I like this story of mine and the main character in it I hope you find it engaging.I would be delighted to see your reaction!
Mahalingam was sitting on the steps of the temple tank. He did this
most evenings to find a secluded spot for himself. There was always a cool
breeze at this place. Generally, except for a stray few like him, most people
got down the steps to wash their feet before entering the temple. Maha rarely
went inside the temple, save for rare occasions. He was neither an atheist nor
devout. He was over 80 and had lost his wife a decade ago. He lived with his
son, Dandapani, who was affectionate towards him but never demonstrated it
except when alone. Dandu, as Maha endearingly called him, maintained a
diplomatic balance between his wife and father.
Maha had a drawback in speaking whatever came to his mind and was often
tactless. This frequently brought him into conflict with his daughter-in-law
and grandchildren. They hardly spoke to him and pretended not to hear when he
called. Luckily, he had good health and could manage his chores himself. He
spent time reading the dailies from cover to cover and reading books he brought
from the local municipal library.
It was one evening when the sky was overcast, though there was no
indication of rain. The tank was almost empty except for the silhouette of
someone bathing on the opposite side. When Maha turned towards the southern
side, he found a hazy figure in dark clothes standing a short distance away,
watching him. Maha was eating with relish hot masala vada bought from a vendor
at the entrance to the tank. He looked at the figure and called out, “Come
here. Why are you staring at me? Sit by my side and have some vada.”
With a puzzled look, the black figure moved closer to him without
saying anything.
“Why are you silent? I think I saw you yesterday too. Come closer. Why
are you in dark clothes? Do you belong to any political outfit?” Maha asked in
his exuberant style. When the figure came near, Maha offered him two vadas and
asked him to sit by his side.
The figure shook its head to decline. It said in a gruff but peculiar
voice, “You have only one more day.”
“One more day for what? You’re talking like a Yama dhuta,” Maha roared
with laughter.
“Yes, one more day to live. You will follow me then. Your guess is
correct.”
“You don’t seem like one. I thought they were dark in complexion,
bare-chested, and with scary faces without noses or mouths, or with wide mouths
and protruding tongues or teeth. That is what my mother told me just a day
before her death. You are not bare chested but have black clothes on. I haven’t
heard that these emissaries of Yama talked to their victims, announcing the
dates of departure. Either you are a nut or a knave,” Maha said laughingly.
Smiling for the first time, it said, “You seem a jolly old fellow and
are not scared. Though I don’t have to tell you, I took a liking for you and
hence gave the news for you to make suitable arrangements before your final
departure.”
“Ha, ha, ha! Don’t think I will fall for your ruse. Surely I bet you
are a drama actor coming after rehearsal without changing costume, and maybe
trying to get some money out of me. Show me some evidence that you are Yama’s
messenger,” said Maha.
“Nothing like what you say. See this rope,” the figure said, dangling a
long rope.
Maha was in splits. “Rope, you say! Ha-ha, showing a clothesline for a
lifeline (pasa kayiru) and scaring me or what? I am in perfect health. Though
past 80, my heart is strong, I walk long distances, digest all food, no
complaints except fading vision. I don’t think I will die for another five
years. Get lost and find some easy quarry,” he said.
“OK, can you see my legs? Watch whether I am standing on the floor or a
foot above. This should set your doubts at rest,” said the figure.
“With my poor vision, I cannot verify the truth of what you say when it
is dark. Get going and we can meet tomorrow evening here. But you will have
some vadas with me,” said Maha as he got up to go home.
Maha didn’t tell his son Dandu, lest he gets worried. Maha saw it as a
joke, though the next day, before he left for his evening jaunt to the temple
tank, he kept all his things in his room clean and in an orderly manner.
He looked around for the dark figure as he munched the vadas. He was
not to be seen, though Maha waited until 7 p.m. He heard the temple bell toll
and left the place after folding his raised arms in the direction of the
temple. He was in a happy mood as he walked into his house.
Just as he climbed the three steps, he tripped and fell. The sharp
corner of the concrete step hit his forehead hard. As blood came out and he was
losing consciousness, he turned his head to see the dark figure with the
dangling rope smiling at him with a tinge of sadness. Maha wished to say, “You won,” but his life ebbed
out by then.