Beneath the ancient plum blossom tree, Shree sat, its delicate petals falling around him like a gentle snowstorm. The fragrance was calming, a subtle reminder of the peace he craved in his chotic mind. Yet, his thoughts betrayed the tranquility around him. Memories of his past life flashed—his family, friends, dreams, and the world he'd left behind. Fear and uncertainty gripped him again, threatening to pull him into despair.
A surge of panic welled up, but amidst it, a memory surfaced. He remembered a day from his childhood. Lost in a sprawling garden during a family outing, he had cried helplessly until his mother found him. Kneeling down to comfort him, she had said, "Shree, when you feel scared and alone, don't cry like a baby. Be strong. Sit down, breathe, and meditate. It will help you find peace and strength."
Clinging to her words, Shree steadied his breathing. Closing his eyes, he folded his legs and let the world fade away. Slowly, his mind grew still, and an unfamiliar sensation took over—a mysterious pull, drawing him deeper into a state of meditation.
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Shree felt weightless, as if he were drifting in an infinite sea. When he opened his inner eyes, he found himself floating in a vast, starry cosmos. Galaxies swirled around him, their radiant lights casting shadows over endless space. Time seemed to stretch and fold as he explored this surreal realm. But gradually, the stars began to dim, their brilliance fading into a profound darkness.
In the void, a single white light appeared—a distant, glowing spot that seemed to call out to him. Entranced, Shree moved toward it, his consciousness flowing effortlessly. The light grew brighter until he entered a blank, white expanse.
There, at the center of this space, he saw it: the mysterious disc that had brought him to this world. Yet, it looked different now—ordinary, almost dull. The ancient characters on its surface were faint, as though they had lost their power. The air around it, however, still hummed with an enigmatic energy.
As he stared at the white space, it reminded him of something familiar—his room back home. A wave of longing struck him, and suddenly, as if responding to his thoughts, part of the blank expanse transformed. His room materialized before him, vivid and perfect.
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He gasped. The bed, the desk, even his old laptop—it was all there, just as he remembered. Tentatively, he stepped toward the bed and ran his hand over it. The texture, the warmth—it felt real. Sitting down, he looked around, overwhelmed by the familiarity.
The laptop caught his eye, and he reached for it, curious to see if it worked. As his fingers touched the air before it, a wave of multicolored light rippled out. Startled, he withdrew his hand, but the light coalesced into images. One by one, his memories played before him—trekking with friends, the terror of the bear chase, reading novels under his blanket, quarrels with his sister, his father's stern discipline, and the quiet joy of family meals. Every moment, from the day he was born to his panic beneath the plum blossom tree, unfolded like a vivid tapestry.
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He realized with awe that he was seeing his memories, stored here in this ethereal space. His entire life was laid bare before him, a treasure trove of experiences. As he watched, a thought struck him: How come all my memories are here I don't even remember much .
If all my memories are here, and there will be more in the future, won't they become chaotic? How will I find the ones I need?
The solution came swiftly. "I can organize them," he murmured, excitement rising. "Create compartments for each type—playing with friends, learning from Mom, studying, reading novels… everything in its place!"
Laughing to himself, he began the task. Memories of cooking lessons with his mother brought warmth to his heart; recollections of playful scuffles with friends made him grin; moments of failure and scolding brought tears. With each memory he revisited, he felt a deeper connection to who he was and who he wanted to be.
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As he worked, another realization dawned: This is my golden finger!
A laugh burst from him, a mixture of joy and disbelief. "Of course! This ability to store and organize memories—this is my cheat! My trump card in this strange world!"
Buoyed by this revelation, Shree continued to organize his memories, taking solace in the familiar as he built a foundation for the unknown future. By the time he opened his eyes, the plum blossom tree was still shedding its petals, and the gentle sound of the waterfall nearby grounded him once more.
His panic had faded, replaced by a quiet determination. He understood now: his past was his strength, and his golden finger was a tool to shape his future. With this thought, he smiled, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
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