He woke up in middle of nowhere.
Sweat rolled down his forehead, on a decently cold night. The stars were all clearly visible in the boundless dark sky. He looked around, to realize he was lying in an old deserted sanctum.
Breaking through the dilemma he had walked almost five miles away from the rehab.
The mental and physical strain, together, had drained him to a point of giving up. He had taken refuge in a sanctum and in no time fallen asleep, out of giddiness; only to wake up with a startle because of the dream and the subsequent whisper.
It was a dream, the same one which had been disturbing him all through his childhood. It had come after a while to stir him up again.
The red moon! The steaming water in the lake surrounded by a white, thick blanket of snow! A beautiful princess like figure coming out of it… dripping wet, the vapour covering her frame… only her eyes visible through the steam mask, eyes that he had known!
His dream would always begin with the red moon and end with a flame so luminous he could actually feel its warmth.
The dream was no different this time, except that, he almost heard someone whisper in his ears, the words Magi and ChakChak.
Being too exhausted to delve much deeper, he fell asleep o'er.
The golden rays of the early morning sun peeped through one of the gaps in the dilapidated stone wall of the sanctum. He rubbed his eyes and smiled, as if, he had woken from a deep pleasant trance.
From not so far, three young men on bikes, he saw, driving towards him who appeared to be bikers on a mission.
In no time they had parked their bikes, which appeared to be born of a marriage between Harley Davidson and Bullet. They were as glad to see him as he was.
Seeing him in a dishevelled state they offered him water to drink and some food. He brazenly asked for more. They were kind.
They introduced themselves. He didn’t.
“Are you a home run-away?” One of the three men, with obnoxiously curly hair, asked.
“Aren’t we all running, somewhere, for something, for someone and away from something, someone?” He said.
“True, Man! This guy makes sense.” The one with an odd blue jacket said.
“That doesn’t answer the question.” The one with a weird shaped beard wasn’t as convinced as the other two.
“I am lost! Lost like most of us. You! You! And you.” He pointed at each one and said.
“I don’t agree with you, Mr. Sage, we very much know, we are in Ungaon, famously known for the best quality wool. It’s a small village which was considered to be a land of shepherds. See we aren’t lost!” The bearded guy reasoned.
“That is what your google maps and Wikipedia says about this place. Till a few seconds back I wasn’t even aware where I was, for me, this place was just one part of this entire universe till you spoiled it completely by giving it a name.” He said, finishing off the juice and the last bite of whatever was offered to him.
“I like this man! He is cool, man!” The blue jacket spoke.
“Yes! In fact aren’t we three also on a quest. Till we haven’t discovered the place we have set out for, it’s bliss. And once we reach our destination, the bliss fades off!” Curly hair affirmed.
The blue jacket joined in, “And I suppose the freaking bliss of discovering Ungaon has also faded. Very soon we shall have to move to another freaking destination.” Very excitedly he asked his squad. “So, are you guys in for ChakChak?”
Those two words fell like pebbles in still water, creating ripples through his being. It was, as if, the whisper was echoing back into his ears.
“ChakChak? Is what you said?” He asked.
“Yes, Man! It’s our next adventure. We shall be travelling next month to Iran. It’s going to be something man! It is a sponsored trip. A travel show wants us to do it for them.” Blue jacket couldn’t hold back.
“But you just said, it doesn’t matter which place we are in. So, how come you are so curious to know about ChakChak?” The beard asked.
“Some destinations we choose and some destinations choose us.” He spoke contemplatively.
He wasn’t too sure of what was happening. Was it just a coincidence or was it destined. He let himself glide like a feather, destiny playing gentle breeze, at times, and strong gust at others.
“Would you like to join us Mr.Sage?” Surprisingly, the beard asked.
“Yes, man! This guy would be great company. I love you man. Come join the gang.” The sweet blue jacket said.
“But we would have to ask the chic for letting him aboard.” Curly hair announced.
*Do catch up, next Friday, with your late afternoon cup of tea or maybe coffee, the story of sHE continues.
If you feel something in the blog touched you,do write to me at nozzer.p@gmail.com
To read the parallel story of sHE, Click here, NOW! https://thencp.wixsite.com/nonconformingparsi/single-post/2017/04/13/sHE---Leaf-1