SLOW DOWN
"Come...,"
"Come...,"
The voice didn’t travel through the atmosphere—it reverberated inside my chest. Before me stood a figure wrapped in spotless, flowing apparel
These repeated words echoed again
His face shone like the morning sun. He neither moved from where he stood nor stopped looking intently while I got close.
Confused, I could not fathom what to do.
"I mean, where is this place?"
"Where am I?" I whispered to the stillness.
I did not just teleport to this place. I recalled turning down an offer to study aeronautics years ago, so this certainly wasn't space.
"How would I know?"
"Was I dreaming?"
Even without deciding, my legs chose the forward route. They decided to get closer. Maybe--Just maybe--I might recognise this being.
"I've not seen him before, I am sure. Why does he offer his hands then?"
Curiosity drove every ounce of fear in me. I mean, someone insisted Zodiac signs influence us so, let's just agree that the Scorpio in me manifested itself.
"Maybe, he wants a conversation. He could be lost and looking for directions".
(A sarcastic laughter)
"For someone in a strange place to give directions?"
I mean, I am sure I've not been here. This place is a lot more beautiful than any place I have been to.
This is a dream, I am sure. A dream I did not want to wake up from until I saw how it ended. This could be transfiguration again. Who knows?
With this resolution, I kept on moving, gradually approaching the other side.
"What was there to lose anyway?" I encouraged myself to keep up
Left!
Right!
I threw my legs. Approaching steadily as though a military trainee, I couldn't help but, feast my eyes on everything around.
Oh my God!
The scenery was mesmerising. I marvelled at the magnificent beauty, that graced me. It screamed tranquility. The atmosphere breathed strange waves of silence. It was spotless and spoke purity in every sense.
"Why was I here alone with this figure though?"
"FIGURE" (I gave him a title already).
He has not said more than "COME", to me.
His hands never dropped. His gaze never left mine either. It was as though, those eyes would catapult me over to his side quickly since, I delayed coming quickly. I wanted to feed my eyes more. To take it all in.
At last!
An unseen thin line stood between us as I proceeded to take the being's hand.
Both hands moved steadily towards each other, as though controlled by an unseen force.
It was painful. A jolt of pure white pain shot through me.
Alas! I cried out. "LET ME GO PLEASE!"
"She's moving her hand."
"Her eyes are slowly opening."
Finally, my blurry vision started getting clearer.
These words came from the crowd that surrounded my almost lifeless body. You could actually hear the relief and joy from their voices. So sweet of them to help an accident victims.
"O! So much pain." I tried to get up from the ground. I mean, I was still trying to decipher why I became the centre of attraction.
It is sure looking like I passed out.
I needed answers and I got one. It started to make sense of how I got into this mess.
"Yes!"
The cyclist.
Hmmm... He stood there with a countenance of fear, guilt and a little relief mixed like a refined fruit salad. Just the right gauge of them all.
Everything came rushing back--from the moment I boarded his motorcycle, till the present.
"What an idiot."
The Okada driver stood a few feet away. His face, a fruit salad of guilt, terror, and sudden relief.
It all rushed back—the roar of his motorcycle engine, the terrifying speed, and my hands gripping his shirt as I screamed over the wind begging him to SLOW DOWN.
"God will protect us," he had shouted back, twisting the throttle.
To him, I was a scared kitten and I felt his impatience.
Anyway, he got his protection. I got a ticket to the edge of the void.
I got rushed to the hospital where I was observed and checked. A measure to be sure I was totally out of danger.
Lying on the hospital bed hours later, staring at the sterile ceiling tiles, the anger at the driver began to fade into something far stranger. What haunted me wasn't the crash, but that silent threshold.
We live under the grand illusion that we are the authors of our own momentum. We wear helmets, buy insurance, make five-year plans, avoid eating a lot of things, maintain a healthy lifestyle and bargain with speed. Yet, my entire existence was handed over to a stranger’s careless wrist on a random afternoon. Danger isn't a shadow that creeps up slowly; it is a sudden rupture in the everyday.
Before the crash, I viewed mortality as a distant, linear destination—a point far down the road after a long life. In fact, I already planned my graduation as the valedictorian, fantasized about my dream job, my dream man, planned my wedding day in my head. I look forward to raising kids and being called a grandmother. I look forward to living, enjoying, contributing to society, and getting my name inscribed in the sands of time. I look forward to changing dreams, sitting on the philanthropic realm one. I look forward to touring the world, more adventures... I could go on. But, touching that figure's hand rewrote the map.
Death isn't at the end of the road; it walks right alongside us, separated only by an unseen, razor-thin line.
Thankfully, I am alive to tell the story in this world.
Was I actually headed somewhere?
Was it really death or was I just hallucinating?
Hopefully, we all learn from this. Most times, slow and steady wins the race. SLOW DOWN