, said Alex (hugging her). “So, finally you thought of me...come...shall I get you something?” “I always think of you Mali and No I do not need anything except you” said Alex flirtingly. He held her in his arms and made her sit. “C’mon, sit...this time, I have really crop up with something really...indubitably important. I do not know how you would turn back...Mala but okay...This is all...” He gasped and knelt before her, offering her a solitaire ring. “Oww...Alex, get up...I thought we were just friends,” answered Mala in a squelching manner. “Of course, we are friends but would that be wrong if we level up our friendship to a more defined relation...” “It’s just not that...” untangles Mala. Then, tell me what it is...Mala” exclaims Alex. “Um...um look Alex, I had never felt attracted towards you….” “Oh! So you love somebody else, right?” “No, Alex...it’s not like that even...” “Would you mind clearing me a bit Mala”, asked Alex tempestuously. “Alex, you are pressing my nerves now...you would never understand”. Mala turned her back to him and entered the other room and slammed the door on him. He stood there for a while and left.

Chapter2

Being completely exasperated, she opened the book, which is the only way she seeks solace. She reads for hours. She is an avid reader of animal books. While reading, she heard the clap of thunder. Dragging the curtain, she found the grey weather and low clouds. She decided to go out. Placing the chair in the balcony, she sat observing the nature. The light air brushes her hair around her shoulders, making her look even more beautiful. She is buxom, fair, busty, tall...any men could have fallen for her. No one likes her in the whole town for she is what every man desires. Though she lived at the outskirts of Ohio, yet everyone in the city knows about her. She laid her head back on the edge of the chair and faces the sky.

“...Is it paining...she groaned with pleasure. She felt certain jerks ...and felt the exit and the entrance... the voice lowered down and turning heavy. Tell me...what’s happening...she is hoping...ohh! she felt sticky...”

The heavy rain started battering against her face and she woke up. She stood there in balcony, drenching herself, trying to get hold of things. Then she realized that she squirted. She was getting nowhere. The rain stopped. Everything was calm, silenced. Light appeared. White sky. No birds. No sign. Head still. Eyes wide, rolling from left to right. Mala and the sky. The Sky and Mala. A sudden goose of Sun’s light flashes her eye. She squeezed her eyes with force, unless she heard some voices. She then glimpsed at the group of girls giggling, passing by. Waiting for them to look at her she passed a smile to them. Those girls being weiry of Mala, snorted at her and passed away. There were rampant rumors about Mala in the town about her age and youth.

Mala was running twenties when her parents died. By the time, she had reached thirty-eight, eking out all alone, single not married, and no companion and above all in that age of ending thirties not having a single sign of ageing. She is still young, full of charm, energy, beauty, clear-stretched face, and the natural blush, not also attacked or fallen prey to any of the diseases. It was not only Mala’s unnatural, strange visions but also her age that has occupied her attention and has been the cause of her isolation and interminable melancholy.

She came inside and prepared a drink for herself. She raised her glass and said ‘cheers’ probably to the walls. Holding the drink in one hand and tucking the pyjamas with the other, she strolled towards the antique music player. Turned on the saddest music she glided, jolting her upper body. She joyfully drips the water from clothes as if dripping worries and intentionally foots over as if crushing all of them. She was tired of the boring ritual. She subtly places herself on the chair. She downed her drink in one gulp. Roused to her chair, she came to her room, changed and then sat on the bed under quilt, picked on her pen and started writing the journal.

There were only three real friends of her; the books-to which she listens; pen and paper–who listens what she has to say and ultimately the four walls that carries the burden of her endless cries and thwarts them from getting out. It is just the thirst for knowledge that enchants her towards net-surfing. She removed her writing material and laid it on the side box, slipped inside the quilt and closes her eyes. The moment she closes her eyes, she had visions of those weird dreams, she at once got up and propped her back against the headboard. Being afraid of those visions, she turned on the lights and sat in a lull. She thought of calling Alex, picked up her cell phone, dialed his number and cut it off before it rang.

“Mala, what the hell is happening to you? Why did you reject Alex? He is so loveable, respectful to you and above all the only person who claims to love you. Even you like him...but I do not love him...are you waiting for someone else, Moron?” she asked herself impatiently. “You, moron you are thirty-eight and still single!” There was quiescence for a while...“If it is so then I must check it out” she nodded indifferently.

