Howling Wild

“It’s anxiety, Avirath,” said the man without lifting his eyes.

           “Wha... H-how, how do you know? You are no doc, Pranay.”

           “You don’t need to be a doctor to grasp the situation.” Pranay fluttered through the pages. “The report concludes everything is normal. Nothing is amiss and yet, you insist it is. So, where does that leave us?” He waited expectantly. On eyeing a contorted face, he sighed and added, “anxiety.”

           “Pah, such baloney,” retorted Avirath. “Me and anxiety? Man, did you lose your two pence or something?”

           “Ah, you intend to be on bogus medications than getting rid of your trouble in the most natural way, is that it?”

           Avirath averted his eyes at the mention of medication. That was the last thing he was planning to be on. He stole a furtive glance at Pranay. Could the man be right? After all, there was no tangible evidence proving an unknown element at the play. Avirath pinched the bridge of his nose and contemplated. All those medical visits, ceaseless thinking, fruitless consulting, and resources that went in. And what? Anxiety.

           “So, what’s this natural proposal?” said Avirath still looking aloof.

           “There is a cabin on my ancestral land. It is, however, far off from the nearest village. My wild guess is 8 km. There is neither electricity nor reception, so mobiles there are like white elephants. Enclosed on one side by a mountain and the other, river streams down from a knoll. Of course there is a jungle but I don’t suppose any wild cats are stalking the woods. But I did hear about bears, nilgais, and wild boars. You need to exercise caution there as they-”

           “All right, enough,” grunted Avirath, distressed. “I can see where this thing is going but I’m not going to... whichever land it is. Hell no. I’d rather live with anxiety than throw myself at the feet of the unknown.”

           Pranay’s lips parted, he grinned ear to ear. “Do you see where your anxiety stems from?”

           “How should I know?”

           “The Unknown!” Pranay took a moment so the words could sink in. “Dang it, man, you are so scared of the unknown that you sit on your sorry ass and think and think and think. A perpetual cycle of thoughts. From there germinates anxiety. Do you see how it is of utmost importance that you throw yourself, as you put it, at the feet of the Unknown?”

           All his life he had tried to fend off the Unknown. It was, as his parents had told him and so did every other soul he knew, stay ten feet away from the unfamiliar. Avoid it. Run away from it. And that is what he had followed, to the word.

           Ah, the irony! He recognized it.

           Although his heart did recognize his predicament, the skeptical mind of his refused to oblige. It was knocking on his conscience; pleading, begging him to think more. The noose was but mere inches away and once tightened, he’d fall back, doing more of the same thing.

           There they stood, waiting for Avirath’s words. And for that matter, even Avirath awaited his response.

           “I, I... don’t, I mean, I-” the noose was tightening; a few moments more and the hope will be quenched. “I don’t think-”

           Avirath felt as if a sword was being conjured out of thin air, closing onto his neck; though, it ended up splitting the noose and not flesh. For a moment, he was stunned, petrified. Then it came to him. Pranay was patting his shoulder. He only said, “Don’t!”

The ride was rather bumpy, leaving Avirath’s buttocks sore. No sooner did he stepped outside of the car, he shivered, tasted the dust, and smelled the burned gasoline. Coughing and fanning the air around his nose, he proceeded to pick his luggage. Pranay pulled out a small bag and stood waiting, looking beyond the horizon as if he was reliving some distinct memories.

           A couple of moments later, Avirath joined him. They did not utter a word; the silent understanding was settled without any premeditated thoughts. There they stood, calm and poised, allowing their spirits to take over.

           What seemed like an hour, the fleeting lasted only a minute or two.

           Avirath cleared his throat and nodded. Pranay returned the gesture and started towards his car. Avirath inhaled and exhaled a lungful of air, though his efforts to soothe his nerves did not translate into what he had hoped and so, he remained rattled even at this point. Was it the fear of the Unknown?

           Pranay rode out a few yards and hit the brakes. He tucked his neck out of the window and yelled, “Oi, I have heard someone hanged himself in the forest last year. So stay away.” He appeared to be enjoying while informing Avirath.

           Avirath cursed and cried something but the car’s engine was roaring and his words met defeat.

