When there
is a left over thought which for some reason is beyond the comprehension of the
environment around it is reasonable an idea to leave behind a note. I did not
know the objective of this practice till an old friend came to me narrating the
following incident. He used a lot of strange diction which led me in the course
of the narration to think that he had lost his coherence over time but
eventually I could not ignore him.
I quote the
following narration verbatim:
The light is
upstairs where a boy was said to have left behind his deepest regret. In this
house where a toy wakes up beings from deep sleep there seems to be not a trace
of any spirit of revival. Knocking on the doors in search of the lost boy,
three men stand waiting for someone to open but for fifteen long minutes there
is no sign of life. At last footsteps can be heard towards the door. The door
opens and the sight of a confused elf with dim vision can be found. “Have you
found him?” asks the man. “Not so. But we managed to find out that he has left
behind a note. We came to see it. We just want to ensure..” “Don’t. You may
come in and search. I have not heard of him leaving behind a note. Even if he
did I doubt it would be intelligible.” interrupts the elf. The three men enter.
Tired of the
long investigation they sit down and wonder where the boy could have gone. For
some reason they did not start searching straightaway. The night outside is
howling like a wolf in search of the hollow soul that could possibly reside in
any being. The wind however does not do much to pacify the music of the moon
light. They thought it wise to close the door and prevent undue visitors from
entering their mind which is the very house they are in. They then think
through the circumstances and question the confused man about this boy who
suddenly disappeared. “He used to spend hours in the attic. I never knew what
interested him so much there. I would return every evening when all would be
quiet. I would call out ‘Rajan’ but there would be no reply. I would tend to
assume that he is playing in a nearby garden. What kept him late is something I
never bothered to understand. By the time I buried myself in some of the
paperwork that I had carried along with me, it would be late night. I would
hear some music. For many days I could not tell where that music came from. One
night however I heard his voice.” One of the three men, Badhal asks “What kind
of music was it?” –“It was, I think, the new age classical music largely
instrumental.” “Please continue Mr...” “Never mind my name. This fellow called
out for some water. I said go and get it yourself. He replied that he was
repairing some idiotic toy of his.” “I got some water and placed it near his
room. He would open the door and let his hand out, pick up the glass and close
the door. I never got to see his face. Did you hear that, never!” “Why didn’t
you open the door?” –“It is none of my business, Sir to open his door.”
Badhal
contemplated for quite some time. It seems like hours before the silence gets
broken. “Let me examine the toy” he said. The second man concurs while the
third does not respond. The elf brings
the toy and Badhal looks at it. Before he could grab it the elf drops the toy
by accident and it breaks. There is a sudden power cut. It returns...not to
worry, it returns. Badhal cannot see the two gentlemen along with him. He can
only see the confusion. “Where have they gone?” He calls out their names. They
do not respond. He goes towards the door. There is a power cut again and the elf
starts shrieking. Badhal gets a panic attack. The power returns and the two
gentlemen come downstairs. “The attic is locked. There is no sign of any note.
I fear we are going nowhere.” Says the second gentleman and the third does not
respond. The elf picks up the broken toy and says, “Once broken it can never be
mended”. Badhal says, “I am afraid with no cooperation from you sir, we cannot
find Rajan. Do you have the keys to unlock the attic?” –“I am afraid I have
lost them. That fellow never would tell me where he leaves them. Once I found
out they were under the cellar. I took them to open the crazy attic when he was
not there. When I opened it out came smoke that got to my eyes and I fainted. I
recovered but did not know what happened in the interval between lack of consciousness
and eventual recovery. Was I taken to the hospital?- No idea.” “When I regained
my memory the attic was locked. I said blast it and resumed my chores.”
“What
exactly were your chores?” asked Badhal, who is so distracted by the background
events that he is not able to ask the right questions pertaining to the
investigation. Badhal never really cared about logical questions. He believed
that the foundation of the superstructure had to be shaken now and then by what
appeared to be irrelevant questions. They would wake up the sleeping labourer
by a fresh pool of thought which would prevent resorting to linear delusions of
all sorts. What he did not notice in logic he more than made up for in his
eccentric interrogations. The elf seemed too disturbed to notice this.
