《Malhar's Totems》


 Prologue

    Mumbai, India


    Summer had finally come. The streets of the metropolis, a city people said never slept, were thronged by people of all kinds, their skins wet with dripping sweat. He was no exception. The heat was terrible to bear. After a mild winter, a harsh summer had attacked; he did not like it. His white kerchief lay clutched in his fist, its ends dirtied with the dust that blew with the warm breeze. Cars zipped past and bikes raced as if following a serpentine path. On the footpaths, the street vendors sold their wares. The hawkers prepared dishes of various kinds, ones that he knew were the specialty of Mumbai.


    Mumbai. His city. His hometown. Unfortunately, many years ago when he was but a child, he had had to leave it and go with his parents to Bangalore, a calm hill-station at that time, which now had become a bustling place full of people who aspired to be a part of the IT crowd.


    Right now, his vacation was coming to an end and the need to return to the silicon valley weighed heavy on him.


    His mouth watered at the smell of the delicious-looking vada pavs that were being sold on the nearby footpath. A lady was making more of those round, oily potato vadas behind the stall. Tempted, he moved towards it. He wasn¡¯t going to have them in Bangalore where the same cost him twice as it did here and tasted half as less as those he savored in this city of dreams.


    ¡®Ek jumbo dena (Give me one jumbo),¡¯ he spoke to the vendor.


    The man selling the delicacy smiled and took a hot vada from a steel plate and sandwiched it in between a pav, another food item that was a specialty of the city. Placing the vada pav on another round plate, the vendor handed it over to him.


    He chomped on it as soon as it came into his hands. It would seem as if he were hungry, but more than hunger, he felt a growing thirst. His throat was parched and he wondered when he would find a shop that sold those cold plastic bottles of mineral water or even a stall that sold juice. But there was nobody nearby. The road stretched as far as his eyes could see and there were very little shops on it. Corporate offices dotted on either side, its gates guarded by brusque-looking people wearing uniforms. He grunted. His house was still four blocks away -- that was where the residential zone would start. Shops run by traders were much more concentrated there as they found more business on the residential side than the industrial. Having finished his vada pav, he paid the vendor with a ten-rupee bill and walked on the footpath, his paces brisk, wanting to get home before the mid-noon sun burned his scalp.


    A purring sound came from somewhere nearby. His ears pricked up at the noise and looked at the grassier plot of land enclosed by a huge ring of bricks with a slanting entrance that faced the main road. Cat, he thought. He loved cats. They were adorable, he always spoke, much to the annoyance of his friends who found the presence of felines to be frustrating. More often than not they were scared of the four-leggers. He moved towards the compound, something moments later he would wish he had never done so.


    He pushed open the gate. It opened with a creak loud enough to have a few passers-by look at him curiously. It was as if their eyes were pointing him towards the rusty old signboard that read ¡®Trespassers not allowed. Any that are found to be doing so shall be fined Rs. 2000/-. As Per Court Orders.¡¯ He raised his brows but carried on nonetheless. The purring sounded as if the cat needed some attention. Perhaps it was stuck in a bush. Perhaps it was hurt. He couldn¡¯t bear the thought alone.


    The noise grew louder. He quickened his pace and moved in the direction of the voice. He was almost at the center of the forbidden land when he stood perplexed. A frown had encroached on his forehead. For one thing, he was sure that he had heard the cat cry, and the next, he was confident that the voice had come from where he stood now. Had the cat run away? No. He shook his head. If it had, he would have seen some movement.


    Had he been a boy of quick reflexes, he would have seen a shadowy figure crop up behind him and place a kerchief that reeked of chloroform. But he was not. Darkness took him and he quickly fell to the ground in a swoon.


    ¡®Good to meet you, Viraj,¡¯ voiced the attacker, a joker-like smile on his face.


    Bangalore, India


    Radhika burped out loud in a restaurant much to her own embarrassment. Trying desperate to hide her face behind a raised up menu card, she looked hither and about, wondering what people around thought of her. She was very people-conscious. She had always cared about what opinions others had of her. Sometimes, it was a plus, but most times, she felt hurt. If truth be told, people did not seem to think highly of her. They considered her weird and at most times stayed away. No matter what she did, she couldn¡¯t get the positive impression she so desired.


