Pravin Apte, a curator at a national library, stood looking at the mud that he had accidentally splashed on his shoes while getting down the boat.
“What happened sir? Is everything fine?” said the boatman in a slightly amused tone.
Pravin took note of the amused part and gave a silent glance to the boatman before walking away.
“This is some kind of joke; it has to be. Have you been to this place before?” Pravin spoke to his mother, “hello… can you hear me?”, Pravin looked at his smartphone’s display, the signal bars had disappeared.
One day Pravin’s mother had received a call from an attorney letting her know, one of Pravin’s distant uncles had left him some property in the form of a house in a small village.
Pravin’s mother was divorced. Now, it was just Pravin and his mother.
“You must go and see it. I mean we have to decide what is to be done with it, you can sell it if you want,” Pravin’s mother told him one day and Pravin decided to go ahead with it.
A train to the main city, then a bus two a small town and a boat from there is what it took to reach here.
Pravin moved a few steps back in anticipation of the signal bars reappearing in the corner of the phone screen. The bars did not come, but a drop of rain did drop on the screen. Pravin looked up as more light drops followed.
Pravin remembered his mother packing an umbrella in his bag. He tried to balance his bag on his right leg slightly bent upwards but it fell on the muddy road and Pravin stood not being able to think what to do next.
As the rain picked up some speed Pravin took out the umbrella after some struggle. He picked up the bag trying his best to ignore the mud and walked on. There was barely any sign of people living in the area. He couldn’t see anyone far ahead or back.
‘I should have asked the boatman about this place’ Pravin thought
“Lost…” a voice travelled through the rain muffled air
Pravin turned and moved back a few startled steps. It was a bearded man with an umbrella, wearing a uniform Pravin couldn’t identify.
“I did not understand,” Pravin said and waited for a response that did not come, so he raised his voice, “the rain… I couldn’t hear what you said because of the rain.”
Signs of understanding appeared on the man’s face and he walked a few steps towards Pravin and raised his finger towards him, “you are not from here..”
“Yes, I am not,” Parvin said and he took out a piece of folded paper, unfolded it and showed it to the man, “if you could point me in the direction of this address, it would be of great help.”
The man looked at the paper and back at Pravin, “I don’t think you would like to be there.”
Pravin stayed quiet at the unexpected response.
The man spoke again, “Death has occurred at this place, the village hasn’t been the same again. People are leaving, you should too.”
“I will leave.. but even if for once, I would like to see the house. I will click a picture and return,” Pravin spoke
The man stayed quiet and then pointed ahead, “Straight, first right, you will find what you are looking for ahead. I will be waiting along with the boatman for your return.”
Pravin stared at the man walking away.
Pravin walked along the empty muddy road; the rain maintained its pace. The right bend appeared and that’s when Pravin had an abrupt feeling of a presence. Back in the city, there was very rarely a time when such silence could be experienced, in fact people had to travel away from the city to find any form of silence.
Pravin looked behind expecting no one, but there was actually someone, a young man who was drenched from the rain.
“Did the man in the uniform send you?” Pravin asked
The young man remained quiet, drops of rain falling down on and around him, then he spoke, “I would have asked you to leave, but I think you have already heard the words and have yet decided to come here. Hence, I have nothing else to say.”
“I will be on my way then,” said Pravin and walked away, he looked behind and saw the man still standing there.
He saw the house coming into view, it was an old one deprived of any maintenance. Some parts of the visible roof were caved in. The metal gates which opened to the house had broken down, plants had overgrown and covered what was once a stone path to the house, the glass of one of the windows in the front had completely shattered. The main door of the house was open.
‘This looks and smells like trouble, they wanted to get the property off their hands. So, they left it for me to deal with. Looking at the area, even if I put money into repairing it I might never find a buyer,’ Pravin thought as he looked around, ‘I guess I will let it sink into nature.’
Pravin took out his phone and clicked a few pictures for his mother to see. His eyes caught sight of a big photo frame, through the broken window. He suddenly found himself curious about that side of his family.
‘I will click a picture of it and I will be out,’ Pravin thought and he walked into the door and into the room in the picture. It was a drawing room with a coffee table with its glass top missing and several broken chairs. Pravin kept the bag near the table along with the folded umbrella. The photo frame was on the wider stretch of the wall. It was covered in dust.
Pravin found a torn cloth on one of the chairs. He used it to clean the frame and one by one the faces revealed. The first few faces he couldn’t recognise, then it was the face of his uncle who had left the house to him.
He recognised his maternal grandfather as well. The cloth moved to reveal the face of the next person standing and Pravin was very familiar with this one, it was him.
‘But how?’ Pravin thought
“Welcome son. There is nothing to worry about. You are with your own”
Pravin turned to see his uncle standing along with others who were present in the picture but had very much left the world.
There was a wind which swayed the trees outside. The stranger in uniform turned towards the boatman, “My apologies for making you wait, but I am afraid no one is coming back today.”
Occurance
Early Morning Memories 
2 responses to “Occurance”
Wow
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Beautiful! 💐
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