Eraic007's Blog

He was back. He got down from the rickety town bus which left him clouded in the plumes of red sand. He shielded his eyes with the back of his elbow, his traveler’s bag hanging behind him. The suitcase on his other hand was now coatedd red thanks to the red soil of his village.

Once the dust was cleared and the bus was long gone, he turned around to check out the scenery. The place had not changed much, there was the odd cycle coming up the thin piece of land that they call a road. It was hot as usual and the land was as bare as the images in his memory.
It had been seven years since the day he left the village. He had wanted a change after finishing high school in the village and emerging the topper. His life had changed after he came to the town and realized how backward his English was. From then on, it was an upward struggle for him and though he emerged victorious in his own right, he had no time to get back to this village.

He walked towards the only landmark in the village, the temple. The village started and ended there. Back in those days, it loomed large over the thatched houses. His mother used to tell him stories of how every injustice in the village was appropriately punished by the God in the temple, through incidents and through appearances among humans. It still looked domineering, though he was not intimidated by the size of the temple or the power of the Gods within. No one recognized him as he looked around. He liked the anonymity. He was used to it back in town.

He then walked down a few blocks and found himself looking at the children playing in the open school that he went to. As usual, most of their shirts were torn and their shorts were dirty. His colleagues from town would never believe he grew running around in such a dusty environment. He heart skipped a beat when he saw his head master coming his way, carrying the cane in his hand. Some things never change, he thought with a smile, as he acknowledged his heart’s instinctive reaction on seeing that man.

His walk back home through the familiar streets brought him nostalgic memories; the days he had spent running around, the days spent on his cycle, the days spent being chased around by his father, the days spent playing Kabaddi and Cricket with his friends. He wondered where they were now. Tears welled up his eyes on recollecting those days.

He found himself, still sobbing while being held in the embrace of his mother. She was saying soothing words of finally getting back home and being with the family again. He was then ushered inside and asked to freshen up and more importantly to stop crying like a girl.

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to be continued…

A strange thing happened to Ishaan that night. He found himself entering an old wooden room. It had a chimney on top where smoke was coming out. Hesitantly, against his better judgment he opened the room.  As he took a peep inside, he was fascinated by the aquariums inside and the chocolates kept at the table. A cricket kit was kept in a corner and a painting kit lay next to it. He walked into the room full of glee.

Suddenly the door closed behind him with a loud THUD. Startled, he turned around but could see nothing as all the lights were gone and it was pitch black. Ishaan was groping in the darkness when he froze out of fear as he heard bone chilling shrill laughter echoing all around the house.

The lights came on and the room changed. Ishaan found himself facing a long, pointy nosed witch. She had a black tail shaped like an arrow at the tip. She even had two devil’s horns growing by the sides of her hat. She looked like mom, but Ishaan could not laugh at the sight this time. He was scared.

Ishaan saw a group of young boys and girls caught in a cage. Though the cage was big, they were all huddled close together. For, on all sides, there was water rising and these poor kids were hydrophobic.

The witch spoke in a screechy voice, “Aah, the great Ishaan Nandhakishore Awasti is here! I am off to see my boss, Lord Voldemort. By the time I get back these children will be drowned dead. And then I will cook them up and eat them. The key is in that room but you are a scaredy cat. Your worst enemies are waiting inside the room for you. Hee hee hee heee!!”. And she took her black broomstick and flew away.

“Please help us Ishaan” , the kids cried in unison. Ishaan did not know what was in the room. What if it were dancing letters again? What if it was the arts master before Nikumbh sir? What if it was the loud ringing of people calling him idiot duffer again?

The water level was rising. Ishaan could not bear to see the fright in the children’s eyes. They literally stuck to each other. They were getting suffocated. Ishaan raced towards the door of the room and opened it. He saw the key at the other end of it. He made a run towards the keys, picked them up and turned. What he saw made him go pale.