    The burp did not seem to have rattled anybody to her fortune. Radhika heaved a deep sigh and lowered the menu card to gaze at her only friend, Pooja, who stared back at her with a curious smile. She grinned back and blinked her eyelids twice in succession. Pooja did not seem to think that weird. It seemed that Radhika had the habit whenever she felt nervous.


    ¡®Coffee, Radhika?¡¯ asked Pooja.


    ¡®No, thank you. Stomach full of donuts.¡¯Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡®And that too chocolate,¡¯ laughed her friend. ¡®Chocolates are heavy food, you know?¡¯


    She nodded. ¡®Yes, but saying no to chocolates? That¡¯s an insult.¡¯


    Pooja laughed again. ¡®You and your chocolates!¡¯ After a sigh, she continued, ¡®I shall have a cappuccino though. I am a caffeine addict and I need my cuppa.¡¯


    ¡®Be my guest,¡¯ said Radhika, shrugging her shoulders. No sooner had she said that, her phone started buzzing. Annoyed at the name that had popped up on the mobile screen, she hesitated to pick up. It was Aman, her ex-boyfriend. The ringing stopped after a while. She heaved a sigh of relief. Her fortune was, however, short-lived as the phone started to hum its tone again. ¡®Pick up the phone already,¡¯ complained Pooja, giving her a burning stare. She grunted and punched the green button on her phone¡¯s keypad.


    ¡®Aman, I don¡¯t wanna speak to you,¡¯ she spoke into the phone, rather loudly. ¡®Please don¡¯t waste your time calling me.¡¯ She put the phone down, having ended the call. Her mouth twitched and became queasy as she felt her friend surveying her intensely. ¡®What?¡¯ she snapped.


    ¡®Nothing,¡¯ replied Pooja, her tone as if in retreat.


    Radhika hummed. She knew her friend well enough to know she would snap back at her. It was only a moment of time before she would be flooded with her questions. And this time it would all be about Aman. Why had they broken up when their relationship was going so well? What problems had surfaced? Couldn¡¯t they have worked it out? Wasn¡¯t she going to...ever...forgive him for whatever he did? She had no mind to answer them now.


    ¡®Excuse me,¡¯ she said, rather surprisingly. She stood up. ¡®I need to leave now. Work calls.¡¯


    Pooja frowned. ¡®But you...you¡¯re on a holiday.¡¯


    ¡®No, I am checking back in to work. Holidays makes me want to kill myself. Work will keep my productive, help keep my troubles away.¡¯


    Waving goodbye to her friend, she walked briskly towards the door and as she left the restaurant, she cried an ouch as she felt a sharp prick on her hands. She clenched her fists, trying to drive the pain away, but all it did was to enhance the sensation. Her body turned red and her head began to ache. Swaying, she fell down to the ground with a thud. With the last glimpses her vision brought her of the outside world, she saw a tall man hovering above her, smiling like a joker. ¡®Two down, two to go,¡¯ he chuckled.


    Hyderabad, India


    The engine honked like there was no tomorrow. Only then did he remember that his head was out of the platform looking in the other direction. He jerked back in the nick of time. A minute or two more and he would have been dead. Beheaded like the criminals of old. Phew! He sighed.


    Looking around, he found people ogling at him as if he was suicidal. He couldn¡¯t blame them. He had been careless a few moments before.


    The train halted and the coach in which his ticket had been reserved was right in front of him. Second AC. Dragging his heavy trolley-suitcase, he reached the door, checked whether the reservation list had his name on it, and then hoisted his paraphernalia into the compartment. He climbed soon himself, eager to find his seat before a throng of people ushered in and made it hard to walk the narrow passageway that ran from one end of the coach to the other.


    Even as he moved to open the door that stood as a barrier to his need of getting inside, he heard a tap on the door of the adjacent toilet. The sound came in quick succession. Tap. Tap. He wondered whether anybody was stuck in the toilet. He checked the lock. As usual, the lock stayed on. If someone was locked from the inside, the lock outside wouldn¡¯t have rested on the thick bolt. He shrugged it off as a figment of his own imagination. After all, he had had little sleep last night. His mind was playing tricks, he told himself.


