Sometimes the heart sees what’s invisible to the eye. It’s said that time heals wounds, though to be frank, one only gets used to the pain. Occasionally we could neither control a situation nor its outcome, perhaps due to fate or ‘coincidental superstitious beliefs’. But the scar brings life long-suffering.
While embarking on the journey of life, without knowing the rules, the result is unnecessary trauma, stress, loss, and miseries. The mind tends to project those things and constantly plays the blame game. Keeping a secret for the whole life, without sharing or emptying is dangerous to the mental well-being.
It was a dusky evening. The sun started bidding bye to the earth. The sky grows murky. I was alone in our family shrine cleaning the diyas(lamps) to lit up in the twilight. After lighting all the lamps and offering a silent prayer I was returning home through the nearby dense serpent’s cellar. The huge trees like punku, kanjiram, and so on make the place slightly darker even in the mid-noon. The sun couldn’t peek its rays there. The lovely branches made natural swings to play for us. Other than birds and small creatures, the snakes sheltered there too, snakes of different types. The belief is true that those reptiles do not harm us. They cohabitate with us.
Often we spotted them while playing under the shade of those giant trees. We never got scared because elders confided that they were part of our family tomb. While passing through my eyes captured a shining object nearby. It looks like a ball of glittering gold. I got overpowered and couldn’t resist my urge to grab it. I thought it was a “nidhi”(treasure).
I had often overheard my grandparents murmuring about hidden treasures of our family and the past glories tales of our family. Well, my Ma forever warned against taking anything from the temple premises, as it would attract a curse from the diety. However, I couldn’t leave that treasure there. I seized it and wrapped it in a piece of cloth and kept it with me. When I reached home I hid it in my iron trunk.
During that time my mother was expectant. I wanted to cross-examine it secretly, but was afraid to do so,’ what if I got caught by others?’ One day I woke up from my sleep hearing the painful cry of my Ma. My Appa brought home the village midwife at the odd hour. After examining my mom she said, “I can’t do anything, take her to the hospital now, at least that would save her life, there are markings on her belly caused by ‘Eenaampechi’ “.
Enampechi, what’s it? And what would it do to a pregnant woman? My doubts were cleared. A round-shaped golden object, an evil spirit, fond of a pregnant woman and her foetus. A cold chill spread over my body. Soon I checked the treasure hidden in my trunk. To my surprise the wrapper was empty. However hard I tried, I couldn’t find it. Fear began mounting up in my mind. I was anxiously waiting for my mom’s return with the baby.
I couldn’t share what transpired during that ill-fated day with anyone. I kept a beast in my mind waiting to attack silently. After two-three days Ma returned bare-handed. We lost our infant brother. Seeing the emotionless empty eyes of my mom, I cried aloud. Mom embraced me, and together, our tears flew like a small torrent. Nobody ever knew the agony and regret I have been bearing in my mind to date.
Art of How To 