Short Fiction

Kingdom of Paradise

Ashabori Mayurakkhi

A thousand stars gleamed and twinkled from the clear moonless skies, making the sands glisten like little photons of light reflecting off tiny beads of glass. A chilly wind was blowing across the open desert, causing the sand particles to leave their earthly restraints and rush through the cool desert air. Nothing, apart from a few cacti and an endless sea of sand was visible under the starlight. The only living being in sight was a large snake that wound its way across the desert noiselessly, leaving behind a faint trail of its movement on the sand. To it, the world at that moment seemed to be nothing more than a huge kaleidoscope of shadows and colours; a never-ending illusion of light and darkness.

Suddenly the snake stiffened. Its muscles tingled as its senses detected some unusual vibrations in the earth below it. It could barely make it to the shadows, before its slit-like eyes caught the sight of the reason for the tremors.

In the faint starlight, a camel was running across the open desert, so fast, that in the dim light, it just looked like a black blur. Seated on the back of the camel was a small figure, clutching the camel's neck so tightly that his roped hands were an unhealthy shade of violet. The nocturnal wind carried forward a soft whimpering sound, audible only if you strained your ears, and concentrated, wiping off all other thoughts from your brains, emotions from your heart and fill your mind with an interminable silence.

Then you would see, as the snake did, the camel and the child clearly, maybe also hear stifled sobs, punctuated sporadically with screams and wails. Then you would suddenly realise, all you heard was the sound of silence...

Back in his country, the village encompassed the river, the trees, and the meadows-all kissed with the tropical sun. The sounds of the waves sometimes drowned the cuckoo's call; at other times fell into a sleepy silence. The palms and coconuts undulated in lazy motions. The serene stillness interspersed with the murmuring of the leaves. The blue sky splashed with milky clouds and fiery gold. It's all so endearing, despite the broken thatches of the huts, and shabbiness of the clothes hung in front of them...

Today it was nothing but a painting evoked by memories. Memories of the boy on the camel.

And they kept on coming...

The stranger's smiling eyes had instantly put a child's heart at ease. So when he had offered to help the boy find his friends in the fair, he felt very relieved; especially, since it was in a village far away from his home, where he had never set his foot before. Suddenly, the image of his mother's face glided against the backdrop of the toy stalls, wooden nagordolas, and sounds of excited voices, anxiously awaiting his return.

The stranger had led him through the crowds to a quiet place- far removed from the sounds of the fair. His final memories involved a sweet taste in his tongue, which slowly gave way to a bitter sensation, before his brain started to get fuzzy and the world around him started to turn black...

Then the memories started to blur. Woodlands slowly transformed into deserts, and villages into cities. Faces changed, as did their languages- from intelligible to unintelligible myriads of scenes and landscapes that melted together in a hazy outline in the horizon.
***
The air rushed past his ears. He could not hear the sound of his screams, as he locked the neck of the camel in a death grip. The desert air absorbed his tears till he was parched.

Suddenly, his hands slipped off. And the camel reached the finish line without a jockey.

Red... So red... Everywhere... Redder than a thorny rose... Redder as troves of rubies... Redder than the setting sun... Redder than the velvets of the jewelled carpets of Paradise...

The desert slowly sucked up the red.

The river in his village flowed along like it always did. Multitudes of crowds thronged its kheyaghats (quays). Crowds of delighted children plunged into its fluid surface, spraying thousands of water droplets, infused with the innocent joys of childhood, towards the blue sky dotted with the colours of numerous kites carried around by the eastern winds. Their laughter sweetened the air and lightened the breeze.

But the river felt so lonely. An unfathomable emptiness filled its insides, while its surface clocked itself with an apparent nonchalance.

The trail of the snake also vanished in the windless desert air.

Ashabori Mayurakkhi has just sat her O level examinations. She aspires to be a physicist and a fiction writer at the same time.