She took out her book and started reading it. Without any intentions of sleeping, she fell asleep and after a long while she had a sound sleep. The beauty of the night is in the dark, the day has got too much spark, for the light pierces the eye and disturbs the mind. The night has a soothing balm that precedes the dawn, for the shade brings peace and Shields the ills.

Chapter3

Rubbing her eyes, looking blearily at the bedside clock, she throws the quilt. “It’s 10 o’clock in the morning?” She rushed to freshen up and dressed up with alacrity to move out in the search of love of her life. She got ready in the best of her clothes. As she was ready to leave, she got reminded of the chair that was left in the balcony the last day, and decided to keep it inside. The moment she stepped out from the roof of the house into the open shade of the Sun, she immediately crossed her hands to cover the skin from the piercing scorching rays of the Sun. She slowly tried to peep through the gapped fingers to get a look of the Sun and to her surprise, she was looking at the Sun with her eyes fixed on His, claiming some dearful connection with Him. It is only with the flying crows that the contact was broken between them and suddenly she realizes that she has to go.

She left the house and walk off her feet. Within couple of moments the weather changed entirely and she found herself bowing her head against the relentless wind. Though the weather is not well, streets are crowded with people walking hurriedly to and from appointments. She felt a surge of excitement as her feet lightly kissed the ground. She started heading towards the club REIGN. As she stepped inside, she stumbled and almost fell. Her mesmerizing beauty was in fact enough to get the sedulousness of others while her felling down got her in to the attention of almost every one. She pushed her way through the crowd to get herself a drink. The table was empty. “Hello”. No answer to her call.

Certainly a man from her back approaches her. “Can I get you a drink?” He asked politely. “Oh...yeah” she responded in the same way. “By the way my name is Ron”...”Hey, I am Mala”. Mala’s acquainting herself is followed by a big laughter. “Mala…this is how you pronounce it?” asked Ron laughingly. “Yes...do you have any objection?” said Mala angrily.“Um ...um...extremely sorry, Ma'am,” apologized, Ron holding back his laughter. “You have no right making fun of my name Mr. Ron, you better take it seriously” admonished Mala. “Okay” said Ron raising his hands. “So, Mala... never saw you here before...” “Yes, I am here for the first time”.

She deviated herself from the talk and looks at her finger nails. The Neon–blue paint is frazzled. Mala becomes conscious and dragged her hands from the table, curled the fingers and placed on the lap. Ron was observing Mala and her consciousness. “What you looking for here? I mean you do not seem to come here for mere fun” said Ron curiously. “Yes...I am looking for a man” “A Man ...?” said Ron awestruck. He was astonished by her bold revelations. “What? Why are you looking at me like this?’ said Mala surprisingly. “No...Um...I am sorry. Well if I am not wrong you are looking for a date ...” “Yes”. “So, you found someone?” “I just came” said Mala. Ron nodded. They both turned their heads astray. She-in a moment to look for a guy, and he-in a confusion how to hook her up. Both pair of eyes wandered. She spotted someone.

“Do you find me handsome?” (she turned her head back) Mala gave a perfunctory look at Ron and nods a ‘yes’. “No, a kind of dream man– a dream date? Why can’t we both try for it? I mean If you say...so?” asked Ron. “You mean...we together?” He shrugged. Mala sighed. “Look Ron, I have a clear cut strategy of Five-Days Date, I mean...for the first five days of our friendship...no sex, no intimacy and after these five days...Um...if I get attracted towards you, we will proceed and start with our relationship and all the ...” “Wa...Wa...wait...Are you trying to say that you are going to check me out for the five-days and after those days if I will not stand to your EXPECTATIONS, you dump me...” said Ron in an over emphasizing manner. “Listen, Ron, you are over-reacting and it’s not about checking you out rather it’s about me...God–Damnit” says Mala exasperatedly. I...am ...really sorry Mala (dragging his chair, he got up and left).

