Nephilim

8 - The Tune

I began with the library that was about 8 minutes walking distance from my shit hole. The Central Library, till a couple of years ago, would remind me of my life. It was an old, dilapidated, browning structure among more old, dilapidated structures. The place was uninhabitable except by perhaps a couple of rodents and insects. Everyone preferred to visit private institutions or college / school / club libraries. The old-men-and-women staff that worked here complimented the building perfectly. But then a couple of years ago, some kindly old people, Parsis perhaps, had kicked the bucket and left a truckload of funds to the library. Enough for it to stand tall and white and polished with a grand staircase that made it look almost like a city hall. Many people do not know that the Central Library of Mumbai, at one point of time, used to be the City Hall. Since being revamped, the library stopped reflecting my life. It was new and shiny. It was now a symbol of some kind of modernism. It was the kind of modernism that was ugly and pretentious. I found that although my journey wasn't looking as pristine and polished as the building, at least it symbolised something far more pleasing. My life was miserable and beautiful. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry so I just decided to live the one handed to me.

I entered the place, the old fellow sitting at the newly furbished reception desk looked up at me from a big binder file and gave me a relatively toothless grin. I asked him where I could find the city logs and archives. Usually, the government does not release those. But the event I was looking for was over 50 years old so it shouldn't be difficult to obtain them. He explained to me, rather crudely, that I wasn't allowed to access those unless I had special permission. I told him I was looking for stuff that went down about 200 years ago. He looked up at me for a moment. He knew me. I had visited the place on plenty of occasions when there was a rat dead in my vents and my house stank. I was always quiet and minding my own business. I was one of their good people. And in my Black Book, I believed the library owed me one for being one steady visitor before it had it's plastic surgery. This was me calling out that favour. The old man must have understood that because with a grunt, he led me down the hallway to a corridor which further took me to a partitioned area packed with shelves. These shelved were dusty. The wall tiles were fostering grout and there were dusty boxes on the shelves too. Almost all volumes were covered with a thick dark leathery book jacket which hadn't been cleaned in years. No one occupied the tables in this area. He pointed out a particular section to me and left me to it.

I dropped my bag on one of the wooden chairs and started observing the volumes on the shelf that the man had pointed. I took out one that specifically covered the years I was looking at and took it to the desk. Usually, I am always into the stuff I am reading. I wouldn't care about the stuff going on around me or what anyone was up to. Nothing concerned me and nothing bothered me. But not today. Today, I felt distracted. Like there was an ominous presence inside my own head that was trying to tell me that I should not read anything and just go home and collapse on the bed, never wake up. I chalked it up to laziness and not having read much in the last few weeks. The book told me there had been a couple of earthquakes and fires and electrical disasters all over the city.

I wonder if that first Nephilim could've caused an earthquake without knowing he could. And then caused some more because he could. I narrowed my search down by focussing on that particular year I was told by Zoya. I didn't have a date and I doubted she did or she would have told me. I looked at all the major fires that had occurred all over the city. I narrowed it down further by looking at establishments that were old and big and located far from other heavily populated buildings. It came down to 2 majors fires. The structures were not very far from each other, just about 20 kilometres. I walked over to the boxes lined at the shelves and hit jackpot. Old city blueprints. Making sure I was not being observed, I pulled out the blueprints of the two structures. Both were of the same size and same make. One of the structures was set on fire by a maniac who had then been arrested and punished. The other, however, remained an unsolved mystery. It was definitely arson. No suspects. I tried reading up more on it but there was a dearth of information. The plans revealed that there were 6 floors to the structure and 4 wings. No one had died and the fire had been incontrollable. The means of the fire were unknown. Magic. Obvious. The files said all the people who had lived in the building or witnessed it were now dead. I refused to believe it. I was now a part of a world which had angels and demons and all kinds of creatures in them. I had a world which a lot of people were affected by and had no idea of its existence. It should have felt exclusive but it didn't. All those people had a world that I wasn't a part of too. I was insignificant. I was nothing. They were nothing too. Nothing was all that mattered. I was positive some creature that had super powers which included a really long life knew what had gone down in that fire. I needed to find them.

I reached home and decided to hop into the shower. It was when I was alone that I felt that ominous presence most prominently. I had dismissed it earlier because of the more pressing tasks but now I thought about it. It got louder. It wasn't a thumping in my head or anything. More like a piano tune. At the library, there weren't many people in the section I was but there were plenty inside the building itself. Now I was alone at home. The tune got louder, sharper. I felt the adrenaline pumping in my veins; as if I wanted to break the wall with my bare hands. Louder. I thought about finding those people who would know about the fire and taking them apart, limb by limb. Louder. Louder. Louder. I stumbled out of the shower, clutching my head and hit the mattress. I felt a part of my mattress burning. It was extremely hot. Louder. Louder. Louder. I took out the enchanted notebook Zoya had given me and opened it. There was a new entry. Probably why the book was so hot. I tried to focus on the alphabets before me and the piano tune in my head receded. I breathed a sigh. I was not sure whether it was relief or disappointment, and then I turned to the new entry in the notebook.

There was nothing special about today or yesterday. Training, meal, break, more training, meal, break. That's what our days are like. Also, I have been spending long hours at the library reading up as much as I can. The guy who recruited me is actually quite pleased with the interest I am taking and says I will be assigned to one of their best mentors if I keep it up. I haven't seen Zar again yet. And I am glad. He actually creeps me out. I am going to a gathering tonight which includes a couple more trainees and will ask them about the Elders. I just feel knowing a bit more about them will help us with what went down all those years ago and what exactly is a... well, the N word. I am not saying it because one can't be too careful. Hope you're well.

I shut the notebook. Nothing important, then, I told myself. I really wanted to ask her about how the Elders were elected but with her head and savvy, I'm pretty sure she'd ask that herself. Also, I needed to find a way to be able to communicate with her. I needed to know about this enchantment cast on the book and see if it could work in reverse. Asking Tina was out of the question as I didn't want her anywhere near Zoya. Tina and the angels already saw me as a threat, or en route to becoming one. There was no need to speed that process up. I believed it was time to go back to my old friend, Vishwa. The charlatan must have something that could help me.