    He turned and then, a step or two forward, he stopped. There it was again. The incessant tapping. An invisible ruckus. He eyed the toilet again and frowned. Impulsively, he unlocked the door and looked inside. There was nobody. He cursed and made to go back when he saw a tall man wearing a Joker mask come at him with a thick rod. The last thing he remembered as he fell on the ground were the words, ¡®Gautam. Well, too easy,¡¯ that came out like the croaking noise the frogs made on the muddy banks of ponds.


    Pune, India


    She was a night-owl. Noon had finally come, the hot beams of sunlight pouring in through the open windows, the curtains behind which were shifted to the side by her mother who glared at her angrily. ¡®Manasi, uth laukar. Barah wajle ithe (Manasi, wake up. It is twelve already),¡¯ she scolded.


    Manasi yawned as she woke up. ¡®Ago, Aai, zhopu de na (Mumma, please, let me sleep),¡¯ she whined, her voice lazy.


    She could see her mother fume. ¡®Kai zhopaycha ved laagle tula? Aaj naahi zhopaycha. Dada yetoch aaj. (What sleep addiction has got into you? No, you are not sleeping today. Your brother is coming home).¡¯


    Nodding, she got off her king-sized bed and hurried off towards the washroom. Once inside, she splashed a handful of cold water on her face, the chilliness driving away the drowsiness that was in her. She had not gotten enough sleep the night before, her mind rendered turbulent by the horrific dreams that had assaulted her. Visions of bloodied earth and ravens feeding on carcasses had terrified her all through the night. She could not wish them away and had only been able to sleep once the dawn began to slowly creep up in the east. Her head still felt heavy, her eyes still feeling as if they would close anytime. She splashed her face once more and let out a loud gasp, water dripping from her lips. Taking a brush, she applied a white paste on it and brushed her teeth like lightning. Though she felt like taking a nap again, she could not help but feel excited about her brother coming. She had not seen Karan for months now.


    Her phone began to ring. ¡®Damn!¡¯ she cursed and ran outside. Her phone lay on the wooden table; it was vibrating. Its screen highlighted the caller¡¯s name in green; however, in this case, it was just a ten digit number, unknown to her. A frown encroached on her forehead. Whose number was it? Regardless of the answer, she bent and picked up the phone. Holding it to her right ear, she asked, ¡®Who is this?¡¯


    An incessant buzzing, like that of a bee, rang through the phone. Its frequency kept on increasing and her eardrums felt like bursting. The phone vibrated intensely in her hands. She dropped the phone on the ground and closed her ears with her hands, driving away the strands of black hair to the back of her head. Her eyes opened wide as she felt a warm wetness near the bottom of her earlobes. She brought one of her hands in front of her eyes, sharp and green, and balked at the sight of crimson that was her blood. She fell down in a swoon on the ground. She hated blood.


    Above her unconscious figure, a tall man bent, dressed in black, and smiled. His face was covered by a Joker mask. ¡®Manasi, Manasi, Manasi, you must be careful picking up a stranger¡¯s number, no?¡¯ he chortled. ¡®It¡¯s time now.¡¯

 Viraj

    I am Viraj and I am stuck in a place I have no memory of.


    The thought I had in my mind fit the situation I was in so perfectly. The place I was in, I had no memory of it. In fact, it doesn¡¯t even seem the world I live in. Everything around me is so futuristic: the capsules speeding from building to building, the outer portion of the skyscrapers made entirely of glass, roads so paved that strange vehicles zipped past. Yes, strange vehicles. To my shock and surprise, they flew rather than drove. Looking at them, I remembered the cartoons and movies I watched. Frankly, it reminded me of The Jetsons.


    Last thing I remembered was the land where people were forbidden to enter according to court orders. But I had. All because of a cat, which had never existed in the first place. And then someone had come from behind me and held a white towel against my nose. I remembered swooning and seeing a joker smile.


    A loud horn had awoken me from the slumber and I had found myself looking at this world that seemed not my own. Nothing about it was familiar. Where was I? What was happening to me? And like an answer to my questions, a white arrow appeared in the sky, moving from building to building, over roads and pinpointing tunnels. I frowned at the sight. That arrow looked like a mouse pointer. Intrigued and confounded at the same time, I followed the arrow, which led to the leftmost corner, after which I could not see anything. I tried but all I got was a headache.


