I was playing in the veranda and they started lifting me. I was shouting, "don't take me there. I will never do it again. I will buy another ball. " But they didn't listen. They made a roof out of me and marched towards the room with an ancient lock marked with red vermilion. I screamed, yelled, struggled to get out of their grip. Their hands were like iron chains and the more I fought, the stronger the force became and I started crying, helpless, frightened, numbness on my limbs, unable to do anything. Suddenly, I was on the ground. I felt the wet earth on my mouth and I was so happy that I started laughing. Then I opened my eyes. The cousins were not there. But everyone in the family was looking at me. Apparently, I was dreaming and fighting with my internal demons once again and like other encounters, this time too, I fell from the bed with my face down.
Summers were like this. I would sleep under the sky on a charpai (jute rope cot) along with others in my maternal grand father's house. I would dream of a Goddess inside a closed room and how forcefully she would pull me towards the room and I would struggle to my last sweat to be free from that fatal force. Everyone knew who was behind that force. The children knew and felt more. We would never go near that room, not even during daytime, or during time of festival or wedding ceremony. That room stood at the far end of the veranda, stayed desolate, inviting but alarmingly fearsome, not to be looked into. We had heard lots of stories about the room. Mintu said, family Goddess "Kalsu" of my grand father's ancestors resided there. She was a very beautiful nymph, short and dark. You could see the glow of her eyes, the radiation of her teeth and vermilion on her body. Rest of her, you couldn't see but only imagine. They said, she had snow like hair, some said, she had her hair made from the darkest of coal tar, some said, she was bald. None knew. None saw. But we remembered the descriptions. We made a visual picture, the most dreadful image and placed her inside the closed room.
The problem with summer was that it never passed. The days were longer and we were many cousins. We would play and run and plan adventures. But the room remained closed. Closed from all sides. Except for a small gap on it's roof, from where sunlight filtered in. Some light went inside at the junction where the wooden door frame met the brick wall. I would stand at a safe distance and would lurk inside. I would see dust particles, white and innocent, going inside the room, sometimes a wandering fly, a moth, loosing it's way. I would strain my eyes to locate things we had lost to the room. Chintu's glass ball, our cricket balls, Pinku's parrot, Joshi's pigeon, my ink pen. I believed that once you leave something near the room, the room pulled it and took inside. Once something went inside, it was gone. Never ever to be seen again. Desperate to get our things back, or curious enough to know what lies inside, we once approached, Bali. He used to be a brave kid among us and was not afraid of anything. We collected fifty paisa each and bought a pair of colorful glass and presented it to Bali. He was a happy go lucky child and was ready to climb to the roof top and look inside the closed room. We all prayed that Bali with the magic glass would find the things inside the room and tell us exactly what he saw. Bali removed his shirt and shoes, He took hold of the protruding bricks and started going up. Once he reached the top, he opened his mouth to present us with a dramatic laugh and looked down from the gap of the roof. He went near to the gap and slightly inserted his head and then he screamed. He came running down and jumped from the roof top. We gave him some water and sat beside him. What he said was nothing we had imagined. He said that the room was tidy and clean. Not a speck of dust or cobweb or our missing things. Even he dropped his magic glass and at the next moment the glass disappeared and a strange force started attracting his face and at that moment, he screamed.
None could sleep that night. Next morning, We agreed to confront grand father. He was the person in control of the house and he must tell us the mystery behind the closed room. He started with " Is she troubling you ? Once she started hurting the children. So my father packed her bags and took her to the nearest river and thrown her away along with her stuffs. However a packet of vermilion and a red cloth left behind and he put the two things inside a room at the far end and closed it for good." I asked, "So you are not taking care of the room now ?" Grandfather said, "No. Why should I ? That room is closed since then." We were puzzled. How could this happen ? There must be answers. We asked where our stuff went. Grandfather said, "they are there. Just not visible." Mintu was angry now. "Why on earth you keep that room then ? Why don't you destroy that room ?" Grandfather was as usual at his normal self. "where else she would go ? Just don't bother her. She won't bother you and she takes thing for good, for the future."
