Chapter 10: Patala-Loka

For seven days and nights I clung to my life in the village. I would wake to find myself cold and alone floating above my grieving family in our home. Aarack and Shashin couldn't hear me as hard as I tried. I couldn't touch or feel them, they couldn't see or hear me, but every day I tried to make contact. Each attempt would only last several hours, until I would once again find myself in a barren land with strange trees and gray sand. I woke one day in the wastelands in a house much like our own, but large portions of the roof were missing. I found no friendly faces in the wasteland, but that day I was greeted by a large crane in the living room. His beak was long and thick, his face and neck bald. From his neck hung a heavy sack filled with testicles. The strange bird was covered in jewelry and gems. Upon seeing me, it dashed for the altar in the prayer room, stealing the diya and flying through the place where our door would have been. It was not long before I saw another one of those cranes in the desert. They would frequently steal the crops from the ground, and the tiles from the houses. On the second day I learned the cranes seemed to live in the very homes they stole from. It was on the fourth night while sitting on the roof of a house that was no longer my home that I saw where the cranes were taking them. A striped antelope with spiral horns walked into the outskirts of the wind blasted village, and a crane flew to him carrying the scavenged goods to him.

It was not long until Rashmi joined me in the barren lands. With deep shame I must say for the first seven days I hid her body from me whenever it would find its way to me. After four days in vain trying desperately to reach out to anyone in the village, I returned home trying anything I could to comfort my Shashin and Aarack. Shashin was inconsolable, and Aarack refused to leave bed except to feed Shashin. After the seventh night, while trying to cuddle up with Aarack in our bed, I heard a small cry from the kitchen. It remains a mystery to me how Radhmi's unmoving spirit found its way out of whatever hole I hid it in each day, but never had I heard her cry. For seven days more I lay nestled in the corner of the prayer room with our child. I no longer had the strength to deny Rashmi, nor the heart to try to comfort my family only for them to not even realize my presence. All I had left in me was the ability to cry. After the fourteenth day however, I found a new strength growing inside me, all of the isolation and loss boiling to the surface. It was suddenly very clear. All the pain of my family, of my child, it was all Nishith's fault. Of all those who visited Aarack to console our broken family, Nishith, our nearest neighbor, was never one of them. He did not care for my loss, and when I visited him he never grieved for me. Nishith slept like a baby every night, and in the following seven days of stalking him and his happy family in their home, I learned that he and Koyel were to have another baby. I was a woman obsessed, I couldn't resist watching his family happy and whole while mine lay in pieces. I was seething, but everyday I spent all of my limited time hate-watching him and his children.

On the twenty first day, waking again in my once home with my once family, I found again my loved ones still, frozen, empty. Anger filled me whole, and I left once again to Nishith's house, only to find a strange man sitting on his porch. In a beautiful headdress adorned with many rubies and ornate jewels, sat this man dressed like a mankari. None had visited this far south since Aarack stopped going to court. Perhaps they were here to check up on him, but then why was he meditating in front of Nishith's house? I pondered this question, as I attempted to pass him into Nishith's threshold, but the strange man held out his arm in front of me, as if he could see me. His eyes stayed closed but he turned his head towards me. It was then inches from him that I realized that his shape was not solid. His edges were frayed and blurry like the dreamland I kept sliding back into. The strange man points skyward, and I allow myself to fall back into the arid wastelands. Ss I suspected the mysterious stranger was still with me, sitting on the porch of a decrepit mockery of Nishith's own home. Following his hand, I saw on the dilapidated roof a crow staring down at us. 