Standing between him and the door were hundreds of cockroaches. They all had long whiskers and some of them were sprouting wings. They were slowly, creepily and steadily marching towards Ishaan. Every feet they approached, he found it hard to breath. His eyes popped out in fear. He closed his eyes fearing that soon he would be engulfed by the cockroaches. He crouched and sat against the wall.

Far away he heard the children shout out “Ishaan, Ishaan.” He had to save them. His life did not matter to him anymore, so too his fears. He opened his eyes and ran towards the cockroaches. Stunned, they moved away and gave him a clear path to run to the door. He ran to the cage and opened it.

But the children were scared of the water. They would not come out of the cage. Ishaan looked at the kids and shouted, “ I had cockro-phobia. But I overcame it. I ran out to save you all. I conquered my fear. Cockroaches won’t hurt me. Likewise the water won’t hurt you. Open your eyes. Face your fear and come out to safety. I cannot save you from here. Only you can. Save yourselves. Save yourselves. Save yourselves.”

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“Ishaan, Ishaan!! Wake up boy, it’s time for school. Who are you saving in your dreams?”, Mrs Awasthi was shaking Ishaan up. He hugged her close and said ,“Mommy, I don’t have cockro-phobia anymore. Did the kids save themselves?”

“What cockro-phobia? Now go take bath. You can save all the kids later. Now go go go!!”,saying thus Mrs Awasthi pushed Ishaan into the bathroom. There he saw a cockroach on the mirror. He said “ Hi, Roachie, you don’t scare me anymore. Ha ha ha!!” .

“ Mom, what is hy-droph-obia?”,  asked young Ishaan Awasthi, leaning on the couch with his standard VI Science textbook. It had been three years since he met Nikumbh sir and he had soon moved out of his boarding school. Though he was not the topper at his new school, no one called him a stupid duffer anymore. His father had understood the value of bringing him up as a responsible boy rather than a school topper, and his brother had gone to college, through sports quota. All year round he was busy with his matches and Mr Awasthi played his manager and mentor.

“Ishaan, first sit up straight while you are reading, and for God’s sake remove your socks and put them in the laundry bag. Don’t they ever teach you anything in school? These kids of today know only maths, physics and chemistry and nothing about discipline or cleanliness or orderliness…………..”, his  mother went on and on about the education system as she went around the house picking up Ishaan’s school bag and dropping it into his study room.

“…………….and that Jayanthi keeps saying her daughter is the cleanest and gives her no trouble at all with the way everything is run at their house. And here I am stuck up with this……………….. ISHAAN, remove your socks and put them in the laundry bag NOW!!”, she had her hands on her hips and glared at the young boy.

He looked up at her imposing self and suddenly out of nowhere he spotted the red wings and tail sprout out his mother’s head and from behind her. He saw a volcano eruption in each of her eyeballs. Her body bulged on all sides and she kept growing. To his eyes she looked like a demon and the whole sight was funny for him. His eyes light up and he grinned slyly at his mother, revealing his bunny like front teeth which infuriated her more. Not wanting to face the music, he removed his socks and ran to his room and threw them into the laundry bag.

“Good, so now, what do you want? Oh yeah, it is pronounced hydro-fo-bia. Phobia means fear. And what are we fearing here, hydro. Hydro means water. So hydrophobia means fear of water. Actually it is colloquially used as hydrophobia, but the correct term is aqua-phobia. Aqua is also water.” Saying thus, Mrs Awasthi sat next to Ishaan and explained, often stroking his hair and drawing him close to her.

“What does collo mean?”, little Ishaan looked at her with bright eyes. “Colloquial means as we speak. Things that we use while we talk to one other causally; like we use isn’t and Ain’t for is not.”

“Yeah, Ok, Bindaas! But, Isn’t it silly they are afraid of water? Water is everywhere. I will tell you what is scary – cockroaches. The come close to you with their whiskers and climb up your legs and urgh.” Saying so Ishaan made a squeamish  gesture, threw his book away and ran off to play. He paid no heed to Mrs Awasthi shouting, “ISHAAN, put your books in your bag and go, Ishaaaaaaaan!”
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