It rained ceaselessly. The courtyard, barely shielded by a feeble thatched roof that was drenched and full of craters that tiny pools of muddy, sludgy water had collected into was beginning to fill up. The isolated slender drain was doing its best but to expel water faster than the downpour was an insurmountable task. The weather continued to sing its song as water began seeping everywhere making everything soggy.

Suddenly, there was a bight spark of light in the sky followed by an evocative explosion. The rusty iron door lay flat on the earth facing it. Evidently, a jolt of lightening had mercilessly struck it down. A little panic began to spread and the village people began to cry doomsday. Mother Nature had donned a ghastly, unrelenting form. Farm animals were bawling incessantly. Birds let out cries that unmistakably bode evil. Snakes terminated their slumber and rose from the earth for a last dance before their existence was washed away by the unmerciful tempest. Tiny drops of water trickled down chilly spines of a multitude grappling with pandemonium. A unanimous visual of the end stared at the earth. The darkness was all-enveloping, all-encompassing and endless.

A pair of lively eyes stared right back into the infinite cosmos. Those piercing eyes had a sparkle that could be seen from galaxies away. The eyebrows were a dense mass of wet hair. Between the eyes was a perfectly shaped nose and a youthful moustache. There was also some two day old patchy stubble around the lips. The lips were inviting and delicate and as pink as a lotus blossoming at dawn. He put down the flute, cracked his knuckles and headed towards the hills. The hills were just outside the village so he had a lot of walking to do. He walked calmly among the panic stricken villagers running helter-skelter and crying for help. They didn’t have the time to spare a thought for the handsome youth who was walking towards the hills, down the slope with his golden silk tunic sticking to his body causing him to chill through his bones.

Around half way to the hills, he passed by the last house in the village where his friend Sudama and his teacher, Sudama’s father lived. He peeped through a window and saw Sudama curled up in a fetal positioned under the bed. He merely smiled and proceeded towards the hills. The winds were harsher outside the village and the water hit him in the face but he kept walking, unperturbed by the obvious discomfort. When he reached the hills, he looked around and chose the biggest one on the left and with a slight grunt, lifted it off the ground. Then, with a slight thrust he raised it above his shoulders and began walking back. He walked back into the village and people gathered around him under the shade of the hill. At last, he stood in a field at the centre of the village. Sudama was standing beside him eating wild berries and drying his hair.

                                                                                                                    

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