Nothing to hide

 

Darker than usual, the night was as deserted as it could ever be. The sky frowned, with the lightning strokes drifting as down as they could. When the lightning struck the old dusty pinnacles of the temple stationed on the old narrow street, it seemed like a sinister pair of eyes gleamed through the hidden corners.

The man having treaded on the street by error, could hear the Sanskrit spells being recited by the deepest of the voices he had ever heard. It was as if it was coming from deep within the ground. He kept walking, pretending to be not bothered by the clumsy decibels. His heart felt heavy as he stealthily moved forward. Gulping down his saliva, he just could not acclimatize to the eerie underbelly of the night.

As he moved forward, he could see the blurred glimpse of an opaque end. It was a dead end to the narrow street. Exposed to the dead end, he felt a light press on his lanky right shoulder. Yanked away from his musings about the end, he howled and jumped backwards only to find two heart shaped leaves from the peepal tree above his head, dropping down the hem of his linen shirt.

He experienced a little warmth being forced down his larynx. It was not the leaves that landed hard on the pavement, but the mysterious energy dropping down his knees. He felt as if his call for help got subdued by the sudden rustling of leaves. He turned around and a bump of unseen air pushed him to head towards the rustic temple. He staggered as he aimlessly darted towards the staircase of the senile temple.

His heart started beating faster with each step he ascended. It was dark with no signs of anyone as far as the sight could go. The statue of the deity stood in front of him and the temple bells clanged above his head by the strong gusts of wind. His sight then, suddenly transcended upon a little gleam shooting towards him from the right most corner behind the statue. He felt a magnetic pull on his chest, drawing him slowly towards the mysterious gleam. As he treaded, the gleam distanced itself too, leading him to an array of chambers beneath the temple which were usually locked but were open that day. But he didn’t notice any of that, all he saw was the charming gleam, it was an equivalent to the hypnotic beam of energy.

The gleam suddenly vanished as soon as he crossed the turmeric line laid out at the entrance of one of the chambers. He gained consciousness upon its disappearance and saw an old man reciting spells, sitting in front of the havana kund, pouring ghee after each spell.

“Welcome! You will now guard my wealth,” the old man yelled while pointing towards the earthen pots and a pile of files surrounding him.

“Wait, what?!”, the man questioned.

The man stood up and tied a black thread around his right wrist.

“You are now obliged to take care of this wealth till any mortal comes here on the night of the poornima who is not interested in the wealth just like you,” the old man explained.

Having said that, “I have nothing to hide now!”, he wailed and his body disintegrated to ashes with the fire in the havana kund losing out its strength.

The whole frantic situation left the man in a state of absolute terror. He turned with a motive to escape, however, the rustic wooden doors closed before he could cross the same turmeric line. The chamber devoid of any light had inordinate quantum of wealth and an ordinary man to boast of and nothing to hide.