Yamraj
YAMRAJ.
Chotto Ram was a farmer in a small village, with a small land holding. He was trying to make a living out of
his land, which he had inherited from his parents. As with most farmers of the district, it was a hard struggle
just to eke out a living from not so fertile a land. Furthermore he had to depend on vagaries of weather and other
such natural disasters.
When there was a drought, the farmers had a hard battle against the specter of starvation. Some farmers had to borrow
money from the village moneylender with his exorbitant interest rates, which few could manage to payback the
borrowed money plus the compound interest incurred. They could not bear to see their land being sold in order
to repay the money to the lender and few did commit suicide and for which their families had to bear the brunt
and move to the city, with even more miserable prospects.
For the past few years there had not been a great yield from his land in spite of his hard work and that began to
undermine his zest for life .He became moody and irritable both to his wife and his son and treated them with
harshness but he knew it was his own fault as being in a foul mood. He sought the bad company of the village
scoundrels whose main aim was to escape from the harsh realities of life and to seek refuge in the haven of
drugs and drinks and he was introduced to this.
Whenever he felt down, he sought refuge in these artificial paradises. His family saw that he was ruining his and
their lives too but he paid less and less attention to the dictates of his conscience. The more he felt bad, the greater
he indulged in these, taking even some hard drug.
Soon he was introduced to opium and this became his favorite panacea and after taking it, he fell into a
visionary reverie, when he moved into rose coloured fantasies and amorous adventures. He became a sort
of grand raja ruling over a country of beautiful women who were ready to be at his bidding anytime and his
amorous advances even met with pleasant responses from the ladies He found his favorite mistress among
them and night after night flirted with her calling her ‘mera gulab’ or my rose. His wife and son heard him
calling that name during his sleep and thought he was dreaming of some rose garden and were not duly alarmed
with his illicit affairs.
But soon his rose garden began to take on some somber hues, as the lady concerned did not pay him much
attention as if she had found someone else to confer her favours upon. Chotto felt slighted and no longer
loved his ‘mera gulab’ with the same intensity. Eventually she left him and in his mood of dark depression,
he began to be visited by a dark figure of Mara or the evil one.
He began to have some horrible dreams as being dragged by that figure with a noose around his neck.
Whenever he took a dose of the opium, the figure appeared and he began to lose all his taste for opium
and sundry drugs. He took to the locally brewed strong sharaab, which burned his inside like a dose of acid.
He stopped enjoying his work in the fields and began to have dizzy spells. Combined with the concerns for
his family, his health began to deteriorate and he began to spend more and more time in the bed.
The atmosphere of his house took on a dark mood of doom and dejection. One night the evil one visited
him and began to drag him but he resisted but fell down under the blow of the evil one. Following day
in the fields, he did not feel well at all and something depressive keep interrupting his thoughts.
He came home early, drank a lot and went to bed early.
In the middle of the night, he woke with a sudden start and felt something heavy pressing down upon
his chest and which he tried to throw off but the effort caused him a great deal of pain in his chest and soon his heart
was thumping hard and trying to burst out of his body. Then suddenly something like lightening hit him
and he found himself standing by his bed. There was a dreadful figure stretched out on the bed with
twisted limbs. On second look, he thought that it looked like him but he did not had time to think about
it as two figures dressed like policemen came in and held him down by the arms. He did not want to go
and held himself firm but he was dragged with brute force out of his house into open fields.
‘Who are you? You cannot burst like it into people’s homes and frog march them like that.’ He showed his annoyance.
‘You do not have a choice. We are the messengers to take you away.’
‘Whose messengers?’
‘Of Yamraj. The Lord of death.’
‘You mean I am dead?’ he retorted.
The messengers nodded in affirmative.
‘They must be bluffing. I do not feel like being dead.’ He thought
He wanted to show them his strength and kicked them.
They held him by the arms and just lifted him like a piece of cotton wool and proceeded briskly.
All that exertion began to affect him and he felt hot, thirsty and began to perspire profusely.
The landscape around him became searingly hot. Soon the passed a field which had plenty
of trees with a cool wind blowing and he saw a batch of swine grazing there. He took a fancy
to those creatures.
‘I am very tired. Can I rest here a few minutes please?’
‘We are in a hurry and have other things to do. You know there are plenty of other people on our list.’
‘I implore .I want to look at that herd of magnificent creatures.’
‘You are dead. You should not get attached to such worldly things.’ they replied
*
There was a very dark man sitting on a sort of throne and he had blood shot eyes, with a frightening mouth.
He remembered having seen something like it. He was reminded of a statue of Goddess Kali in his
local temple. ‘I wondered if he is related to her.’ He mused but the figure looking at him in such
ferocity and he blurted out.
‘Can I see Dharmraj, the lord of judgment?’ He though that he would be of less terrible demeanour.
‘You have to pass my gate before that.’
So everything was lost and he waited for the painful death of his being.
There was an enormous woman sitting behind Yamraj with a massive ledger and he consulted her.
There had been a mistake. It was not his turn this time.
Yamraj addressed the messenger.
‘You have brought the wrong man. I do not want Chotto the farmer but Chotto the cobbler.’
‘I know that man and he lives in the village next to mine.’ He said trying to be helpful.
‘You fools. Can’t you do your job properly? Bring me the right man.’ Yamraj addressed his
messengers ferociously
The messengers vanished in fright at the bidding of their lord and Chotto was left alone wondering
what was going to happen to him.
‘Go back to your home.’commanded Yamraj
The woman looked at her ledger and put a line through the name next to him.
‘But Sir. I do not know my way back.’ Chotto pleaded.
Yamraj put his burning hand on his forehead and pushed him harshly.
*
He was lying on some hard surface, draped in white sheets and things around him were fiery
hot indeed. He tried to sit up. There were lot of people weeping around him and a priest was
chanting some mantras. He tried to get up to look around. At the site of the corpse moving t,
there was a panic among the gathered crowd, people screamed and ran off as fast as they could.
He was on a funeral pyre and the logs around him were burning hot red and the flames were
just going to devour him. Hopping he made his way over the burning cinders onto the safer
ground of shamshan bhumi, the burning ground and lay there exhausted. He was puzzled as
what to do next.
Durlabh Singh© 2015.
