Short Story: The Child


II Hari Om II

The Child
I woke to the dying whine of the car engine. The driver was gently nudging my shoulder. “Wake up Sahib, he said, we have reached”. Indeed, I could see the lights of the windows of my vacation cottage through the gloom. The housekeeper must have lit a fire in anticipation of my arrival. I was touched by the gesture. For a moment, the will to live sparked within me. But then it was extinguished. Extinguished by the memories of the family that I had lost. I had left everything behind, had come to the cottage of my childhood with only one intention-to end my life where it had begun.

I stepped out of the car and stretched my weary limbs. The driver looked at me with some concern. I waved him away and told him to take the car home. I wouldn’t be needing it. I stepped inside. A warm fire was indeed crackling in the hearth. But my attention was drawn to the gun on the mantelpiece. Before I knew I, it was in my hand, the barrel pressed to my temple. Perhaps I should do it now, before I lose my resolve. There was a deafening thunderclap. The windows rattled. It seemed that heaven was calling me. My finger tightened upon the trigger. And then I threw the gun away. And I wept. I wept for my loss. I wept that I lacked the resolve to end this pointless existence and join my loved ones on the other side. I cried myself to sleep.
Tap… Tap… Tap… I woke with a start. Was that knocking that I heard? So faint… like that of a child. But which child would call at such an unearthly hour? With an uneasy feeling, I opened the door. In the light of the porch, I saw a scrawny little girl in a tattered dress. She looked worn out with fatigue. She looked at me with teary, chocolate-brown eyes. “Please help me uncle, I am lost. I have been wandering in the forest . I can’t find my family or my home. Please help!” So saying, she collapsed with exhaustion. I gently lifted her in my arms and took her inside. I laid whatever food I had on the table. I shook her awake. “Eat child”. I said, “Then we will look for your parents”. She smiled at me with such warmth that my heart melted. She ate a few biscuits and drank a cup of tea. I decided that she would sleep in the cottage till the morning, as a storm was imminent. Just as I was tucking her into bed, she looked over my shoulder and let out a scream of pure terror. Before I could react, she had kicked the covers off and run out into the night. ‘Wait”, I cried, as I pursued her, not even pausing to grab a torch. I strained to listen to the patter of her tiny feet over the rain that was just beginning to fall. Suddenly, the night was shattered by a deafening explosion, I was thrown off my feet. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was an orange glow repelling the blackness,,,
I woke in the village hospital. My housekeeper’s anxious face loomed over me. “Are you alright Sahib?” he asked. Lightning struck the house Sahib! It burnt down. If you had been inside, you would have surely, died.
“What of the girl?” I asked. “Did anyone find her?” “Which girl Sahib?”, he asked with a puzzled expression. “The little girl who was lost …” “That girl!” I exclaimed, as my weary eyes focussed on the painting of a young gentleman, his wife and young daughter. Now his expression changed to one of horror. “Sahib, she was the Zamindar’s daughter. She got lost in the forest fifty years ago and was never found! 
I started shivering uncontrollably. Just then, I heard the laugh of a little girl. I turned, but saw no-one. But, on my bedside table, there was a note. 
“You are alive for a reason uncle. Do not waste your life in sorrow”.
And at the end, fresh, wet with the night’s rain, was the muddy handprint of a little child. Then, I wept in earnest, but these were tears of gratitude.

II Shri Ram II
II I am Ambadyna II
|| I Love You my Dad ||
Arnav. H. Tongaonkar
01.06.2014   




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