Her drink arrived. She raised her glass and finished in one long swallow. She moved her eyes on each face. Her vacant eyes grabbed every fascinating personality but found no eyes, no face, and no lips that would call her feet to come close and approach. From that day on, she did not stop trying her impulses. She went to parties, to strippers, to clubs but at last found nothing. Years have passed but not even a single wrinkle on her countenance, not even a single hair turned gray, not even a single tooth was misplaced, not even her vision had fade. She was as beautiful as she was in her twenties. But, all this was getting disgusted on her. WHAT EVERY WOMAN HAD WISHED PROVED FUTILE FOR HER.

Chapter4

Returning home from a party, she was all tired. She threw her heels, left her bag aside, undressed herself and laid on bed... “...all dark, she could feel the soft lips touching her ear...breath swaying her hair, hair resting on her cheeks...brushing her neck the heavy warm breath...can you feel my hand...? Can you hear my heart pumping fastly...? can you smell my strong presence...getting way through her legs...the fingers playing with her skin...”

She came to her senses and abruptly opened her eyes. She was all alone and again she passed out. Multifarious visions. Multifarious questions. Multifarious mysteries. All jostling towards a more dense web of her mind. Disturbed by frequent emerging grossed visions, led her brain and soul in consternation. It’s been years, she is trying to get hold of her life, all her efforts to grasp her identity as a human were smashed to dust. She watched out every possible opportunity for looking out on men but never felt a desire to be in some intimacy. For her, men are just the admirers of beauty not the one she would get ruptured by.

Being completely teed off; she sat on computer table and started surfing on net regarding people like her. She searched, searched and searched but found only one thing written in a tab NO RESULT FOUND. She gave a blow to the monitor in a frenzy...“Oouch…You know what, you are a waste...you give me creeps...and...and...you are a...just a fresco with a square shaped face, two ears that do not listen rather speaks, two legs; one long and other short that never ever moves”. She walked towards the kitchen, “I will rip you into parts”.

She got a bottle of wine and came back, she sipped it through the small opening...as she again had a fleeting look on the display, it flashed a picture that took her immersion massively. She started thinking about it. It was a flash of two girls. Sitting on the bed reposed with dilapidated eyes, mouth open, fingers curled over the neck of the bottle, placing it between the thighs. The rested other hand on the silk-tufted bed sheet is unmoved as if nailed to mattress, legs hanging. Mala reflected over her inner-direct. She is tousled. She shamed herself and cinched concurrently. “...maybe...if I had never felt aroused by any men...may be...am I of that kind...No...No...I cannot be”. She got off from bed, took her scarf and wore shoes and turned out of her house.

It was night. It was a few degrees above zero but the chill wind brought the temperature even below zero, rattling the leafless branches. The parts were covered with snow and Mala remembered the aforetime winter when she was playing chess with her father and her mother making fritters for them. She then went to close the window and looked around the streets. They were the same.

Trudging through the winds, she finally reached on the other end of the wide road facing towards the brothel. In bold letters was inscribed the name of the brothel-THE CHICS on its roof. Standing there for a while, completely unsure of what to do, she started sauntering towards the brothel. It was chaotic. She sees a girl sitting on a wooden fence talking to a man standing on the roadside; Couples sitting on tables having snacks and drinks, a girl sitting on man’s legs wavering hand on his face, and a girl in black net wrapper gown exposing breasts, skirmishes with a man on the front porch of the brothel. She struggled to her feet and went inside. The walls were blazed with red lights of the lamps placed in the two corners of the room, every room contained its own distinctive noises, flames of the smoke lingering in the warm ambience. She felt strongly suffocated and pushed her way out of it. She was now again on the road.

Getting acquainted with the fact that she would not have found what she wanted, she resumed her struggle and ultimately found herself standing outside the Bar. There was nobody on the road and the bar seemed to be quite calm, though it was open. It was a few steps down. It was evacuated. “Hello” is there anyone? Only an echo is heard, she toppled over a step. All what she could see were bare couches, tables laid with empty glasses, blue lighted walls, five rows of different labeled drinks, stark naked stools. She heard the footsteps of someone behind her, she turned back and a girl comes out of the darkness on one side of the bar counter. She flipped her hand on the wall besides her and jazzed up the room.