Aarack had help from many in my funeral proceedings, and yet I had not until now seen any of Yama's messengers. In the very moment I had it occurred to me, despite my piousness in life, I was hoping I never would. By the end of the first 7 days I had believed myself abandoned by Yama. I knew if I were to leave I would never again see my family. If I were to have my life karma judged I will never see justice served to Nishith, I thought. I refused to be processed. I turned from the spirit in an attempt to flee, only to feel another's touch for the first time in too long. The mankari stood, his hand on my shoulder. I went to remove his hand only to find how deeply I had craved another's touch. He took advantage of my hesitation, and turned me towards him. I felt trapped and afraid once again by my own desire for any human contact. Was I always fated to be controlled by willful men refusing to let me leave? Instead of the rage I expected however, the spirit seemed not even focused on me. I jerked away from him slightly when he reached for Rashmi. His eyes met mine, seeking permission. Tentatively he slowly reached for her, touching his hand to her cold cheek. The crow behind us cried, and I understood then that Rashmi deserved peace even if I was too selfish to seek it.

Time not spent in the mortal realm was much harder to measure. The orange skies would turn green and sickly and the air would turn cold at night, but the "days" could stretch on for a week or an hour. I took shelter in the dark satire of my villain's home as the harsh sharp winds set in after the maharaja left, never uttering a word. When dawn broke over the jagged mountains I found a family of crows on the roof and set out to follow them through my village's dull parody. For 4 days I followed on foot, trudging through the Narmada, Tapi, and Pengenga. I found in this foreign land, with unfamiliar foliage, each river tainted and muddied with clay. Pengenga was nearly dry. Through each river I was surrounded by snakes and reptiles. The days passed at an unusually fast pace, unlike my first 21 days. Despite a much more physically demanding journey, I also found myself much less fatigued each day. It seemed, rather as if it took more energy to resist the pull down the path the crowd guided me. 

On the fifth day on my journey, after crossing Godavari, I found a bizarrely lush valley filled with chimeras of many forms. I settled me and Rashmi on a stone in the valley, curious how the human world in the region looks. I had never walked this far south in life, and I had only tales from my mother to go by. Instead of a wild jungle valley, in the human world I found myself in a rich bustling village. I stayed in the village for the night exploring the exciting sites and smells and sounds, and when staying in the physical world fatigued me too much I enjoyed the wild valley. The sunless sky stayed bright that day longer than most it seems, but I did not mind it. I fed Rashmi only the finest fruit growing on trees, and I found flowers unlike those I had ever imagined. We sat under a tree bathing in the jungle heat eating a mango at one point, while the crows chirped annoyed at our sluggardness. They were rather keen to change their tune however, when I fed them some of our fruit. Our peace was soon disturbed however, when a mango fell from my grasp, and a rock that had not been there moments before consumed it in a flash. The gharial I had assumed stoneflesh made no move against us, when I fled across the valley floor scaring away the crows. Instead he simply begged for more fruit. Wanting not to anger him I complied, and over time he cuddled himself beside me. He let me pet him, and my fast friend rested with us that night.

We awoke on the 6th day on the back of the gharial I would come to name Sachiv. At first being moved on his back following the crows had me rather startled, but on his back our journey was much faster, so I did not rebuke the services of my new beastly friend. Sachiv spent most every down moment trying to catch the crows. Every time we made camp for the night he'd run circles around the poor birds forever out of his reach. We traveled for 2 days, and on the third we saw a large glittering village. Besides it in a valley below was a forest of dead trees, and the floor cracked and dry. Sachiv and I chose to take our journey through the village, but when we came upon our first building made of gold we noticed all the bricks were round orbs. We found fellow spirits, they pleaded for us to turn back, but Sachiv was too eager to explore so I foolishly ignored them. The creatures in this village were fat, but diseased. Flames filled the street lighting each village from below. Sachiv let me off so he could venture on his own, and when he returned to me he had in his maw a human skull painted in gold. Upon further inspection all of the stones in all of the buildings were made of the very same painted skulls. We lost that day venturing back out to the hills overlooking the two paths. Against Sachiv's wishes we chose the valley. In the valley tortured souls wandered the plains in an orderly fashion, as if there were unseen roads. I tried to ask them about the village above or the state of the land we were in, but the souls were tired and refused to speak of it. We made camp in the dead forest that night. 

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