ONCE UPON A DAY…
‘As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed into a gigantic insect’-Kafka, Metamorphosis. And mine was no dream either. I was there, all awake, senses intact, feelings in order…. And yet, it seems a dream.
Ever got the feeling that you are being watched even when you are asleep? It’s that exact intuition that made me sit up and look straight into the eyes of an exceptionally handsome man, sitting on the chair by my bedside. He was about thirty, a generous beard and beautiful auburn hair right up to his shoulder. His eyes were glowing with a divine light and his thin lips had an edulcore smile. I was a little embarrassed and gathered my bedclothes. I looked askew enough and before I could ask he raised his hand. And then I shuddered for the sunlight that came in from the window behind him, came straight through his hand. There was a hole right in the center of his palm. I stuttered and tried to get up but he leaned closer and said,” I believe an introduction would be futile. Now listen, child, I wish to remain incognito. You will not, repeat, not, disclose my identity.”
I emerged out of bed in a half trance and clambered down the steps to the kitchen. I had my breakfast in silence. There he was sitting in my bedroom and I was chewing cornflakes. He could have gone anywhere! Why not the pope! Mother seemed amazed that I didn’t complain about the mandatory milk glass. I ran upstairs, got dressed and went in my bedroom. He was leafing through my books and looked smilingly as I entered.”Umm, sir”, I stammered, “just how am I supposed to take you to school?”. “Don’t worry”, he said. Only you will be able to see me. As he waved his hand, the school bag flew to me. I looked inside to find all the books packed to routine. I didn’t have the nerve to ask how. Stammering thanks I said, “Right, lets go then”.
He sat by me all through during the bus to school. Occasionally, he would ask me about someone or something on the street. I had to whisper my answers though lest people should think I had gone mad. Already some were giving me dark looks for not allowing anyone to share my seat. But I was so immensely excited. Everyone talked of his return but to come to me! Same went on at school where he sat by me. I scored a remarkable 20 out of 20 in my math’s test. I knew all the answers to history and geography. He was a bit irritable during the moral science class though and I had to pacify him.
After school, we went for a walk in the park for our bus had had a burst tire. (He said it would). We talked about the world; apartheid, nuclear power, war, hatred, communalism, consumerism, the degeneration of religion and even man’s reaching Mars. He was strangely reticent. I asked him a few questions and he answered them but there was so much pain in his eyes. I had reason to believe that I had caused it by discussing such depressing issues. And then, I could not hold it any longer and asked him,” Did you really come back from the dead?”. “I did”, he said. “And I shall come again, my dear friend, and judge all”. There was a puff of velvet smoke and he was no more. I stood there alone in the park. Now how many of us can claim to have Jesus as her friend!