Fear from unknown

One day it finally happened. He died and went away, never to return. Nobody missed him but was scared of his return from the unknown. He had warned his sons of the consequences of not following the death rituals to the tee. The sons too had the right intention but his going was under hostile circumstances. It was past midnight when he took the last breath and the rains were pouring in heavily as if to announce their reluctance in having him up above the sky. Star, he could never reach courtesy his karmas and he was as unwelcomed in heaven as on earth. His family didn’t want him and now the heavens were pronouncing their resistance on his arrival. Still when you die you need to go far without any control on the destination, so the man had no choice. His sons tried to give him a traditional goodbye but weather undid their plans.
Not that the sons shared a special bond with Him or were grieving about the loss. Just the fear of His return made them take some effort. They had lived enough with his tantrums and were now hoping to be left alone. A tyrant in his time, He ensured that life around him would be anything but miserable. He was a man of his own principles and his way or the highway was a written law. The sons listened to him because he had lots of money to bail them out of their miseries. During his lifetime and till his last, He made life difficult for them. Till their mother was alive, she bored the brunt and gave him top rated service because Indian wives are taught to suffer (in silence). Once she was gone they were praying for him to depart. The wait was long and finally He was gone.
Gone away but still every moment they lived in fear. Fear couldn’t get the best out them and they panicked over simplest of things around. If the crow cawed during lunch, they would look at each other. “Is he back?” were the unspoken question and still they were so paralyzed by fear that they couldn’t step out to shoo it off. Days were still better. Nights were nightmares with the feeling of being followed by the dead man. They kept the lights on all the time and were accompanied by escorts to meet nature’s call. That wasn’t enough for them and they kept looking back to double check. Sleepless and tired they just wanted to carry on and enjoy the rich man’s leftovers. But fear was being the spoilt sport.
On an eventless evening, a knock left them moved. Their wives had gone out to splurge on the father-in-law’s wealth. So the brothers were all alone to answer the call. The older ordered the younger to open the door. Reluctantly, the younger brother had to go, first time in ten days on his own. He went and never returned.
The older kept calling, “Who is it? Why aren’t you answering?” No response from the front and silence made him restless. So he went out to check. He could make out his brother lying on the floor even before he reached. Shocked he walked ahead to find his answer. Then he saw. A man carrying his father’s face and built was standing out begging, “Can you please give me something to eat, son? Haven’t eaten in two days.” And the last thing the elder brother could feel was the floor beneath him shaking furiously like an earthquake.


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