Avan, Aval Adhu 505
“Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.” — Stephen King
Azhagan walked ahead like that shepherd but unlike that one that was tortured and crucified, this one walked out of the clearing that had the full moon bathing it in its soft yellow light and led them out into the darkness of the forest. Like sheep that trust the shepherd will lead them to fresh pastures and deep pools of water, Madhu, Dharmalingam and Thamarai followed him. In the near pitch-black darkness, they followed Azhagan's glowing form that buzzed and sizzled with a strange power and in their hearts they surrendered to his magic and to his will.
They heard footsteps all around them that even their frail human ears when compared to the creatures of the forest, neverthless picked up and recognized them as noises made by two legs and four legs. They understood that they were surrounded in all directions and realized that they were in the centre of a protective circle, that no power on earth could approach or break into.
Then Madhu's eyes picked up faint lights in the distance as their group neared them, she saw people standing around holding lanterns and some with sticks of fire that is known as Theepandhams. Feeling fingers clasping hers, she saw that it was Meenakshi's mother Thamarai who had reached out to her and recognized the fear and panic that was ready to explode any moment.
Madhurima threw her hand around her shoulders and said, ' Amma, it is okay. It is all right. I am here with you ' and then she took Dharmalingam's hand in hers and whispered, ' Appa, not only me, Ravi is here with us, in me, in you and in all of us including Meenakshi.
He nodded and tried his best but failed and a sob broke out of his broken heart.
They entered the clearing and stared in wonder at the tall neem tree and gazed with fascination at the small garden of flowers that grew wildly around its roots.. Then sensing a change around them and sensing a kind of disturbance, Madhu, Dharmalingam and Thamarai, looked all around them and saw a group of four men coming towards them carrying something on their shoulders.
It did not require a leap in intelligence and imagination for them to realize that the four men coming towards them were carrying Meenakshi on a makeshift stretcher and when it was placed down in front of them, they saw that the stretcher was more of a Paadai that is used to place the dead and carry it to its final destination.
Dharmalingam's eyes ran over the green paadai and noticed that it had been made of freshly broken branches that had been strapped together with vines and roots that had dared to be seen by their takers who separated them from their makers.
The sap of broken branches and leaves that had been torn and broken away from their parents seemed to cry quietly and he felt their blood and pain in himself as the fragrance of freshly chopped down branches that were now a kind of bed for his dead daughter who lay peacefully on a mattress of green leaves reached his nostrils.
Thamarai, Meenakshi's mother slowly fell to her knees and stared at the green paadai and looking up at her husband, ' See these beautiful flowers that are still clinging to the vines and see these buds that are still clinging to the stalks hoping in vain that they too will have a chance to bloom open and serve their purpose in life.'
Turning to Madhu, ' Ironic that my evil daughter gets all these privileges in her death when the truth and reality of her existence was such an ugly one.
Slowly and gently she removed the leaves and flowers that covered her daughter's body and stared at the two holes in her chest and touching the wound that was close to her dead daughter's dead heart, ' Meenakshi, Meenakshi, your heart has stopped beating. You are dead. Can you hear me now that you are nothing but a ghost and a spirit forced to wander the afterlife?
Placing a hand on the wound that was close to Meenkshi's heart, ' You did not expect this, did you? You surely would not have imagined that you will die at such an young age and that too with a wounded heart. How many hearts and how many lives you broke and tore apart in your anger and rage? How you made us all suffer quietly as you went about living your shameless life?'
Madhurima knelt next to her and throwing a comforting arm around Thamarai's trembling shoulders, ' Amma, she is gone. Please, let her go and let her be in peace at least now. She destroyed others because her own love and emotions destroyed her.
She looked at Dharmalingam and at Azhagan and at all those who stood in the light and outside it, ' She was a good soul. A great soul that was destined for great things and in my opinion, she was far more intelligent than even Ravi who we think is the best.'
Thamarai screamed in pain and in anger that felt both potent and impotent at the same time. Impotent that she had been unable to do anything to change her remaining child's destiny and potent because she blamed her newly dead child and herself for all the ruin that had fallen on all their families
' That is why it hurts and hurts so badly, child. She promised so much from the time she began to take tentative steps on her wobbly legs and fooled us into dreaming big things for her life and future. But all that was broken and ruined and for what, because she was obsessed with Ravi that poisoned her soul and poisoned everything around her.'
Madhurima hugged Thamarai like a mother would do her crying child and whispered, ' Amma, I am here with Ravi for you and Appa. We will take care of you as your children would have done if....'
Thamarai cried her heart out, ' Why do you lie child? I saw and heard Ravi say all those angry and hateful words. I heard him asking you to leave him and Kumarapalayam and that too hours after you got married and after having been separated for 25 years. Her poison has seeped into him too. I saw the same madness in him too.'
Madhu smile calmly and declared in a loud voice, ' Not Ravi. He is too good a soul and he will never become what Meenakshi was forced to become. Ravi will conquer his anger, hatred and fate's twisted plans. You will see'.
Dharmalingam looked at Azhagan with red eyes that had become eternal springs of tears and asked, ' Iyaa, Saami. My daughter is here. But where is my son? Where does he rest in this huge forest? Please take me to him. I want to see him and speak to him.
Thamarai too looked at Azhagan, ' My husband is right in calling you, Saami. You are a God for us. Please, take us and show us our son's grave where he has been waiting for his parents to come and visit him all these years.'
' But, you are already there ' Azhagan said and pointed to the ground on which Meenakshi's body had been placed and said, ' This neem tree is your son and all these flowering plants are from your son'.
Stretching both his hands out towards them, Azhagan requested them to take his hands and said, ' Place your hands in mine and see for yourself through my eyes' and when both Dharmalingam and Thamarai placed their hands in his, he smiled and said, ' Don't worry.'
Dharmalingam looked at him and echoed, ' Don't worry? Worry about what, iyaa?'
Azhagan smiled and replied, ' You will see for yourself' and closed his eyes and thought and the next moment, everyone and everything around him including the trees and plants felt a sudden surge of power coursing through their bodies and while Madhu, Dharmalingam and Thamarai stood staring at him, everyone visible to their eyes and invisible fell to their knees and placing their forehead on the ground roared, ' Pakalon,Maasilan,Kathiravan,Meykandan,Koman,Nikaran. Engal Kula Deivam Kavin Vazhga'.
She had not taken his hands and yet she felt his aura, his incredible power engulf her and enable her to see and hear everything that a normal human cannot.
All three of them heard his voice in their minds, ' Look down and see your son and where he has been resting for the past twenty-five years.'
Dharmalingam, Thamarai and Madhurima looked down and saw what remained of Sundaram after 25 years.
They saw his skeleton lying with its hands resting on his chest and they saw the roots of the neem tree had wrapped him in its countless tendrils and then they felt another surge of energy and their eyes suddenly saw death and what happens to the dead when they are buried.
Sundaralingam may have died as a human being but he, his essence had once again risen into life as the neem tree and had burst out of the ground as hundreds of flowering plants that lay all around them.
Azhagan whispered, ' Even in death, we serve out our purpose. We die but we live on in other forms of lives and as other forms of lives.
Death is not the end but a new beginning. We come to go and to come again and to go again.
“Analysis of death is not for the sake of becoming fearful but to appreciate this precious lifetime.” - Dalai Lama
“In the midst of death, life persists. In the midst of untruth, truth persists. In the midst of darkness, light persists.” - Mahatma Gandhi
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