You won (884 words)

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.