           He kept looking at the receding figure of the car, wondering how wise it was to come here in the first place. Then, he shrugged; might as well get on the move before the story of a man hanging himself invades his mind. Well, he did not know the story but his confidence in his vivid imagination was robust. Let’s not go there, he prayed and began his 4 km walk that would take him through the tickets, knolls, bushes, and the swallow part of the river, if Pranay was to be believed. I’ll just brace myself for anything and everything. He puffed his cheeks and pulled the straps of the bag tighter, taking the first step towards his destination.

           He did say the motivational line but hardly believed it.

           Toiling through ups and downs of the terrain, he reached the cabin after four hours and twenty-eight minutes, an hour and twenty-eight minutes late. Huffing and puffing, he let go of baggage and crashed on the steps of the cabin, trying to catching his breath. His chest raised and fell successively but his breathing stayed labored. Grunting and cursing, he clutched the side of his belly. “Damn it, my fitness sucks. Argh, it hurts so bad.”

           For half an hour, he rolled from side to side, as if to alleviate the pains that coursed through his bones and veins.

           The delays left him with 3 hours of sunlight; he had had not prepared for the night lest for the packed food he brought with him. That seemed like a melodious song to his soul.

           As the dusk was gathering, several animals passed the vicinity, wondering what in the world was happening. They all wondered why a human had come to their home. A brave squirrel ventured to unlock the mysterious appearance of the human, however, she was left disappointed by the human who gave her nuts and not the answers. She wondered if all humans are dumb because whenever she went for answers, all she got were nuts.

           The owl on the tree awoke to all the clamor. He sighed, “Not again,” and tried to sleep again.

           Inside the cabin, Avirath set up his shop for the coming days. He hung lanterns, kept candles at every other place, placed flashlights at the key positions, leaving one for himself secured on his belt, and made the bed.

           When the night came, the waxing moon shed only meager light. Avirath’s vision was severely restricted; though he kept peering out as if to spot something alarming. He frequented the window. Besides small creatures of the night, he did not see anything extraordinary.

           Soon, the exertion caught up with him. His eyelids grew heavy and his body weary. Despite all the tale-tell signs of sleep, his mind kept gnawing at consciousness. “Stay awake or else you shall die,” it said, over and over.

           When the dawn broke, his mind had won the battle.

           Fatigue and a sleepless night are a perfect recipe for a disaster.

           He limped out on the porch, experiencing bone-rattling cold, that seeped through three layers of insulation; he shivered from head to toe. Teeth clattering and blood turning into solid, he wrapped himself in the blanket followed by a shot of Old Monk that too first thing in the morning. As the rum snaked its way down the food pipe, a strange warmth, like you have swallowed a piece of burning wood, oozed from his belly. It crept out from the belly and proceeded towards the extremities, leaving a tingling sensation as it zinged past through several organs. Despite the warmth, the fingers on his limbs refused to feel it, stubbornly remaining cold as ice.

           When morning rituals were concluded, Avirath wondered how’d spend the rest of the day. His imagination failed him, so he fished his phone out and watched a movie.

           The morning morphed into the afternoon, rising the mercury level.

           A sparrow on the high bough glanced at the cabin. She had got the news – a stranger was among them; and yet, she could not steal a look. What possible reason could there be? she thought.

           Avirath was deliberating; he could not come to a decision: cooked food or instant noodles. Pranay had told him to safe keep the instant foodstuff as the situation might take an ugly turn and he’d be left with nothing to eat. Use it as emergency food, Pranay had warned him. Avirath shrugged, “Well, he isn’t here, so I guess...” he tore the packet and put water in a pot, set the stove alight, and eagerly waited to devour the noodles.

           Once he slurped the noodles, the void stared at him. What was he to do? Should he coil up in a blanket again, watching some series or movie, how different it would be from his Sundays? Pensively, he stepped out of the cabin and stretched. Looking here and there, he was greeted by unfamiliar sounds and voices.

           The curious animals held Avirath in their eyes. So this is the human who had made the headlines. They gauged the possibilities, arguing among themselves as to why the human had come.

           Avirath froze at the sudden outburst of voices. His blood ran cold. Besides the voices, he felt he was being called; called by something he cannot put a name to it. What was it? Quickly he sped inside and slammed the door. Standing by the window, he gazed out. As he was gazing, his legs trembled. He said to himself, “Man, I shouldn’t have come.”