She was tall, whitish girl wearing blue jeans and a long coat up to knees...“What you doing here?” She asked drily. “Well I am Mala” and “I am Christine”. Both shook hands. Mala asked confusingly, “Why isn’t anybody here?” “Well it’s quarter–past–two in the morning and everyone is at work...” said Christine. “Ok...but” “What?” “Why did not you…I mean...Um” asked Mala hesitatingly. “Yeah...I am different...well are you feeling hungry?” “Oh! I am having pangs of hunger” said Mala heartedly “lemme get some food...” said Christine going upwards. She left and arranged grub and some red wine. Mala began to relax herself on the couch forgetting the frightened warnings wrapped in red silken cloth. Christine came and they started eating and talked about each other.

Least bothered about what Christine would think of her, Mala started exposing her personal life, about Alex, about her wanderings for men. “What do you do here?” asked Mala. “My Mom is the barmaid here and thus I accompany her... actually she used to be a whore but when she conceived me by some Englishman, she thought of giving birth to me and after I came in her life, she turned her profession and is now a bar-maid...You know she thought of me to take up her profession earlier but I just torn out her hopes into shreds and flushed it down.... But, you say, why you broke off with Alex...” Mala relaxes as she said, “It was just I had never felt that urge to be with him or with any guy in terms of intimacy...that’s how I came here to find out if I have a bent for girls...it’s just...just like that.” “Hmmm I can help you out.” said Christine wantingly.

Mala tightened her lips and looked doleful. “R... Really” mumbled bug-eyed Mala, but...” “Don’t worry, I would not mind.” said Christine gesticulating. They continued eating and shared a nice time together. After a long time, Mala had these long burst of laughters.

When they were done, Mala took Christine with her to her home. They rejoiced the long walk. She opened the door and let Christine in. “Woooo...Do you live alone in this big house” asked Christine surprisingly. She sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing on the sponge. Mala went to the kitchen and drew some wine and two glasses. She made her way towards the table and started pouring.

“No...No...Not yet, let’s get to work first”, said Christine. She took the glass from her hand and placed it down on the table. She held Mala from her back and puts arms around her. She moved her hand beneath her top and started embracing. Mala felt discomforted by her efforts, pulled herself away from her “Um...Um. Let me play some music” her voice strangled. She went towards the desk and started over-turning the drawers for music tapes in a panic. She then stopped and turned to see Christine. On seeing her getting undressed, she took a nervous breath. A wave of giddiness swept over her. She could feel her face getting red, her heart shriveling, her fingers and toes numb. As Christine moved towards Mala and approaches her, before she could start with anything, Mala puked and pushed Christine away.

Christine in a jiffy got a glass of water for her and meanwhile gets dressed up again. “I am extremely sorry’ repented Mala “C’mon... are you okay...?” said Christine. “Yeah...a bit” replied Mala. “So, I resolved your problem (picking up her bag)...I must leave now” said Christine gasply. “No...you can stay here...it’s pretty much dark and cold out” requested Mala. “Mala, I am used to it and nobody can harm me...remember I am DIFFERENT....”

They both burst into laughter and she parted away. Mala gave a sigh of relief. But for her emerging out from one problem is like stepping in to more viscous liquid of dilemma. She got off, took her gown from the closet and a towel and went to the loo. After taking a hot scalding bath, she came out. She slumped into the chair, leaned back and studied the ceiling. It was all the same; chandeliers dusted, floors scrubbed, crack on the edge, rugs clean, the brown door ajar, two closets, a round table and two chairs, a round table bed.

Chapter 5

“…held tightly in the strong arms, buried her head against warm chest...she felt the tongue feather down from her neck into the soft depths...the twisting of the tongue...sensations in the whole body ....making her come...with a groaning pleasure ...and then she screamed…”

On opening her eyes, she had water drops on her face, her lips were dried, her throat was even dry and rough, her watery eye keeps wandering and her breasts moved up and down. She was reckless. She gasped repeatedly. Her nerves were so taut that she was ready to scream. The strain of everything that was happening to her was unbearable. She forced herself to remain calm but all her trials proved vain and she exploded with a paroxysm of rage into number of innocent Mala’s. “I can’t stand it here all alone...how easy it would have been to join my parents...but, I cannot do that even...I cannot...I need to know,” she yelled with watery eyes.