    The arrow was now pointing at a shimmering window that had suddenly opened up, right of a blinking green arrow. I looked at it shell-shocked. The very nature of it made me think of the few computer games I had played when I was a younger.


    New Game. What Game? What is happening?


    The arrow clicked on New Game.


    Everything around suddenly went black and then in the split of a second I was transported into a woodland village. The scene in front of me played like those Youtube videos I watched every time, except there was no pause or skip button.


    In front of me there was a vivid looking character standing and I could feel his thoughts inside of me.


    A raven, dark as the void that surrounds the earth, perched on a branch of a thick-barked tree, its eyes on a young Kai walking past the charred remains of his erstwhile home. He was oblivious to its presence, his eyes watching tearily the black planks of wood covered with soot and ash, sensing the lingering doom that had come a fortnight ago, and his ears pricking up at the screams of those who had burned inside. Tears streamed down his cheeks, glimmering with a silver gleam that showed once before the droplets met the earthen ground which once was green but now was black. The plants that grew there had all died; not even his dog had been spared. And he...as long as he left the villagers alone, he was left to be himself, alive yet ostracized. Nobody from his village spoke to him or had any dealings with him save the occasional villager who had once been his neighbor or friend and took pity upon his condition. They would buy him food and let him take water from their wells, what little they could spare. Times had been tough. The winter had been dry and the spring had come with such a heat that had never been felt before. Not to mention, rains had been sparse since a decade.


    Yet in him was no feeling of mercy for his helpers. He held no gratitude for them...they who had stood idly by when those murderers with branded logs of wood, flaming with golden fire, had surrounded the house and yelled at his father, ordering him to come outside and face justice for what crimes he had not known. Or perhaps he did. In this age of the world, praying to God was a crime punishable by death or whatever punishment the courts decided. To his shock the villagers had decided that death was apt for his family. He would have also been inside had he not gone to the next village to buy some supplies for the renovation of the house his father had been planning for a few months. When he came back he found everything burned and it was only through his friend, Manu, he had come to know of his family¡¯s predicament. The news of their death rattled him, even now. It was tough to move on, especially since the seeds of vengeance had already been planted in his heart. He wished a destruction so terrible that the skies above thundered and the earth beneath him shook. The oath he had taken the townsfolk heard and within their walls, their bones quivered.


    He stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowed at the sudden turn of the wind. It was cold and splashed against his face. The pounding sent him to the ground, falling on his back. He muttered a curse, his hands clenching a fistful of the ashen earth. Behind him the raven let out a loud caw.


    Fearful, he surveyed the surroundings. All around him was a forestland, one of the few that had remained on earth, that too only because of the many dharnas his family had staged against the infamous companies. Not even that had earned his loved ones any sympathy. No, they had been burned alive just like it was chronicled in their history texts that spoke of a massacre thousands of years ago when the current age was still young in reckoning. That was when the so-called witches were burned on wooden pyres, accused of being the spawn of evil.


    In the woods he thought he saw a black smoke slithering like a snake, albeit in the air, weaving in between the trees. He crawled backward towards a broken fence that still to his surprise had remained unburnt. He tried hard to get up but it felt like he had been pinned down by an unseen force that did not want to see him on his feet. Every time he attempted to stand, he was pushed down, although gently. It seemed the force did not want him harmed either.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    He had heard of asuras and danavas in the mythological books his family hoarded. What this smoke-like creature was he perhaps could tell if he could consult them. Alas, they too had burned alongside his family!


    Above the moon hid behind dark clouds, its lights slowly withering until an absolute-like darkness settled in his surroundings. He shivered in the increasing cold, but more so because of fear. Heaving a deep sigh, he wondered whether tonight would be the end of him. Poor Kai, his conscious mind taunted.


    A pair of gleaming red eyes loomed in front of him. He tried to scream but found no words could leap out of his gaping mouth. His long black hair stood tall as if he had been struck with static. His teeth clashed against each other, making a sound like one would in a severe winter, and his eyes...they looked straight into the crimson, imprisoned within its gaze.


    Behind the gleaming eyeballs trailed a smoke-filled body. The creature was shaped like a snake, a huge snake. The smoke twirled around his body like a python would its prey. Fear gripped his heart; his pulse raced and broke all previous limits. His mind conjured all manners of incantations he had learned since childhood and yet none came to his mind now in his time of need. Why had he to die like Karna?


