Under the stars

Is he dead ? Akapt asked the tiger.

I told you that dogs are allergic to Mushrooms. The tiger said with grief in his tone.

Kartavya lay dead at the spot where the first sunlight touched the courtyard. Exactly where he had asked to be buried along with Smriti.

Did he killed himself? Akpat asked the tiger.

No. He was already dead when Smriti died. Today he just embraced it. It was important for him to be buried along with her.

Is this what is called love? Akapt quizzed the tiger.

Must be, the tiger replied pensively. She was the world to him.

But did she loved him too. Akapt was curious.

We will never know that, the tiger replied. But for the sake of peace, we must assume she did. Now let us fulfill his last wish. Let us burry them together.

I did saw a pick axe in the fire room, Akapat said. Let me go and get it.

Yes, you will have to do most of the labor. You know we tigers cannot dig.

…

It was almost evening by the time they buried them together. They heaped the mud over their grave and planted daffodils on the top.

Today, a dog will sleep in peace on a tiger’s watch, the tiger said. His eyes were moist.

I never knew that tigers can cry, Akapat said, feeling equally emotional.

Tears cleanse our soul, man cub, the tiger said. They are the sure signs that we are alive and somewhere down in us a chord still exists that connects us to the others.

Very true, Akapat muttered. I also feel connected to Kartavya and Smriti, like they always have been a part of my family.

And they will live forever in our memories. The tiger spoke.

Is it true, Akapt asked the tiger, that those who die become stars in the sky.

Well I have heard that one too.The tiger looked towards the sky and spoke. Considering the fact that all of us, you and me and Kartavya are made of the same stardust, it may just be true. But who became which star would be difficult to say.

I think you are right, said Akapat, looking towards the sky. There are so so many of them. I wonder how many people have to die for us to have so many stars.

Well everyone has lost someone they loved. Tiger spoke with melancholy reeking from his voice. Finding them in a stars makes the pain go away for a while. And then, he looked at Akapat, it returns with vengeance and kills you slowly. Like it had killed Kartavya.

Did you loose someone your loved tiger, Akapat asked.

Yes, I did, a lot many of them, the tiger said looking back at the sky. But I lost most of them while they were still alive. And that, the tiger said with a lump in his throat, is far far more painful.

I am sorry, Akapat said, I didn’t mean to hurt you.

I know that boy. I know. You are too innocent to hurt someone. The tiger continued. You know nothing of the meanness that drives the world. It will not only darken your skin, but it will dampen your skin and corrupt your soul.

Akapat, looked intently at the tiger, who for the first time spoke with animated passion.

and by the time, the tiger continued, you will cross the sea of green, you will wonder who you are. And beyond that lies another world, a world where the hearts are made with concrete and souls are molded with cash. That world will eat you alive. The only way to survive there is by eating someone else. I think, my boy, you should consider going back to where you truly belong.

I think I belong to the road, Akapat replied. Yes, I have heard about this world which entombs people alive. It sounds scary. But I need to reach there and risk my soul to find whatever little drops of innocence I may find. Maybe there would be one crack in the concrete where daffodils grow.

There are many of those cracks, my boy, the tiger replied. It there were none, I would have not been alive today.

Then we will connect them and breach the stubborn concrete, Akapat spoke with determination.

That sounds stupidly ambitious, the tiger said with disbelief. Best of luck with that. But you need to do it alone. I stand like a soar thumb in that wilderness populated by humans. I won’t be able to go beyond the far edge of the green sea.

Then, we have so little time together, Akapat reeked of disappointment.

Time is always little my boy, the tiger said, it is upto us to make the most of it. Come let me give you a hug.

Under the stars that glittered with memories of loved ones, by the grave in with Kartavya and Smriti coalesced into singularity, on the courtyard where daffodils grew, a stripes-less tiger with no claws and fangs, embraced a boy whose skin was transparent.

Where else does one find faith.

….