Historical

“Jaidev,” his mother whispered to him, as he ran into her arms. “How was your day?” “Good!” he answered vigorously, as they gave each other their ritual hug and kiss. “And the weekend is finally here!” He bounced around with the energy of a rabbit. But happiness is temporary, and is often struck down. Jaidev was a young boy of about eleven living in India. He belonged to the sizable Muslim minority and lived with his two parents and his brother, Tarang. They lived in a small, mostly Muslim community on the coast of India. They were not in poverty, but neither was Jaidev’s family bathing in priceless gems. However, regardless of their social status, they enjoyed a content life, by being faithful to the Holy Koran and finding strength in Allah, and living as a close and loving family. When they returned home Father had not yet returned from his busy work day, and Tarang was still over at a friend’s house. Jaidev helped his mother to begin preparing for the evening meal. They organized the spices and counted the eggs. They measured the milk and the water just perfectly. Jaidev’s mouth was watering by the time they got out the curry. A little later, Father returned home with Tarang trotting behind him. Tarang was fourteen years old and was sometimes rebellious, sometimes calm. One day he would yell and scream and not agree with anything, and the next day he would just sit and listen like an awakening bird. The family sat down to the delicious meal that Jaidev and Mother had strained all afternoon to create. The fumes of the curried chicken wafted throughout the house, engulfing and seducing all who came near. After eating, the children and the adults split. Jaidev and Tarang strode off to the bedroom they shared, while Mother and Father cleaned up in the kitchen and then went off to their room. Little by little, the house subsided into sleep, and night crept with its ominous inky blackness over India and the world. *          *          * Dawn awoke with brilliant light over the ocean, but it served only as mockery of the dangers of the waters. Jaidev and Tarang woke up at sunrise to go out and play on the sand and swim in the salty ocean. They told their mother and father, who were still quite sleepy and just nodded their heads before going back into the bliss of their unconsciousness only moments later. The two brothers raced and wrestled in the pale morning sun. The grains of sand moved in a rhythmic dance with the feet of Jaidev and Tarang as they played for hours on end. Beads of sweat began to form on their bodies, pouring down into the soft meadow of dunes. The heat became too much to bear. “Watch this,” Tarang called out to Jaidev. Tarang turned toward the ocean and began to run. He became a blur, then a streak, and then he dove, head first, into the refreshing, cool water. “Come on, Jaidev,” he shouted playfully. He stood up and then let himself fall backward with a splash. The water engulfed him innocently. “It feels so good!” he taunted. Jaidev smiled back. He began to gallop like a madman and was about ten yards away from the ocean when he heard a scream. Time slowed. Then time stopped. The ocean curled up and became a lasso. It ensnared Tarang and tugged. Tarang disappeared under the water. The ocean curled up and became a lasso Jaidev halted at the tip of the white foam. “Tarang?” he shrilly shouted. The only response came from the gulls up above, chuckling rudely to themselves. He shouted again. This time the ocean responded. The waves and the salt and the currents and the water became one mass of energy. They sharply receded into the depths, in the blink of an eye. What lay before Jaidev was one hundred yards of empty desert where the sea and his brother had just been. “Tarang?” he whispered, this time in a choked voice and so softly, that the gulls did not laugh, for they did not hear him. Jaidev just watched, in amazement, in shock, in awe, at the barrenness of the stretch where life had been only moments earlier. There were clams and fish and other strange creatures that were left behind. Why couldn’t they have been claimed back into their watery homes and Tarang been left on the beach laughing and rolling as they had been only minutes, no, seconds ago? Or was it minutes? Time had become distorted in such a way that Jaidev had no perspective anymore. He had nothing to compare time with. Had it been five seconds since the disaster? Had it been fifteen minutes? He did not know. Jaidev was oblivious to any danger that could still be coming. He very gently plopped himself down in the sand, and prayed. He prayed to Allah that Tarang would come back. Then he thought. He thought about the ocean and the birds. He thought about the sand and curried chicken and Mother and Father. He thought about the wind and the sun and the terrible thunder that shattered the air when lightning fell from the sky. And then he opened his eyes. He realized that he had to run back home to tell his parents about Tarang’s disappearance. His toes hugged the sand as he turned around. He walked, and then he began to sprint. He ran to the house, but as he got there, he saw Mother and Father sprinting out the door. Why are they running too? he thought. Jaidev spun around. The sea was in a fury, rampaging up the beach toward their small community He began to run faster than he had ever run before. His legs stretched and his feet flew in a constantly hastening tempo. Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look back, he thought. He caught that thought, killing