           That night, he was huddled up in a blanket, reading a novel in peace when an uncanny sound raised the alarm. His ears pricked; at the moment, they were fine-tuned to catch anything. He could hear it, soft as a feather, tiptoeing closer and closer. The breath got stuck in his lungs and he dared not to let go of it. A cold sweat broke throughout his body. He felt engulfed by the raging fire, but he could not move.

           He waited and listened.

           The noise was coming from above. As the source of sound moved, Avirath caught the gist of it. Without any question, they were footsteps.

           Like a bolt out of the blue, the owner of the footsteps landed on the side of the cabin, crashing into firewood Avirath had collected before dusk settled.

           Now, to look or to not look, that was the question.

           Dread clutched his heart and apprehensions stabbed his spirit. But he must know what he was dealing with; so, he stepped ever so lightly that the steps did not disturb the fine particles of dust and he gazed out.

           A magnificent leopard was licking its paws. No sooner did he see it, he ducked and put a palm on his throbbing heart. Dang it, I’m screwed! His mind raced back and forth, but he wanted to have another glance at this astonishing sight.

           Avirath leveled his eyes so that only his head was visible. His eyes remained glued on the beast.

           The creature strolled away after cleaning his paws, leaving Avirath excited and exhausted. All night he lay awake, thinking about the leopard and what would have happened if the creature had decided to pay him an intimate visit.

           The next day, around 10 am, Avirath stepped outside with a small bag hung by his shoulder, a stick long enough to fend off small wild animals, and an aura of authority. Today, he told himself, I shall be cast off my fears and excessive thinking and regain my honor. I’m done letting things control me via fear or for that matter, anything.

           Here, at the threshold of the cabin, he was on the line that separated fearless from fearful. For the first time, the line was crystal clear to him. Beyond lay an unknown world, calling him and waiting for him to explore, precisely what he had dreaded all his life; while behind lay the usual, same thing with permanent repeat.

           And Avirath stepped out.

           The woods called out to him. The calling was unyielding, leaving him no other choice but to man up and venture into. He was smart enough to mark the way back home, registering some unaccustomed elements that would help him get back to the cabin.

           As he was roaming, exploring the woods, he came across a herd of nilgais. At the sight of him, the females shied away, however, the male, seven feet high with menacing antlers and dark black coat, glared at him.

           In that instant, Avirath saw the line appearing out of thin air. Beyond lay foolishness and behind shrewdness. He chuckled, “All right fella, I’m off. Who’d fight you with no claws and teeth.”

           His journey ended on a high note.

           That night, he camped outside; he was cooking a hare he had caught. Of course, luck had favored him for he was no hunter. The toothsome smell attracted a visitor.

           A fox was dilly-dallying in the bushes. He was thinking to sneak in and catch him himself an easy dinner. “Ah, if only that human moves for a minute, I can munch on it before the human ruins it.”

           The owl kept an eye on the fox. “That fox is up to something.” He switched his gaze. “That human must be a fool! Didn’t he see the leopard? I’m pretty sure the human was glancing from that square hole last night.”

A 4-day getaway was extended to seven. Avirath had sent a message with the villager about his pick time; and for the next four days, he explored the thickest parts of the woods.

           When he was leaving, the cabin grumbled. Not because it was going to miss its tenant, but Avirath had made a plate and hung it on the porch. The plate read: Here lie my hearts of heart! and seemingly, the cabin did not desire anyone’s heart.

           Woods are something unearthly; what went in never comes out as it was. The notion held water as Pranay laid his eyes on Avirath. There was an air that felt different. Something had changed, something even Pranay had failed to foresee.

           As Avirath drew nearer, Pranay cried, “So, how are you?”

           “Alive.”

           Pranay grinned. Yes, that was what he had said when he came out too.

           Stuffing his baggage in the car, Avirath opened the door but he was halted in his motion by a howling sound resonating deep within the jungle. He turned to have a look at it. Everything seemed gayer and merrier than he had first seen it. Or perhaps, he had become a part of it.

           Smiling for a brief moment, Avirath howled too as a token of his gratitude and signifying his departure.