Awakening



The thunderstorm outside continued to send shudders throughout the structure. The old man could feel the enormity of what raged just outside, as the floor beneath his feet shook. The stick he held, steadied him as he examined the pavement, looking through a small window carved into the wall, trying to figure out who had turned up at his safe haven, because, he had heard footsteps right before the rain pattering on the leaves of the trees had muffled it.

Nobody had ever strayed this far into the forest in all the years he had lived there. And from his knowledge of the ancient texts, he was sure this philosophically significant place could never be discovered unless the seeker was pre-determined to find it. But, only a few knew of its existence, and so he wondered if it was someone from his brotherhood.

He spotted a silhouette lying on the pavement. Whoever it was, they seemed to have been rendered unconscious, maybe because of the fall or due to mere exhaustion. 

Limping slightly, he made his way towards the doorway. Pushing against the old squeaky door, he managed to pry it open and the splash of cold rainwater across his face was unwelcoming. 

The walking stick, in the slippery condition, was of no use to him. So, he dropped it and with quick but steady footsteps, he walked towards the fallen. The cold that crept in, ached his right knee where he had been badly hurt many years ago when he had first set foot into this place on an uncannily similar wet evening. 

He had reached the spot and was looking down upon the figure of a woman whose face was hidden underneath her drenched hair. She had something tucked underneath her torso.

He slowly bent down, lifting her with all his might. There was still so much strength left in him, after all those years of training. Her arms clutched the package tightly, even while she was unconscious. He threw her onto his left shoulder and walked towards the wide-open doorway, behind which was the light source that lit his path. The trees around him were trembling in agony, while he took each steady step towards the warmth of the safety he had learnt to call ‘home’.

Her breath was laboured, as he finally lowered her onto the floor. He quickly brought out the sheets he had woven from the cotton that grew in the surroundings. He dried her hair and her forehead, wiping away the dried blood that had accumulated. 

He covered her body from the last of the sheets he had left and slowly stepped away. 

He didn’t want to pry the package out of her hand and something about her seemed strangely familiar to him.

His thoughts paused, as she started to move from left to right. Her eyeballs seemed to oscillate quite rapidly underneath her eyelids that stayed shut. She was simply reacting to the pain that had erupted throughout her body thanks to the sheets that covered her and the campfire that burned quite a distance away, providing her body with the warmth that initiated the blood flow. 

Her eyelids fluttered open, and her pupils slowly rested on the old man, her rescuer. 

He stared back, a realisation was building up and his heart seemed to forget that its place was within the ribcage. 

They both stared at each other, every wisp of memory playing out like it was a movie. Not finding the words that needed to be uttered, yet, not being able to look away, they stared on.

Notwithstanding the urge, a gasp escaped her throat as she whispered “Father?”



Photography by Peeyusha

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