The Kingdom of Dead

The shopping bag was getting heavier by the hour and Prakash was already grumbling. Leela ignored his whining deliberately and plodded on. The day was getting hotter and the market was jam-packed. The next day being Poornami*, every one in the neighborhood wanted to get their share of fresh flowers, tender coconut, and fruits for the pooja# and vegetables for the lunch that would follow.

The usual hustle and bustle of market never failed to amuse Leela; she enjoyed the rigorous process of appraising the items, selecting the best of the lot, and bargaining with the vendor amidst numerous customers milling around. The outcomes of such endeavors were always the same - she emerged triumphant with her hard won goods.

The couple had finally completed their shopping. Special days such as an impending festival always had a way of triggering a chain of hikes in the rates – be it fruits, vegetables or the auto fare. The market was situated in the interior part of the town’s shopping area. They had to pass through a narrow alley and get into the main road to access the auto or bus stand. It usually took fifteen minutes to reach the main road. They started maneuvering through the crowd as fast as they could.

The alley had numerous small shops that mainly catered to the lowest economic strata of the town. However, most people did not mind peeping into them occasionally to buy trinkets that they fancied. There were varieties of shops – wooden figurines and toys, repair shops, plastic and rubber footwear for children, bangles and earrings and what not. Leela too had made her claim in these shops but usually restrained herself – Prakash hated to wait around; these vendors had a way of putting him off. Today he just wanted to get out of that place.

Leela was getting tired of holding the almost-bursting bags. She could see Prakash already three heads further away from her. The din made it impossible to call out to him. Just as she hastened to move a little faster, one of the plastic bags cut loose and the fruits rolled over to the jutting wooden plank of a shop. Cursing under her breath, she stopped to pick them up. The boy in the shop offered to collect it for her and get another cover. As if waiting for the offer, she plopped down on the plank, wiping the sweat off her forehead. She realized it was a clock repair shop. She peeped inside.

There were many repair shops in the alley but this looked different from the rest. The walls were crammed with clocks of every conceivable shape and size – the new plastic ones that had a cheap look about them, some slightly tarnished steel framed ones (or probably a look-alike metal), wooden clocks, grandfather clocks, and of course wrist watches. Leela looked around, fascinated. She did not remember seeing so much variety even in those big, glass door shops in the main road. Her eyes scanned them with interest.

She was startled to see a wrinkled face amongst those dials. An old man was peering at her with an intensity that almost had the physical impact of a blow. Involuntarily she shrank back. She looked away for a second to recover from this unexpected reaction. She peered inside again, her eyes getting used to the darkness of the dingy shop; the face was still there.
She forced a small smile at him. He smiled back, but somehow they did not match the expression in his eyes. Her eyes now focused on the small wooden clock he held in his hand.

The clock was quite unique. It was a wooden sphere shaped like a small pumpkin, complete with the ridges and a tiny, stout stalk on top. Its surface appeared shiny and smooth between the ridges – the mark of a superior craftsmanship. The center was carved hollow and the dial was fixed in the center. Two small spindles supported the dial on top and below. It was designed to look like the dial was pierced through the middle. The dial could be rotated sideways. Overall, it gave an impression of the dial floating in the hollow space of the wooden pumpkin. The stalk on the top worked like a lid that could be pulled up and replaced again in the slot.

It was evident that the piece did not ‘belong’ in the shabby shop. The old man noticed her admiration towards the clock. Eagerly, he extended his scrawny hand. As if in a trance, she took the clock. It felt smooth and cool. She turned the clock in her hands appreciating its highly polished, wooden contours. She wondered about the unknown talent who had created such a fine piece of art. Slowly she rotated the dial marveling how easily it moved on wooden spindles. The dial rotated one full circle and clicked to a position.
At the sound of the faint ‘click’, a silent scream rang inside her. An indefinable terror seized her mind. It was as if something suddenly chocked her, sucked out the breath from her lungs. She was paralyzed with fear. Unable to move, she gazed fearfully at the old man.

Although panicky, Leela could recognize the feeling of triumph in his eyes. She felt her heart beating dangerously low and thoughts bouncing off madly; they were hitting a blind dead-end. He was trying to say something, but she could only see his lips moving. The entire surroundings stood still, the air turned icy cold. The noise ceased completely, replaced with a deathly silence. She could not see anybody. Even the old man’s face started fading and only the strange glee in his eyes remained that grew stronger by the second. Her mouth was dry as a dead sponge. She could feel an invisible oily layer that felt velvety yet horrendously slimy, in a slow motion covering her, while every atom in the atmosphere flew away from her. She was drowning.
At that one infinitesimal moment the truth struck her – she was all alone with that unseen evil force in the entire universe. A light within her struggled hard and slowly, flickered to a dim speck. She could now hear the faint words of the old man. Her whole body shivered uncontrollably. He was urging her to hold the clock tight. She was growing dizzy.

All of a sudden, she felt an unbearable lightness. It was as if some one had flushed her inside out. Later she was to remember that moment – it had emptied not just her terror, but of every emotion that a human being can experience in the entire lifetime. She had felt just as inanimate as the pumpkin case.

Prakash was shaking her violently. He had come back to the alley in search of her. He had no idea what had guided him to the repair shop. All the blood had drained out of Leela’s face. He instinctively sensed that the clock was the cause of her distress and immediately snatched it from her hands and threw it aside. He glared at the old man who seemed more upset about the clock than that of Leela’s condition. The old man had grown angry.
“There is no return from the kingdom of dead!” he whispered; repeating it over and again in a monotone. Prakash dragged her from the shop. Supporting her limp body, he boarded the waiting auto. He was furious but apprehension gnawed at his heart. For the life of him, he could not make sense of the old man’s rant.

Leela knew only too well what they had meant; she sat staring ahead vacantly into the infinity.

*poornami = full moon day that is auspicious
#pooja = worshipping deities with offerings of flowers, fruits or sweets