The 13th Day

Page 1

Raman had turned for the hundredth time on his cot that night. Thinking of all the work he had to do and how he still will just fail at it.

But he could see first light of the dawn now. It won't be long before the sun would rise. He got off his cot and grabbed his shirt. He was about to wear it when he glanced towards his wife Seema.

"Sorry," he said, for she had woken up, "I should've been more careful."

"It's almost time now. I should have been up earlier," she said while still looked a bit tired. And it was understandable for she was three months pregnant.

"No, you need your rest. And besides, I have talked with Meena kaki. She will be here before noon."

"Is it today then?" She asked.

"What? The tehravi? No, it's tomorrow. But some might come today."

"I hope Hari and his wife were here. They could've helped Mayuri Kaki. With Birju kaka getting sick and all."

"I saw their car yesterday. So they might be here already."

"Really? Well, then that is one less thing to worry about."

"And Bishu would be here too, so send him if there's any problem." He was ready to go now. Still he hesitated, he didn't want to leave her yet.

"When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow. I still have to go to the tehravi. And once everything is taken care of here, I will go back to the farm."

Seema nodded and looked as if she wanted to say something, but when she didn't, he continued. "I'll be back before you know it," then giving one last smile, he went out of the room.

The sky had gone brighter than before, birds were already stuttering in the courtyard. But he gave them no heed. Instead, he packed his food and went towards his old bicycle. He was ready. And yet, a feeling of dread and foreboding came upon him. Should he leave her like this? Would Meena Kaki be able to handle it if something goes wrong? What if Bishu doesn't come on time? But he knew none of the worry will work. Hence with one last look at his house he pushed upon the paddles and went away.

The sun was on the horizon when he reached his farm. dewdrops still hadn't melted away and shone like tiny little diamonds. Raman stood there as he looked at his crops. It wasn't much, but with the time slipping away, he will have to try a lot harder than before.

Hence, picking up his tools, he began what he had intended for weeks.

He sat beside his crops and started cutting. He would grab a bunch of them and then slice them before putting them in small heaps. His motions becoming mechanical as he went ahead. His limbs starting to ache and going slower and slower as the sun went up into the sky.

Raman was tired by the time he was finished. His limbs barely moving as he looked at the remaining crops. He sighed; over two third of it was remaining. He needed help. But knowing everyone is busy with their own work he dusted off his clothes and put away his tools. Then forced himself to go to the other side of the farm where he cleaned he cleaned himself from the nice cold water of the well.

Raman remained there as long as he could while he watched other farmers work. Barely anyone was there who hadn't finished more than half of his work. He went back to his cot. The chapattis had gone cold by now, but still he ate them with half an onion. Once finished, he laid back on his cot and closed his eyes.

He was on his bicycle again, driving it as fast as he could. He had to save Sukku. But was stopped by his parents who were asking him to take them to a pilgrimage. He told them he had to save Sukku first that he was drowning. But by the time he reached the pond, he was nowhere to be found. Instead, his wife was sitting there digging the ground, looking for some long-lost treasure. He was about to ask what was inside it when he saw a small white hand stick out of the ground.