"What good is to have a space that take things from us ? What good can come out from it in the future ? Why there is a room which lures and hides matter ?" Summers passed eventually. I don't go there anymore. None of my cousins visit there now. I don't know whether that closed room with an ancient lock marked with red is still there. But I remember that inside the room, there was something dark. Something invisible, dark matter or dark space... space that eats matter or matter that eats matter, mysterious but beautiful.
(*photo taken from Wikipedia about Dark matter)
Summers were like this. I would sleep under the sky on a charpai (jute rope cot) along with others in my maternal grand father's house. I would dream of a Goddess inside a closed room and how forcefully she would pull me towards the room and I would struggle to my last sweat to be free from that fatal force. Everyone knew who was behind that force. The children knew and felt more. We would never go near that room, not even during daytime, or during time of festival or wedding ceremony. That room stood at the far end of the veranda, stayed desolate, inviting but alarmingly fearsome, not to be looked into. We had heard lots of stories about the room. Mintu said, family Goddess "Kalsu" of my grand father's ancestors resided there. She was a very beautiful nymph, short and dark. You could see the glow of her eyes, the radiation of her teeth and vermilion on her body. Rest of her, you couldn't see but only imagine. They said, she had snow like hair, some said, she had her hair made from the darkest of coal tar, some said, she was bald. None knew. None saw. But we remembered the descriptions. We made a visual picture, the most dreadful image and placed her inside the closed room.
The problem with summer was that it never passed. The days were longer and we were many cousins. We would play and run and plan adventures. But the room remained closed. Closed from all sides. Except for a small gap on it's roof, from where sunlight filtered in. Some light went inside at the junction where the wooden door frame met the brick wall. I would stand at a safe distance and would lurk inside. I would see dust particles, white and innocent, going inside the room, sometimes a wandering fly, a moth, loosing it's way. I would strain my eyes to locate things we had lost to the room. Chintu's glass ball, our cricket balls, Pinku's parrot, Joshi's pigeon, my ink pen. I believed that once you leave something near the room, the room pulled it and took inside. Once something went inside, it was gone. Never ever to be seen again. Desperate to get our things back, or curious enough to know what lies inside, we once approached, Bali. He used to be a brave kid among us and was not afraid of anything. We collected fifty paisa each and bought a pair of colorful glass and presented it to Bali. He was a happy go lucky child and was ready to climb to the roof top and look inside the closed room. We all prayed that Bali with the magic glass would find the things inside the room and tell us exactly what he saw. Bali removed his shirt and shoes, He took hold of the protruding bricks and started going up. Once he reached the top, he opened his mouth to present us with a dramatic laugh and looked down from the gap of the roof. He went near to the gap and slightly inserted his head and then he screamed. He came running down and jumped from the roof top. We gave him some water and sat beside him. What he said was nothing we had imagined. He said that the room was tidy and clean. Not a speck of dust or cobweb or our missing things. Even he dropped his magic glass and at the next moment the glass disappeared and a strange force started attracting his face and at that moment, he screamed.
None could sleep that night. Next morning, We agreed to confront grand father. He was the person in control of the house and he must tell us the mystery behind the closed room. He started with " Is she troubling you ? Once she started hurting the children. So my father packed her bags and took her to the nearest river and thrown her away along with her stuffs. However a packet of vermilion and a red cloth left behind and he put the two things inside a room at the far end and closed it for good." I asked, "So you are not taking care of the room now ?" Grandfather said, "No. Why should I ? That room is closed since then." We were puzzled. How could this happen ? There must be answers. We asked where our stuff went. Grandfather said, "they are there. Just not visible." Mintu was angry now. "Why on earth you keep that room then ? Why don't you destroy that room ?" Grandfather was as usual at his normal self. "where else she would go ? Just don't bother her. She won't bother you and she takes thing for good, for the future."
"What good is to have a space that take things from us ? What good can come out from it in the future ? Why there is a room which lures and hides matter ?" Summers passed eventually. I don't go there anymore. None of my cousins visit there now. I don't know whether that closed room with an ancient lock marked with red is still there. But I remember that inside the room, there was something dark. Something invisible, dark matter or dark space... space that eats matter or matter that eats matter, mysterious but beautiful.
interesting......reminds me of the incident when dill tries to go looking for Bo Radley...
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