    A hiss came out of the mouth of the creature, now open and seeming like one of those black holes that the scientists confirmed were in the void surrounding the earth. It smelled foul.


    He prayed to God in what seemed to be his last minutes of living, to save him from the grasp of whatever this thing was in front of him. He heard no answer though. Clenching his hands, he closed his eyes, accepting his imminent death. Perhaps this was a blessing. In death he would not have to go through the torment the death of his family had wreaked upon him for a fortnight. Today he would escape.


    The darkness opened up its mouth wide and gulped him inside. For a moment he seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth, with darkness all around, and then the next moment, he stood up tall and stared at the standing ruins. His eyes now gleamed a same red as the creature had. A smile on his face, he strolled towards the woods, the moon showing its face once again in the sky. The darkness vanished in a puff as he made his way into the forests, disappearing in the swath of trees that surrounded his home.


    Meanwhile, the raven let out a caw again and flew high into the sky, as if it had seen too much and grew afraid, followed by a huge pack of its kind, numbering in hundreds. Down below in the village the people looked at them and shuddered thinking that the end of the world was nigh. Trumpets bellowed and the village bard sang of the doom that was about to come, shouting out the blame that was assigned to young Kai who they had let live.


    I could hear everything. The thoughts of those people. The thoughts of that young man Kai who walked into the maws of a demon. The whole cut scene had terrified me. Now that it had ended, I found myself near a wooden shack. I stood there confused.


    A sound alerted me to its presence. From the right, a textbox hovered, long and stretched. It finally stopped in front of me.


    I frowned and started to read the text.


    This wooden shack is where you shall come every time you wish to fast forward time or save the game or store your inventory. There will be many such wooden shacks in the game, but you will have to buy them. Remember: they cost a hell lot. But this one, it is free. Courtesy of Kai. Go on...go on ahead. Take a peek inside. Perhaps you will find something interesting. Maybe an explanation.


    Kai. Wasn¡¯t he the one he had seen a vision of just before he had come here? I gave a low grunt and turned away from the shack only to find that I couldn¡¯t go anywhere other than towards it. It was like an unseen barrier obstructed on every path save the one the funky text had spoken of. Out of options, I strode with brisk paces towards the shack in the middle of a woodland in the midst of nowhere.


    The shack was quite smaller compared to his house. It was not even a 1 BHK. A single room but large contained a cot whose bedding was made of straw, a wardrobe made of redwood, and a small table upon which lay a table lamp and beneath it a small letter folded and bound together by a red ribbon. My vision shaded again. Another textbox hovered to my right hand side, this time a rectangle, and in it was written another piece of text.


    This shack is your safehouse. In here, nobody shall attack you, nor can you attack anybody. Nobody other than you can come into this place unless you have invited them. However, when and if you attempt to buy other safehouses, I, Kai, shall let you know that others will be disguised. But do not worry. When your eyes shall fall upon the building, you will be able to identify it by its name. And no, it is not The Shack or Safehouse. Have you learned Japanese?


    No, I did not learn Japanese.


    I read the text again. Nobody shall attack you. What did it mean? If I went outside, would I have cause to worry? Would someone attack me? How would I defend myself? I hardly knew any fighting. What if this...game needed me to know martial arts? I wouldn¡¯t put it past this man...Kai.


    There was another sound. The rectangular textbox was glowing red. Another text had appeared and the font of the previous one had grown smaller.


    Here in this box, you shall receive all my messages and instructions. Perhaps even a little help, every now and then. But I wish you would not just stand here thus. Move around. There¡¯s more to be seen in this shack, however abysmal and disappointing it must seem to you.


    I moaned. ¡®HELPPPPP!!!!¡¯ I shouted at the top of my lungs.


    But there was no answer. Not that I had expected it. A cool breeze gusted in through the open door with a whoosh. Save for that sound, everything else was silent.


    I moved forward nonetheless, still flabbergasted about my situation. I did not understand any of it. How had I ended up in what seemed to be a computer game as every minute passed? I kept trying to answer this question and every time I did so, a buzzing pain surged through my head.


    I am Viraj and I need help getting out of here.