Desert- 2

Read part 1 here

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‘That temple’ Keesan inquired ‘One that stays locked is hers? Seti’s I mean.’

‘It was’ Huram whispered ‘From that very first day that we found our land, we seemed blessed with fortune. 

Our prosperity knew no bounds. There was no opulence, but of subsistence there was no dearth.

Our jagged tapestry of human suffering remedied itself the moment we reached this land..this very land where I speak to you of this tale Keesan’ and suddenly Huram broke down.

Watching his uncle weep filled Keesan with helpless sorrow. He didn’t know of any deities or gods except the one from his previous village and he had died years ago. Keesan’s only recollection from that memory fragment was of indisputable loyalty, faith and veneration that each villager possessed towards that deity. 

A man of many miracles, he wore a face pleated with wrinkles and sagacity; asked no one to genuflect in his presence and was often seen playing with children, watering the fields with farmers and helping in hospitals. He died a content man, leaving behind a thriving village which mourns his loss to this day. 

‘Did Seti make miracles?’ Keesan finally spoke, watching Huram dry his tears on his sleeve.

‘She was a miracle herself’ Huram spoke with a shaky calm ‘The very first moment we found her weeping near a flooded bank she blessed us with a land we could live on. A place we could cultivate and find livelihood to thrive. 

All the sickness and diseases we carried started vanishing a few weeks later. Those on death bed started recovering, malnourished children who played with her began blossoming with health to grow into strong hard working men and women that now weep the loss of their destroyed fields.’

Huram cast a dismal look outside a window seeing the still wailing procession of doomed peasants and ignorant little children playing with chips of ice. 

Casting a long sigh which nearly turned into a broken sob he continued ‘She belonged to the village, thought of us her parents and we worshipped her, for she was our god. 

Our celestial benefactor of twelve fingers who saved us from doom, gave us new life and continued to shower us with her blessings which she wasn't even aware of. 

As she grew so did her powers.

Childless couples sought her blessing and bore fruit, the sick, troubled and dying sought her to recuperate or pass away with dignity and all prayers were answered.

There wasn't a villager who wasn’t beholden to her holiness.

Each life in this village had been touched by her innocent mark, an indelible imprint that replaced every hardship with joyous contentment.

Upon her twelfth birthday she was consecrated deity of this village and given a new home which served as a temple, one that you spoke of.. locked and burnt down. 

I could never tell you what she looked like, for we never saw her for a child, a girl that she was. 

To us she was our god that bore no features; all we saw was her soul. To us she was our easy remedy from grief, a mental support we unflinchingly weighed on and as a deity she was quickly turning into an object we worshipped and burdened with our personal griefs without ever trying to even know that she was just as human as any of us..as human as you Keesan’

Huram looked like he was trying to find something as he spoke. Emptying out drawers, opening cupboards, fumbling inside empty pots with his fingers.

‘Sometimes I’d notice her playing with other children, jumping on hay stacks, chasing goats and riding buffaloes. That was perhaps the only time our hardened eyes would soften to allow the features of a happy girl sink in our hearts.

The only time we realized she wasn't just an idol we sat down to worship, but a real breathing child who liked being with others her own age. 

The villagers came to a conclusion and affixed for her a time each day to play with other children. 

Children are fickle, I learnt that when she was whisked away to a field each day to play with others children and carried back once the designated playing time was over. 

I think she resented that. Being fixed to a plan and stick to a playing routine she rationalized was not fun, just as it wasn’t for other children who were made to stick to a similar schedule so as to fit in Seti’s playing time. 

Suddenly no one wanted to play anymore and our deity slowly began retreating in a shell, refusing to meet anyone or bless her worshippers.

Our grand plan to keep Seti happy was without dignity and thus it was decided that no more oppressive agenda’s would be accorded to her.' 

‘The villager were kind’ Keesan beamed.

‘No!’ Huram answered in a growl ‘we were selfish and needy. We didn't resort to these measures out of sympathy. We had no wish to give her anymore freedom than she already had, for we never thought we were being tyrannical in our worship. 

Our very first concern was that she’d withdraw her blessings from our village were she to retreat into her own self any further and to avoid that we’d have done anything. Anything.

We were foolish just as we are still.

So we let our restrains purposefully lapse and Seti was allowed to be her age for a while. 

Just to look at her smeared in mud and drenched in puddle water one wouldn't have pointed her out as a deity, save for her sixth finger on each hand, apart from which she was just as naive and naughty in her innocence and mischief as any other.

Her childhood days so happy and vivacious came to a sudden end when she contracted an illness from a fellow juvenile. A sickness that blotted her infantile gaiety with a burning fever and weakness so heartbreaking we felt she’d die. There was not a single soul asleep in the village for the next month and soon she recovered, slowly, as did the other boy whom she’d contracted this fever from.

Oddly other children had suddenly started falling sick to this similar illness and it was on Seti’s suggestions that we found roots of a plant that were cooked in tea and fed to those ill helping them recover and we soon realized it was an air borne contagious disease that mostly children were susceptible to except the few that had already fallen sick to this once, and so this fever was kept contained among those who contracted it, keeping away those who’d once already suffered.

This setback had played havoc on Seti who was alone once again. With no one to play with she had taken to throwing tantrums and staying sullen. 

This would not do we surmised and so a child who’d already been through this illness and thusly at no risk to infect her again was inoculated in her life.’

Our gravest fault, her sweetest folly.

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Read part 3 - here