The men
decide to leave. “We have to get going now. Maybe tonight is not the right
night.” The concept of a right night as you can see for investigation makes
less sense to someone who would seek refuge in common sense under the hygienic
assumption that common sense is common when in fact the phrase is a misnomer.
“Wait” says the elf, “I have something to show you with respect to the attic
which perturbs my imagination beyond articulation. I am quite sure it will do the
same to you, although we belong to different worlds”. They follow the being till they reach the
attic. It is customary to wait for a while and reflect on circumstances such as
these, for what is lost to the surroundings can never be retrieved by effort. Badhal
and his company see the lock to find the dust not by any means reassuring. It
seems like ages...centuries so to say judging by the rust of the lock and the
cabinet. It is not overstating to say that Badhal is alarmed. “How old is this
house?” asks Badhal but before he gets a reply there is a power cut. “Don’t you
have an emergency light anywhere near by?” yells Badhal. The elf does not
reply. The second gentlemen shrieks and then the power returns leaving Badhal
and the third gentlemen shocked to see him dead. Before Badhal can do anything,
the lock opens up on its own and a hand emerges holding a dagger dripping with
blood.
It has been
five years sir and no one has heard from Badhal and the other investigator.
“Has the note been found” I asked. He replied, “Yes and it has been given to me
but I was asked to not read it till I meet someone who I know for sure would
keep this a secret.”
He opened
the note. It was for some reason red and I wanted to ask him. He guessed as
much that I did and replied, “It is believed to have been written by the boy in
the attic.” “Let me read it.” He read it aloud, “I was a lad like any with a
bright future and a sealed fate that was very becoming of my generation. But as
I grew up gradually, I nursed a fond obsession with the supernatural that has
not been explored by either Science or Religion. The reason for this sudden
interest emerged from a study of some of the rarest collections of books in a
library not too far from the playground that the reader may be familiar with. Among these books, I found works by two
writers whose names or origin I will not disclose in this note. Their subject
matter deals with conversions of the brain never to be imitated by ‘the Centre
for Artificial Intelligence’3 kilometres from the bay, as you would be familiar
with. This is not all. They also delved into the transformation of energy where
the eventual destination of matter is a star. This star is invoked by members
of a secret society who are not human beings. For long the unsolved mystery as
you know is regarding the existence of aliens in outer space. Have you actually
ever thought about beings existing underground? You have been too consumed by
events that are anthropocentric that you cannot see what lies underneath the
eyes. Any mystery has become to you at best an intellectual luxury. Just when I
was about to leave the library, someone grabbed me and locked me in what was
for long believed to be an attic. This house that you may have heard about is
not located above the ground but layers below the earth’s surface. No one can
know but me. Yet you may drop in if you wish to see what I have become.”
The reader stopped
reading and showed the instruction to get ‘there’. We wanted to see this place
and see what has happened to Badhal and the two investigators. We also wanted
to see this lad who welcomes our visit. We reached a place that seemed quite
normal. We followed the instructions further to be led to a house not to be
found underground but very much on the earth’s surface. When we
entered, we were greeted by a strange being who looked different from anybody
else I have seen. He did not speak a word but gave us a glass of rum which he
asked us to dilute with water and some concocted essence. Then he led us up
stairs. It seemed as though we were in a trance but not a hypnotic trance.
Slowly I no longer saw my friend who carried the note. I no longer saw my
friend who had accompanied me all this while. When I reached the top of the
house led by this strange being, I suddenly realized I did not question him
despite wanting to. It seemed as though I was stuck. I saw at last the attic
with the lock of dust as described by my friend with his strange narrative.
Then there was a power cut and the power returned after an hour only to
fluctuate. However, despite the closed doors and windows there was a formidable
breeze. The fluctuation rattled me as I saw three men holding an incandescent lamp
next to the attic. The being that led me to the floor on top unlocked the attic
and entered it. In rage burning with sudden bursts of fury I ran to the doors
of the attic but before I could stop the doors from closing the three gentlemen
switched off the incandescent lamp and all I could see was the lock closing
automatically and gathering dust. Then it seemed as though fifty minutes had
passed but when I saw the clock the lock opened up and a hand emerged. A voice
uttered the words, “Give me the glass of rum that you prepared”. I dropped the glass. But before I could run
out off the house I became the fourth gentleman to hold an incandescent lamp to
the hand that shall emerge.
The End
***