Shadow Of The Black Rose

2. GUNKA'S TRAGEDY

    Raman turned and saw an old man standing with a wooden stick in one hand. He was in pyjamas and a ragged woven sweater. It was tough to ascertain who was older — the house or the man.

    "C'mon in," said the man, waving his hand.

    Raman stood there mulling if he should go inside or go to the temple. But, his curiosity got him. He never really had anyone to talk to since his parents' sad demise. And someone opening up their door to him was as if they were opening their hearts to him. Plus, he eagerly wanted to know why the man hated the bird(when it was such a precious one). So he went in.

    The house was not enormous. It had a drawing-room kitchen attached, little furniture including an old rocking chair, a sofa(visibly moth-eaten), a rickety kitchen table, and a three-legged stool. At the end of the room were two doors, which Raman assumed one would lead to his bedroom. And what the second one would lead to, he had no idea. His eyes were still strolling when the man said, "Settle down ..." pointing at the wooden stool, slightly uneven.

    Raman took a quick look and said, "No! Thanks, Uncle ... I'll be leaving."

    The man narrowed his eyes. He clicked his stick and stared at Raman. Raman could feel his heart shaking in apprehension. But, he stood still.

    "There is some food in the kitchen ... if you want —" said the man, eyeing Raman's worn-out slippers and clothes.

    Raman's toes cringed backward.

    "I'm Gunka," the old man continued walking up to the kitchen. He slid one of the drawers open. Taking out a small bowl from inside, he poured porridge in it. "Eat it, son."

    Raman's cheeks flushed on hearing "son". He opened his mouth, and after a long pause, finally muttered, "Thank you, Uncle," taking the bowl. Gulping porridge, he said, "I'm Raman."

    "Hello Raman," Gunka smiled.

    Raman ate the porridge so fast that some of it spilled on his clothes. He was too hungry to care. Gunka chuckled in amusement, "You are so much like him ..."

    "Like who?" Asked Raman, a mouthful of porridge.

    Gunka's face suddenly sank. As though Raman had asked him a dreadful question. His smile faded. Looking at the dusty floor, he stammered, "He was ... is my son, A-Arun —"

    "Where is he?"

    "I —" Gunka shivered as he sank in the sofa, next to the window, "I don't know ... he was very young when I last saw him —"

    "But... ?" said Raman, puzzled, as he scooped the last bit of porridge and kept the bowl aside. He walked up to Gunka and asked, "What do you mean — you don't know?"

    Gunka grimaced, eyes falling to the floor. After what felt like one long minute, he clicked the window open. His trembling fingers reached out of the window and pointed at something... Raman stood his head out of the window, following the finger. As his eyes levelled up to the finger, he saw a cluster of dark clouds and countless birds zooming in and out of them. Behind the clouds stood the Jhilai mountain. Raman could feel his heart pumping faster. He gulped, "The Jhilai ..."

    Gunka nodded slightly.

    "But ... I mean how ... I mean ..." words fell short as Raman's voice faded.

    Gunka, who was still glowering, now had streams of tears pacing down his wrinkled face. In the midst, he sobbed, "It was all my fault ..."

    Raman was still trying to picture what had happened. But, he knew nothing, and presently, the bigger problem was Gunna crying. He raided deep in his pockets and found a napkin(mushy and misty), handing it over to Gunka, Raman groaned, "Uncle ... please stop — I'm here, let me help you, please stop crying."

    Gunka blew his nose heavily and darted the napkin in the corner. As he was tiding himself, a strange melody filled the room. It seemed like it came from far — but was getting nearer with every thump of cold wind entering the house. Wiping his face, he whispered, "You must go ... not safe around me —"

    Raman bent closer to hear the melody. He had never heard a tune like that before. Looking back incredulously, he snapped, "What is that?"

    Gunka's face turned white in horror. He looked as if he had choked on something. Raman asked tensely, "Tell me ... I'm not going anywhere —"

    "You should leave, son ..." hushed Gunka, his forehead now drenched in sweat, "Not safe this late ... that stupid bird, Monal mi-might come back soon —"

    "Monal? It has a name ... " snapped Raman.

    "Yes, that was a Himalayan Monal. Trust me ... She is nothing but the bearer of bad news — ruined my life years ago ..." Gunka scowled, shutting the window.

    Baffled, Raman asked, "Why would the bird come again?"

    Silence fell in the room. The tune had dropped suddenly. The sun had set, letting the darkness rise. Then the melody echoed again. This time so loud, it seemed as if it was coming right out of the front door. The bowl of porridge quivered as the cold wind breezed in. How it buzzed in with the window and door closed was not the least of concern with the floor beneath them vibrating.

    "They are coming —" hissed Gunka, rising from his sofa.

    He gripped Raman's hand and darted to the other end of the room. He pushed the handle, and the wooden door stood ajar. It was the back exit. A tiny grin appeared on Raman's confused face(thinking, now he knows where the other door leads to). The door was not big, but enough to snuck Raman out. Gunka drew his hand in his pocket and produced a shiny gold coin. He pushed Raman out of the door even before he could get a good look at it. Gunka handed Raman the coin, and said, "rush ... keep it for an emergency! Hope you stay safe!" and slammed the door.