The mist glided slowly, and the chill caught Maya unaware. She shivered all of a sudden, and felt a sheepish rush of blood in her body, a rush that also indicated the first ever traces of true fear. She closed the final page of the book. It’s 5 am. She has never been much of a reader, but for extraordinary circumstances, she has decided to become an avid reader, finishing Yuva’s novel in two days- which is quite an achievement for her. She stretched herself and laid her feet against the wall, pushed against it, in an attempt to stretch her leg. And before she knew what happened, she crushed on the floor, the last page still clutched in her palms. She yawned. “Ouuuuccch!” she yelled. Yuva came rushing out from his room. “What happened?” he asked urgently, trying to control a small giggle that appeared on his face as her saw her on the floor, having fallen down from the chair.
“Where’s the last page?” she asked, repositioning herself to sit on the floor. “It happens, leave that aside,” she brushed off Yuva’s concerns about the toppled chair, the strewn papers of his novel, and the fallen Maya herself. “Where’s the last page?” she continued her question. “Or a few pages, I mean, where is the ending part?” she said. Yuva blinked. “That’s it,” he said. “This is it?” she asked back, and repeated that question again.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said. “This is not an ending Yuva, or has the way novels changed so much since I last read a book?” she asked. “I did not write an ending,” he said. “And the last thing you read was Rapunzel,” he added, with another giggle.
“Noo! The last thing I read was the first book of Harry Potter,” she said back.
“Wow, what an improvement from Rapunzel,” he remarked. She frowned at him.
“So there was no ending?” she asked.
Yuva sat down on the floor with her. “Nope,” he said. “Why?”
Yuva could not find an answer.
“Because nothing seemed natural. It just stuck there,” he said.
“There is a flood coming, you have this saadhu who is trying to unite people to build a dam, and yet until now they haven’t built it, so the answer is simple- either they build it or not,” she said.
“We don’t have two choices, Maya, I think,” he said.
“What you mean?”
“I think the saadhu appears, and is tormenting us, because there is no happy ending in the story,” he said.
It did not make sense to both of them. They are actually pondering a possibility that a character from Yuva’s book is somehow coming alive at times and its mere presence, which correlates to Yuva’s presence in places, can kill people around them.
But they did dot disagree or brush it off. Maya did not know how else she can explain the headache she had a few days ago, and the image she saw on the mirror.
“I’m becoming more conscious of his presence of late,” he explained. “I think this is the only explanation. He is an angry character. That’s how I made him be. He will not be at peace until the dam is built.”
“Or until he dies. Even if there’s a bad ending, he will die like the rest of the characters right?” she asked.
Yuva nodded, there was a spark on his face. “Do it. Try it,” she said. There was hope and a solution, even without an explanation of what is actually going on.
Yuva became a man obsessed for the next three days. He was writing simultaneously, both a good ending and a bad ending. The tale will end. The saadhu will end. Yuva felt like he knew the saadhu so well, as if he is attempting to kill someone who resides within Yuva. And then he finished his writing and went to bed that night.
Maya however, was cautious as to what was going to happen. She stayed up that night, in heady hopes that everything will be alright, and it will be a night with no disturbances. There weren’t any. Another three days went by. The pair jubilated, celebrated. No more murders. Nothing. Maya went back to work. They did not know what happened, but at least the nightmare was over.
Maya had her smile back. Prakash enjoyed seeing the old Maya again.
And Yuva was ready for work again. He folded the sheets on his bed, and shed a couple of tears seeing the empty bed where Priyanka was supposed to be lying down. He regretted not finishing the book earlier. If only he knew the solution to a problem so big would be as simple as writing a couple more pages. He decided he will not publish the book. Or maybe he will, and dedicate it to Priyanka. He couldn’t even figure how he got the idea to write the story that he wrote.
He dressed up and looked into the mirror for a while. And he did not see himself. He saw the saadhu. There was no shock. It was not an unfamiliar face to Yuva, Yuva knew this person, he created this person through the realms of his imagination.
“You think you can kill me,” it was not a question that the Saadhu was asking. It told Yuva everything he had to know. The saadhu is not a cheap imagination. He is an imagination that has somehow been embedded into the reality. But Yuva did not remember what happened next.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Maya sighing while sitting near him. There were almost tears of despair in her eyes. “He’s back,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “How you knew?” he asked back.
“Three murders,” she said. “In this very colony we live in,” she added. He felt angry.
At that moment, it felt better if they have indeed died, because they do not have to live with this haunting mystery. If there’s nothing they can do about it, they might as well just give up. Yuva however felt responsible, since it was all his imagination.
“I’ll figure a way,” he said. “I’ll figure a way of explaining everything,” he added. Maya wasn’t confident, but now she knew the saadhu can’t be erased with a pen or anything such, he is just as real, and has to be taken seriously.
To be continued…