Years have passed but for her a year passed is a day passed. She has seen generations after generation. Alex and Christine are dead by now. They had met their fatal ends but Mala has never quit trying every wit. Though, after making strenuous efforts for the resolution of mysteries of her life it never resulted in anything better for her. The frightening visions had also never stopped licking her eyes, making her dazed. She was exhausted with all this but had never rested her mind to peace, never left any skid row to try her heart, never left any book to read. Time was passing out but she was the same.

One day, while sitting in the balcony reading a book ‘Life is too short’, she certainly raised her hand and stared at it continuously. For a long time she took notice of the fair hand, started reading lines. She got stupefied on the inscription on her right hand, it was “FLY” which vanished as soon as she blinked.

She closed her book, got up and came inside, turned on the computer. She started surfing on the net. To her chagrin, again she found nothing. At last, she made a web page of her name and wrote everything related to her in it and then shared it online. All what she did, was for help. It conjured up some sort of hope in her. Every day, she used to go online and looked out for some useful information but everywhere she got mocked comments. Day and night she used to cruise on sites but nothing is to her blind alley. Ultimately she succumbed to her fate.

She got busy with her books, nature and the most entertaining habit for her was to stare at Sun for hours. It would become depressing for her, if clouds take the position and covers her Sun. After a long span of time, one day, when she was busy in her favorite entertainment, she got eventually disturbed by the intuitions of surfing net. She left her chair and ran quickly with hilarity. She turned the computer on, her breath jostling with one another, eyes that were fixed on the monitor wide–open, typed her ID and the password, scrolling the cursor down and down, found nothing.

Mala got demoralized. She was devastated. She closed her eyes, gnashed her teeth and heard a peal of blog. On watching with dilapidated eyes, clicked on the blog, a blog from Mr. Raj Tilak “I know your problem is somewhat different, so it requires a different solution. Actually my Guru can help you out in this matter. If you want a solution, come to the river Ganga in India, within next ten days”. Zupee...ee... Mala got excited forthwith and at the very moment took herself back and thought “Can that man help me out? or is it just a feign... No...Somebody must be duping me...I am not going. If it were to be true, why did not he mention his contact number and timing...it is sure to be a mislead.” She uttered rudely.

Chapter6

The idea of meeting that man had crept in her mind but who knows what resisted her. She spent eight days skirmishing with those weird flashes, her sighs, the age factor and the thought crawled in her dreams too, whether she reads a book, she cooks, while sipping coffee, made her to think only and lost in some other world instead of what she was doing. She lay curled up in her bed with the pillow and the bed-sheet twisted around her. The dark room, the voices, the touch, moving up and down, the pains, the screams, all seemed intolerable to her. She sat straight all breathless. She looked around; all quite. She got up hurriedly, packed her rucksack, took a cab from her home road to the airport and then was on her way to Haridwar for river Ganga. She was nervous if she could reach there in time. Arriving India, She then took a train to Haridwar from Delhi.

The rabble at the station looked all the more weird to her. It was all haphazard for her. The crowd is moving like thoughts crossing her mind. Finally, she managed to get into her coach. ‘Chai...Chai...Chai...’ “No thanks” she said politely. The vacant dry eyes wander vacillating over the mob from that horizontally grilled window.

‘Excuse–me’, Mala felt a tap on her shoulder and looked at the other side. “Beta-can you shift aside”. Mala looked at the old lady with dilated eyes. The gleamy grey eyes, grey hair tugged in to a bun, wrinkled wheatish skin, a black mole on the right profile of the face, brown purple dry small lips... “Hello”... “Can you hear me?” a deep furrow appeared on her forehead. “Um... Um...Yes, sure” said Mala leaving space.

Mala goggled the old lady, scouting the charisma of her physical appearance as if she went under the spell of that wizened soft skin. “Hello...I am Maria and this is my husband Steve,” said the old lady with the strangled voice, forwarding her hand to Mala. Mala advances with a smile, when came in contact with the old crinkled hand, got astonished. Scrutinizing the lines of that withered hand... “You are...?” asked the old lady.

The choked voice brought Mala back to the outside of her and she uttered “Mala”...“ I am Mala”. Zoooooom....zoooom....the siren blew, port ends the departure of the train. Facing the old lady, Mala still deeming at the old lady where the lady was talking squanderly but Mala despite blushing at times to the couple, is lost in her own world-thinking of that man and his Guru. Lights were on and she was on the lowest birth looking blearily outside the window.

