What makes a mess of a life? Situation. Health. Finance. People. Thoughts. Life itself? It makes me wonder sometimes, only during adverse times, do we feel the need to know the meaning of life. Here, I keep on discarding any thought about that meaning. Because I am sure that trail is gonna lead me to a person. And that's where my despair lies right now.
It has been at least a couple of weeks. I checked the calendar and was surprised to find that it had been one whole month already since that day. I watched through Ashmit's recovery period. Now that I remember how Risha stayed as if she had nothing else going on in her life when her family fell apart within a few weeks.
From what I heard from Risha and her mother, I could sense a weed possession as Ahim stated. Every human being alive, and was alive comes across weed possession at some point in their life. It is just that everyone gets it like a stain on a white piece of cloth but in this case, his mind and body got dyed in it and he became a monster creature. The worst part of this is, I do not know a way out.
Moreover, I lost track of Prakash. I am unable to locate him. And I know he will find his way to me. That is obvious. It is. Natural. All day I keep on searching for his face among strangers, I wanna find his traces in my daily routine and I do that like a ritual.
"Sita!" Risha called me, probably five times, to get my attention.
"Are you good?", her face expressed apology.
"Am good." I sighed "But I hope you would stop putting on that apologetic face." it was really unfortunate. Still, she had no reason to feel responsible for the damage. She is a good girl. Her mother too seems so lovely. All I could think about was that they did not deserve this.
"I am sure he will come back." her eyes shivered. "You can find your friend then."
I grabbed her hands in a rush. I was so desperate. After millions of attempts to teleport, I could even find wonders of the world but him.
"How are you so sure?" before I knew tears dribbled over my face. Hands cold. She put her arms around me and whispered in my ears, "He can't find a better sandbag than us, Sita. After all, he couldn't bring himself to kill us both."
It made sense in the most cruel way. Now I had more responsibilities. To protect Risha and her mother. To find Prakash.