What Comes After?

By Ridhima Khajuria

Nonchalance.

The first thing I felt upon startling awake.

A stream of lava ran past me. I looked up, hooded figures draped in black, hovering over the poor souls banished in this forsaken place, serving for a lifetime of crimes. "It's finally happened", I muttered, not a muscle in my face betraying what I felt, acceptance. Getting up, I walked over lazily, looking around disinterestedly.  

I never believed in the concept of an afterlife, let alone hell or heaven. I thought the whole narrative was flawed. How could a human that initiated good as well as sinful deeds be placed in either one of the two concretes? Ellie always claimed otherwise, she'd keep on repeating how if God existed, hell and heaven did too. I'd never agreed with her. Yet here I am right now. And I believe it's well deserved too, I never had anything good to offer to the mortal realm anyway.

I walked past a couple of men chained to the ground while they thrashed with a force powerful enough to budge a four-wheeler back on Earth. But the chains didn't so much as strain. Blood trickled from their arms from thin crevices, but they weren't stopping. I found the ordeal weird. Why were they even trying? They know they won't be accomplishing anything. I kept walking.

 I found a fountain at the heart of a "garden", grandly decorated with barren land and scorpions. Cruel thorns covered every inch of the floor. I carefully traversed towards the architectural piece, it was black, a sculpture of an unforgiving pterodactyl, frozen mid-flight, looking dangerously alive. Around it, the water sprinklers spurted, only that it wasn't water, it was wax. hot. burning wax.

 I saw a few people huddled beneath it, willingly searing their flesh with the dripping equivalent of lava. This was weirder; no one was forcing them. There were just a few shadows looming overhead, observing. I walked yet further, only to be taken aback by more such instances. Wasn't there supposed to be Hades forcefully torturing everyone?

As I was watching perplexed, a soft voice called out to me, "They're prisoners".

I looked behind me and I saw another hooded figure, but this one was draped in white. "But not of any supernatural being, of their own accord", it continued. 

I frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Come, let's walk." I hesitantly followed. "Mortals have a twisted version of what they perceive hell as. They think it's where they'll be crucified for their bad deeds. The whole idea is incredulous. God won't ever harm His children. Yes, He punishes them for their sins, but never so cruelly. These people that you see around you, they're punishing themselves."

I restrain myself from commenting on the first lines, and instead interrogate further, "Why?"

The figure stopped and faced me, "I should be the one asking you that, love. Haven't you been in their places before?"

I pause, confused, when it continues and knocks out the entirety of breath from inside of me, "I observed you when you punished yourself all the time because of Ellie."

My breath picks up pace, trauma striking me hard, rattling my bones. 

It ruthlessly continued, "You constantly hurt yourself, never allowing yourself to live fully, because you believed you deserved nothing more. These people are just like you, child. Being hard on themselves because of something that fate caused in their life, they think they deserve hell."

I feel tears forming at the brink of my eyes. I choke out, “You won’t get it, the huge guilt… it destroys a person.” The figure argued, “I know, heaven knows just how many times I’ve seen it, the same tragic tales, over again. Mortals spend more time than necessary in dwelling in their past, keen on changing something that they know is well out of their control. The past won’t change, and past mistakes don’t mean you deserve hell.” 

I shout, "But I do deserve hell! I spent my whole fucking life being a good for nothing! Failed my parents, failed in friendship, and.." I chuckle wryly, "failed as a brother."

"Your sister was grateful to have a kind and understanding brother like you, she loved you till the very end."

I lose it, "Yeah? and who brought about that end!? You don't understand! Ellie was my entire support system, selfless and patient. I wanted to give her back ten folds of what she gave me, and instead my worthless self ended her precious life."

My throat feels suspiciously dry and I fight to hold back the tears, “She... she saw me at my lowest, held me when I cried.” A beat of silence, “Only God knows how she’d always manage to cheer me up by making me laugh at the stupidest joke ever.” I chuckle, fond nostalgia in my eyes. “And then… ,”

 I sigh, before whispering, "I always tried my best, but it was just never enough." 

The figure spoke up, gently, "Trying your best is always enough. In fact, it was the most you could've ever done. Sometimes, it's just fate intervening from the corner of the universe. As for mortal life, it's bound to be filled with miseries and tragedies, love, and one blaming it on oneself is absurd." It pauses and says, "The accident wasn't your fault, you didn't cause it."

"It was my fault. If I'd been just a little more considerate, hadn't insisted that she talks to me on phone when I very well knew that she was driving, maybe... she could've been saved."

It replies, "You weren't in the right state of mind. You had just faced another major setback in your career. You were starved for love and care. Anyone in your place could've made that mistake."

I snap, "But the mistake was irreversible! How could I ever move past it?"

"The purpose of life is to not make it meaningless by just surviving it. Some mistakes are irreversible, yes, and they take ages to come to terms with. But it never means you can't move past them."

But I wasn't listening, "I'm a murderer. So yes, I deserve hell".

The figure finally spoke, "Very well. These souls around you gave similar reasons to stay here. It isn't possible for us to force you into doing something, so you may do whatever you wish. But look there," it pointed to a golden gate just visible at the end of the horizon, "Remember, no one will be stopping you from stepping in there and call heaven your home".

I smiled mirthlessly, "I won't need that, I can't possibly imagine experiencing heaven when all I've ever done in my life is be an inconvenience to others." And I happily join the others paying up for their sins.

Another hooded figure in white joins the first one still staring at the souls around it in melancholy. "When will they understand? When will they finally see themselves for what they truly are? Just flawed humans who possess the right to make mistakes and mess up and reflect and grieve and heal and start anew all over again."

"They will", the first one speaks, "with time. We'll teach them to love themselves. Each and every one of those poor souls deserve to go to heaven. After an entire lifetime of miseries, they deserve that bit of peace."

The second one says after a beat of silence "Ellie asked if her brother is here yet. She's been  waiting for him to join her in heaven."

"Soon. He's not ready yet. We'll need to wait for the day they open their eyes, see the entire world of possibilities in front of them, without a shred of guilt. Then only he'll happily reunite with his sister."

"After all, the only ones who wake up here are the ones drowning in self-doubt, guilt, shame or hopelessness. And those things don't belong in the place of eternal joy."

And as the conversation behind me fades into oblivion, I sit bearing the pain of drops of wax on my face, blissfully unaware of the presence waiting for me in a place far, far happier.

——— . ——— . ———— . ———-

By Ridhima Khajuria