She could not sleep throughout the night. The touch of the old lady’s hand is everlasting on her. It made her think of her old soul beneath the youth–filled flesh. She reached at the station another morning and came out of the train carrying the rucksack on her shoulders. She looked around the crowd and was amazed. She asked from the people the way to the river GANGA.

It’s 4’o clock in the morning and its hazy dark. She grabbed the rickshaw that escorted her to the river Ganga. “Have you ever come here, Madam ?” asked the driver curiously. “Actually…I have come to meet someone...” declared Mala. “Ok...Now, you have come here, you must take bath in the river...It is said to be of great importance. We people worship this river because of its piousness. It is said so whosoever takes bath here gets free of the evil and is ready for salvation...So, you must Madam.” “How do you worship the river?” asked Mala surprisingly. “Madam...here you go...we have reached and this is the river Ganga.” She looked at the wide spread river and the number of temples located one after the other. “Why isn’t there anybody?” asked Mala impatiently. “It’s winters Madam and the time of worshipping the River is 5’o clock. At 5’o clock, you will come to know the sacredness of the river.” Mala got off from rickshaw handing over some rupees to the rickshaw driver.

She strolled towards the river and was mesmerized by the glistening water of river for the moonlight is casting white light on its face. She sat down on one of the stairs and moved her eyes all over, but she was all alone there... “I knew it was fake” she told herself. From her left, a man wearing white dhoti and draped shawl, was coming towards her. She saw him and got up. Are you ‘Raj Tilak’ she asked at halts... “Yes” he said. “I am Mala.” She acquainted. “Oh! Good you are saved,” said Raj firmly. “Saved”...“Am I saved?”...“Was I leading a wasted life”...Mala repeated the words of Raj in her mind.

The word “SAVED” got embedded in her mind. “Was I in danger...I have been living so long at least three generations if I am saved...How long...” “Where’s your Guru” asked Mala. “We have to wait for him here...” ( he sat on the ground crossing his legs) “What does he do?” asked Mala. “He helps people like you” said Raj closing his eyes. “People like me...Are there many more like me...Who are we...what purpose are we living...where are the others...why did not I meet them until now... Probably, I will meet all of them here...that is why I am here ...who is ruling us...what is our end and when? Mala is puzzling with all these doubts in her mind. “What is the profession called?” asked Mala. There was a complete silence. No respond came to her rather she felt to hear. AUM...AUM...AUM...

Struggling with her boredom she was constantly gazing the wavering surface of the silver water. Her mouth was slack- jawed and she was startled to see a man emerging from water in crossed legs, wearing white dhoti. She turned to tell Raj but she found him standing and bowing to that man...he opened his eyes turned towards the God Sun and offered prayers...he approaches to both of them.

“Mala, he is my Guru” Guru Acharya Shiva. Mala bowed to him and he turned to his kutiya. Mala and Raj followed Guruji at some distance, Mala questioned Raj, “Why didn’t you introduce me to him?” she whispered “I have travelled miles and years fighting time, now you cannot put me off long...” Guruji entered the kutiya while Raj and Mala waited outside. Guruji called for Raj and Mala stepped inside with him.

It was a small room with no beds and two floor carpets; a single window, over which hung two white clothes. “Sit down” said Guruji. Mala sat while Raj stood beside him. A person entered the kutiya who whispered something to Raj and Mala turned back to look what was going, for that time Guruji kept an eye on Mala and then smiled. He asked Raj to turn off the lights and asked Mala if she can see something. Mala responded she could not see anything. Guruji laughed and asked Raj to turn on the lights.

“Remember Mala, light always belong to the soul not to the eyes” remarked Guruji. The banging of the manjiras started and Guruji left the place to attend the pooja of the river GANGA.

Mala who got dabbled into the words of Guruji is taken back to her family memories. The flashes of her father directing her mother to drag the curtains...the laughter...the jumps...the clapping...seemed to her pulling back to the trauma she had faced till now. It take Mala a few minutes to get out of those cherishing moments of her life with her parents.“You are still here...” asked Guruji entering the kutiya.

