As long As You Live

Shocking Confessions

Tears poured down my eyes. I couldn't process what my mom had just said- my father had been killed by the woman in the footage. More than grief, I felt a stronger feeling arousing in me- vengeance. My blood was boiling. All that ran in my mind was to avenge my father's death. I wanted to scream and break a few things. But I controlled my emotions and looked at my mother. My mother clearly understood that it was time for explanations- a long explanation. So she cleared her throat, and began-

"I guess you are familiar with the theory of immortality," She stated.

"Yes ma, immortality means the person or animal doesn't die; they live for eternity." I answered.

"Exactly." My mother continued." It has been mentioned a huge number of times in literature, mythology and folklore, but only the versions are different. Most of us are familiar with few of these versions. The amritham of Hindu mythology, the water of Lake Mansarovar at the foot of Mt. Kailash, Aab-i- Hayat of Islam, the Philosophers Stone and the Elixir of Life of Alchemy, and the most familiar one is the H-"

"The Holy Grail of Arthurian literature?" I asked. My mother gave me a weak nod. I was slightly glad that I knew something related to what my mom was saying.

"Well, we found traces of historical artifacts which have the power of immortality.'

I had many questions running through her brain. Is it real? If it was, why is it not publicized yet? And the most important question, who were 'we'? It was a tough choice to decide which one should go first.

"Who does 'we' refer to, Ma?"

"'We' refers to the secret association of undercover archaeologists I used to work with."

Her words felt like ice on my eardrums. My mother was an ex-archaeologist. I couldn't find words, so I nodded in response. It was a signal for my mother to resume.

But she couldn't continue anymore. After a tedious day at work, all the news was too much to take. She just sobbed pathetically. But when she looked up into my eyes, I noticed her eyes were bloodshot red. Not because of all the crying, she hadn't cried for long. I realized her mother was tired. I noticed that I felt tired myself. I couldn't wait. But I guessed it would be a really long story. So I gently laid my palm on my mother's cheek, and said," Enough for today ma, you can tell me the rest tomorrow."

In spite of all the fatigue, I couldn't sleep. I twisted and turned all night. Whenever I dozed off, a horrible dream took away all the peace in our sleep. I could picture the woman stabbing my father with some kind of weapon repeatedly, and then I woke up. I was turning somniophobic. When I couldn't take it much longer, I ripped the blankets off myself and pulled the curtains aside. It was sunrise. I watched as the sun's rays gracefully danced across the dark sky. It almost looked like a water color painting. I opened the window. The climate was welcoming. It looked like a message for me. The sky seemed to tell me to never lose hope. But I couldn't admire it for long. I had unfinished business to think about.

So I woke up, brushed my teeth, and got ready for a morning jog. I felt it would help me cope up with the stress. So I dressed up in shirt and shorts, picked up my iPod, and opened the door to the hall, facing an unexpected scenario.