The Tale of the Virus
Tonggg! The hereditary grandfather clock roared to life. It was six in the evening. The old muthachan had just finished his pooja. Taking slow, conscious steps towards the porch, he clutched onto his Kavi mundu. The children had surrounded the Muthachan’s wooden rocking chair. They were a sprightly bunch, resembling a set of enthusiastic daisies, bobbing their tiny heads from side to side.
‘Their happiness is so infectious,’ he thought to himself.
“Good Evening, Kuttis!”
“Good Evening, Muthachan,” they replied in a chorus, pushing, pulling, and poking one another to sit the closest to their GRANDFATHER.
“What story will you tell us today, Muthachan?” little Rahul with black ringlets curiously inquired.
“Yes, yes, which story will you tell us?” the rest repeated.
“Today, I will tell you the story of the savior from the small town of Ungelu. Do you want to hear about him?” A reciprocatory yes flowed out in a chorus.
“Once upon a time, In the sleepy town of Ungelu, the great civil engineer Abhimanyu tossed and turned around on his bed. He hadn’t got enough sleep in the past few days. A repetitive dream had invaded his dark privacy, keeping him up past three in the night. He couldn’t point out whether it was his fantasy or a nightmare. He had been seeing the soul of a girl, beautiful and solemn like the full moon being gruesomely pulled out of her by a tiny cocky red dotted pencil-like object. It appeared to be repulsive. In every dream, before her eyes closed a final time, all she said was, “Find me.”
He felt like it was an appeal to him, for him, to come and rescue her from this terrifying experience. Every time he dreamt it, he felt like spiders were crawling all over him. He got up from his bed, soaking in sweat, black bags hanging loosely under his eyes as a result of the many sleepless nights. His palms had tightly caught onto a handful of the bedsheet, pulling at it every time the horrifying thought came back in full force.
Pushing his hair backward, he got up from his untidy bed with a heavy sigh. He walked around aimlessly, landing in the pitch-black kitchen, right opposite the matka. Mechanically, he picked up the steel glass from the cabinet above, placing it below the tap of the water pot. Cool water coursed through his mouth, into his throat, running further down. Abhimanyu was instantly alerted. While the half-filled glass rested lazily onto the granite platform, he eyed his surroundings.
The click of a switch followed by a sudden brightness invaded his privacy. Abhimanyu jumped, surprised at the sudden intrusion. It was Shani, his best friend from school.
“The same dream again?”
“Yes, I don’t know what to do….”
“I told you… call her. Take an appointment from Mrs. Sheila tomorrow morning….”
“And I told you I am not mad!”
“Who said you’re mad? All I say is give her a call; maybe she can help.”
“I’ll see… would you like tea?”
“Yes, masala chai. We have the packets, don’t we?”
“Let me check…Yes, we do.”
“What was the dream like?”
“Same old. Same old. Something rather weird had her soul, and BAM the dream ended with her,
‘Find me’…Sometimes I wonder if these could ever be true.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon.”
***
Next morning-
“Hello, yes, Mrs. Sheila? Yes… this is Shani; I left you a couple of messages… Yes, it is about my friend Abhinav, he has been having repeated dreams… Oh! Is she available in the evening? This is very urgent… Yes, I understand, Madam! No, he isn’t sleeping… Yes, the past entire month, he hasn’t been sleeping. No, he isn’t dizzy… Okay, we will fill whatever form it is right away. Thank you, Madam, good day.”
“Abhi check… Mrs. Sheila will send you a form. Fill it up immediately. Today evening around five, be dressed.”
“Hmmm…” A soft knock on the door followed by a series of Ding-Dongs has Shani running towards the door. A confused expression crosses Shani’s face. He juts his head further out of the door, looking left and right…
“Who is it? Shani?”
“A letter has come for you… nobody is here.”
“Oh! Who would send a letter now? Give it to me… who is it from?”
“No name or address given… wait, I will open it…”
"Tearing the envelope open at once, the contents of it tumbled onto the plain white floor. Picking it up, Abhimanyu, our protagonist, read…"
“What, Muttachan? What did Abhimanyu etta do?”
“Muttachan, tell us what happened next?” all the children chanted in a chorus.
“That is all for today. It is time for dinner; come, Rahul, before your Amma gets angry. All of you, come tomorrow at the same time; I will continue the story.”
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