The loss is dragging me into the gloomy mires of sadness. I can feel the hole inside me where my love had made its home. But, try as I might, I can not stem the flow of time.
I know I have to go and stay with my aunt in her big bungalow, and am apprehensive about my new life. I don’t know her very well but, I can see a glimpse of my mother in her. Her kindness and demeanor are very reminiscent as well. It is odd that I feel a wrench in my chest when I see her, in spite of her reassuring presence. It is good that the bungalow is so big, I can shun all human contact, as my heart yearns only for solitude. I spend my time roaming the corridors of this bungalow. The mindless wandering distracts me, so, I keep at it.
There is this one door I pass by everyday, made of dark wooden beams worn smooth by the ages. The mysterious thing is that it doesn’t have a handle, knocker or even a keyhole. Everyday that I pass by it, my longing to see what lies behind it increases. I know it is not my curiosity, for it lies dead along with all other things inside me. It is something deeper, I can not say what, but, I can feel its pull.
It is unbearable now, this desire, I must find out what lies beyond the door. I push and it doesn’t budge. I did not really expect it to. But, I am not going to let up so easily. With a pang of grief, my mind flashes back to my father. He loved solving puzzles and we used to solve one before bed, every night. Whenever I used to be on the verge of giving up, he said with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes “The only way to solve a puzzle is to get creative”.
The memory has made my vision blurry but, strengthened my resolve. I run my hand over the woodwork, even the frame. I get down to my knees to inspect the gap under the door when suddenly, I spot a perfect square outline in the wood, near the floor. So faint was the outline that I might have missed it had I not been looking for it. My lips curl up in a smile in spite of myself.
I can hear my heart beating and feel the wetness of the sweat on my palms. My excitement to penetrate this mystery is surprisingly palpable. I had forgotten what it felt like. I lick my lips and push the square. The door swings inward noiselessly. I step into the darkness, thrilled at being able to finally unravel the mysterious pull that the secret behind the door has had over me.
The room is not very large and the darkness so dense that it is almost has a fog-like physical presence. I think I can see a marble pedestal in the centre of the room. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I can also see the silver cup. The fantastic designs wrought all over its surface and embellished with crystals hold my gaze, even from here and my feet seem to carry me towards it. A few steps from it, I see a clear liquid sparkling within the cup. My heart skips a beat, my mind goes numb. The force of the words engraved on the pedestal, sends a shiver down to the very core of my being.
Living in the present, Dwelling in the past
A drifting soul, Sinking with the ballast
Dissolves into history, The future’s brew
Ghosts revived, Destiny awaits you