The 13th Day

Page 2

He woke up with a start. Blinking he saw some child standing in front of him. For a moment he thought it was Sukku from his dream but when his vision cleared he saw who it was.

'What is it?' he asked even though he could see the bundle of chapattis in his hands.

'Meena kaki sent these for you. She said you would be hungry by now,' said Bishu who looked just as sad as he looked these days. Sukku was his friend after all.

Raman took the warm bundle. 'How's your aunt? She is alright, I hope.'

'She is. But-'

'What?' He asked, worried.

'Its Birju kaka. He isn't well.' He told him, 'Kaki said he isn't eating anything. She said that he might die if he doesn't. He isn't even going to the hospital with Hari uncle. He says he has to give Sukku his birthday gift first.'

'He will get better with time.' He said putting his hand on Bishu's shoulder. 'Everyone is there to help him get better. Don't worry about it.'

But Bishu didn't respond instead he said, 'I should be going now. They must be waiting.'

'Yes ofcourse.' Raman replied, 'And tell your aunt i will be home soon next morning.'

Bishu nodded before turning and walking out of the farm.

Raman watched as Bishu went away. It hadn't been that long since that had happened.

'Don't you get it, Ramu?' his mother had said once they had come back from Seema's checkup, 'It's a bad Omen. Him dying near our farm, on his own birthday. It isn't a good sign son, not a good sign.'

'There is nothing we can do about it can we?'

'I asked our priest and he said that a pilgrimage might help.'

'Don't start with this again, Ma. You know my thoughts about all this.'

'We have already lost our grandchild, Raman.' She had said grabbing him by both his shoulders. 'Don't let us lose another one.'

And even though he didn't want them to, the constant tension and paranoia had made him agree. It took him an entire week to prepare for their journey, which was enough to make him late with his harvest.

And now it would take them five days to come back home. What had he done to get such luck? He hadn't harmed anyone, had he? He had performed his duties the best he could, and yet these things keep happening to him. Maybe it is a curse. Now all he could hope that this pilgrimage would actually help them with their problems.

Barely anyone was left in their fields as the Sun went down and the darkness spread around. Raman lit a lamp, washed his hands and opened the bundle. It was still warm to the touch. He began eating the chapattis as thoughts of his fate, family and farm encircled his mind. He could barely eat one chapatti.

Raman put the leftovers aside and stretched on his cot. He won't let it happen again, he can't let it happen again. He laid in a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. And though the thoughts still entered his mind, he was so tired that even the dog's barking couldn't wake him. Minutes passed, maybe hours and now, he could not breathe anymore.

Raman tried shifting on his side, but it was difficult. What was happening to him? He tried shouting, but nothing came out of his mouth. He looked around, trying hard to find someone, someone who could help him. And then, when he thought he was done, he saw someone standing near the tree. Someone who looked familiar. Was it a child?

Sukku? He thought as he struggled to breathe. But it can not be. The kid was dead. Didn't he see him buried not a week ago? Raman gaped in terror as he felt something cold and heavy on his chest. The air seemed to have frozen inside. He was going to die. And then, the reality changed itself. He could breathe now.

His heart was still thumping hard as he laid there. With sweat on his face and eyes wide open, he knew it was a sleep paralysis. Thinking too much about everything had done it. He needed water. But while searching for it beneath his cot, he accidentally knocked the water bottle, relieving it of the remaining water it had. It gets better and better! Now he had no other option but to go to the well which was on the other side of his farm. He will have to hurry. Hence picking up the lamp in one and his bottle in another he stepped on towards it.

It was just a dream; he told himself as he moved ahead, let just get it done with it. Finally getting there, he threw the bucket into the complete darkness of the well and heard the splash not a moment later. He started pulling at it as a fear of being pushed kept him on his edge.

Raman got away from the well as soon as he had the bucket in his hands. He filled his bottle and took two large gulps out of it as soon as he could while wetting his shirt in the process. He was relieved of some tension, but he still had the whole night in front of him; he wonders if he could sleep now. It was all good; he told himself. He was being jumpy for no good reason. And though he could hear movements from his farm, he knew it was nothing more than just a dog or a similar animal going through it. There was nothing to worry about, he was sure of it.

With his bottle at his side, he continued on towards the cot. However, before he could come even halfway to it, he stopped in his tracks. He looked and saw someone sitting there, someone crouching among the crops.

For a while he just stood there, not knowing what to do. The terror had seized him. He was not able to move. He wondered if he was still asleep.