“Yeah”, waking to the present, Mala said “I want to tell you about me”. Staring enigmatically Guruji said “I know everything”. Compounding more perplexity to what Mala has been going through, Guruji laughed. Mala’s soul advances with time, but not brain. The soul becomes tired, aged, weakened but brain has no congruency with it. Snuffling hope, Mala unravels her conundrums. “Um...I have a strange fear” said Mala at halts, “I do not know who am I”...I...I...”said Mala with watery eyes. “Sush...”calm down...said Guruji giving her a glass of water. Mala drank it in a gulp. “What was it? It tastes too different”, said Mala.

“It was the water of river GANGA” said Acharya proudly. “WHAT?” asked Mala “How can you people drink the same water in which you take bath too?” asked Mala disgustingly.“You will get to know” said Acharya patiently. “But for now do what I tell you to do”. “But if you know about me, please solve my mystery” cried Mala. “No... I will not solve your mystery rather it is to be solved by you only. No one can do what you can do for yourself...” “But”...“No...you have to be pure at first” said Acharya.

Acharya made Mala to wake up at 3’o clock, go to river GANGA, collect some water in the joined palms of hand, meditate on the shore of the river, chanting AUM...AUM... and took bath in the river. It was a practice to illuminate the soul and bring the soul in direct contact with the body. Every time when Mala used to go to river GANGA to collect water, Acharya ensured Mala if she saw something but Mala never responded in positive and thus Acharya get to know that Mala still has to work hard to enlighten herself.

Mala participates in the offering of prayers to the God Sun, in the worshipping of the river, and in meditating for hours. Once while meditating, Mala heard some cries inside her and immediately let Guruji know about this. Guruji though seemingly calm outwardly assures Mala of the settling effects, inwardly is threatened by the approaching revelation of the mystery, started praying to the LORD SHIVA. . “AUM NAMAH SHIVAY...AUM NAMAH SHIVAY....”

Mala waited for hours to ask Acharya about the chanting of “AUM”. “Guruji, why don’t we chant about river GANGA but AUM ?” Least bothered about the question Guruji replied, “You can chant if you wish so.” “No” I mean why do we chant “AUM?” “See Mala, the Sanatan Dharma says that the whole universe resides in three letters of the Alphabet “AUM” including thirty-three crore Devtas . So, the three letters connects you directly to the supreme soul through universe.”

Mala felt satiated by the explanation and went back to the kutiya. The next morning after she was done with the meditation, Mala went to the river GANGA to collect some water. To her surprise, she could not see her face into the water. What she saw was no other image but of a bird. She raised her hand to feel her face but her hand was the claw, she touched the eyes, beak, purple–red hue.

Scared, she dumped the bucket there and rushed towards the kutiya to meet Acharya. “What have you done to me?” she blurted. Acharya opened his eyes, sitting in padmaasana said , “It is not me but the GOD...now you have your answers on your own.” Acharya closes eyes and reposed. Torn from inside she came out of kutiya and got in the midst of many voices of people worshipping, singing prayers aloud.

It was 5’oclock. The devotees have assembled for the ceremonial pooja of the river. The chanting of mantras, the lit Aartis by big lanterns posited by throng of devotees and priests in a single row, the dhwani of shankhas , the ringing of bells. All these instrumental sounds with the new found reality was banging her head. She was trying to get hold on things. She looked at the dim sky with constant sacred sounds in the background.

In a moment of time, she remembered that she had once read about a bird “Phoenix” who used to live about five–hundred years and when reaches at that age burns into ashes and reborn again. She started linking facts. Also, she was an orphan child. Those flashes of intimacy-Phoenix do not require any other partner to reproduce, probably that be the reason I never felt attracted towards anyone. She knelt on the sandy land with vowed head, gloomy Face, advanced brain and rejuvenated soul. She sighed.

After that moment the mystery laid its hand back from her and she started living nearby Acharya, learning spirituality with him. She has spent unusual years introspecting herself but once becoming a disciple to Acharya, she learned divine spirituality–an ultimate way of peace and redemption. She spent the rest of her years in Haridwar near river GANGA and at last burns away into ashes and reborn again in the form of BIRD.

By Disha Sharma