Decades Apart

Aastha had just come back from college when she saw her uncle enter the house. He rarely visited the house. It must have been a year since she saw him. In the 18 years of her life, not once did she see him smile. He barely talked, and whenever he came to the house, he would sit in the corner. He would listen to everyone talk, or maybe he wouldn't even listen to them at all. She was confused about why he was there.

"I know, it sounds quite rude, but he rarely visits us and barely talks with anyone," She thought.

Suddenly, she realized it was her birthday.

"Holly, Molly," she hit her forehead with her hand, "I forgot when I saw him,"

Today, she was turning 19, but the thing was, did he come here for her birthday? Surely no. He had never come on her birthday before. Instead, he would send her gifts with a note. Shaking her head, she went inside. He was in the kitchen with her mom. Her mom liked to celebrate her birthday, even though she was not quite into it. Her uncle was wearing a black hoodie. Both hoodies and dreads covered his face. When he heard her coming, he looked at her. She noticed a little bit of a tattoo on his neck, which she thought was wings. He was wearing medium-sized black round ear studs.

"Last time I saw him, was there any tattoo on his neck?" She thought and realized she had never come near him to see that tattoo.

Even though he rarely visited the house, she would greet him from afar. He would give a slight nod, and then she would leave him alone. She would hear about her mom visiting him but she never asked to go with her.

Aastha pressed her hands together and greeted him in Namaskar.

"Namaskar, mama. I hope you are doing well."

(Mama means Maternal uncle in Nepali.)

"Happy birthday," He said, trying his best to smile but failing instantly.

His voice was frightening yet pleasant. For her, it felt like the first time she heard his voice because, truth be told, she didn't remember the last time she heard him speak. He looked miserable but handsome at the same time.

She thanked him, smiling, and he nodded.

Her eyes went to the back of his left hand, where there was a white lion tattoo. She remembered that tattoo from when she was small, and she loved it. It was her favorite tattoo. She stared at it for some time and then left.

The same question ran through her mind: "Why is he like this? I mean, all other relatives are so cool, you know, but him."

Once she even asked her mom if he had any problems or if he was suffering from something, but her mom would say,

"Nothing is wrong with him. Stop thinking like that about him."

Aastha was now standing in the living room. Her relatives were laughing. Her mother and her mother walked in together. Everything was ready for preparation. Her mother placed the cake on the table, ready to be cut. She noticed that everyone was excited, but there was no excitement in her uncle's face. He looked horrible, like he had been living with depression. It was clear there was no fun in his life.

The celebration started. Aastha extinguished the burning candle using her hand because, in Hindu Nepali culture, they didn't blow out candles by mouth. It was believed that fire was a god. When she was a little girl, her grandmother, who was killed by a witch, told her, once that while blowing out the candles, their spit might get into the fire.

"It's a sin if we spit at the fire," she had told her.

It was pointless for her to hear that they shouldn't blow out the candles.

Aastha cut the cake. After that, everyone came and put Axeyta on her forehead and gave her gifts and blessings. Her attention was all on her uncle. He was sitting in the corner, watching everyone.

( Axeyta: a dab of red vermilion mixed with yoghurt or sugar and rice)

At last, he got up and walked towards Aastha. He stood in front of her. He slowly took Axeyta from the plate and put it on her forehead. Once he was done, he kept both of his hands on her head. Aastha guessed he was giving her his blessing. She closed her eyes, bowing her head. He took the money from Hoddie's pocket and placed it in her hands. Aastha bowed her head and said Namaste, joining her hands. Prayas got on his knees and bowed down until his forehead touched both of her feet. It was their culture to bow down to their young girls' feet. Young girls were believed to be goddesses in Nepali culture.

Seeing the gesture warmed her heart. Aastha felt quite happy. She always wanted to know about him but couldn't. He was a mystery to her. She always wanted to ask him, why he was like this. Once, she asked her mom if they could help him but she replied,

"He is fine. It's just that we can't help him."

Hearing her mom say that broke her heart.

"Maybe she did her best but still couldn't help mama so she gave up?" she thought.

Aastha watched him walk out of the door. Did he come just to give a blessing and leave? She was very curious, which made her get up and follow him. She made sure nobody noticed her. When she was about to go outside, she heard her mom call him. She hid behind the door and watched her mom follow him.

"Prayas," Her mom called him again.

He stopped on his track. She slowly watched them, peeking her head out of the door, and tried to hear them.

"Thanks for coming," she said, and he turned to look at her.

Prayas had a cigarette in his mouth. He blew out the smoke and then nodded. He was about to leave when she again started to speak.

"Eat something and then leave."

He shook his head.

"How long are you going to punish yourself? Why can't you just move on and leave the past behind?" She questioned him when he didn't bother to speak.

Prayas stared at the house for a while and then looked at her. He took a puff of a cigarette and blew smoke.

"What's done is done. You can't change it," Aastha's mother murmured.

He turned back and started to walk away, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground.

"Stop punishing yourself. Stop it. It hurts to see you like this," she yelled.

She came back inside the house. Aastha hid behind the door until her mother went inside and then decided to follow him. Prayas went inside the park and stood behind the tree. She then saw him slowly throw his hoodie cap back and sit on the bench.

At first, she was confused about why he was there because he was alone and without a cigarette. He never sat without a cigarette in his hand. She realized he was watching someone. A lady must be in her early 50s, but she looked young. The lady was dressed in a long white maxi dress. Her hair was long and black.

Aastha's vampire instinct made her know the lady's age. If it were an average human, they would think she was in her late 30s. The lady was sitting on the grass, looking at the sky. It seemed like she was in deep thought. Many questions came to Aastha's mind.

"Who was she? Does he know her?" she questioned.

Prayas sat there watching her without blinking once. When she left, He followed her, pulling his hoodie cap back. That woman went inside a house, and he stood outside, watching the house.

"What was he doing?"

After like an hour, she saw that the woman had turned the lights off. He then climbed the window and went inside. Aastha watched his back in confusion.

"Was he trying to rob the house?"

Aastha waited there for more than an hour, waiting for her mama to come out of the house. It was already 11 p.m. She was about to leave when she heard a scream. It was a woman's scream. She stared at the window in fear.

"Was he there to harm her?" She almost shouted.

Aastha was quite scared of what her mama might do to her. He was a vampire, and there could be many reasons why he was inside the house, mainly his thirst for blood. Aastha decided to climb the window and saw him beside her, his hands on her. The lady slowly calmed down. It seemed like she had a nightmare. Aastha was shocked to see the images in front of her.

Aastha slowly came down and, for the last time, looked at the window.

"Who was she? And why was he there? He was there to calm her down. He was there to help her get rid of her nightmares. She was an old lady. If I am aware, my grandparents died a long time ago in a war." So many questions ran through her mind.

The only person who could answer was her mom. So, hurriedly, she went towards her home.

Everyone was still dancing and eating when she entered the house. Aastha went straight to her mom.

"Aama, we need to talk."

(Aama = mother)

Her mother looked at her daughter with confusion but nodded instantly. Aastha walked out. Her followed. Pratik looked at both of them, his daughter and wife, and followed them outside.

"What is it?" her mother asked, wanting to go back inside.

"Aama, do we have any old-age relatives?"

It was the first question she asked her mother.

"No," she replied without thinking twice.

Aastha looked at her dad, and he shook his head.

"You said, grandparents died long ago?" she asked again, and her mother nodded.

"Then, who was she?"

Both of her parents looked at each other and then at their daughter. They couldn't understand who she was referring to.

"Who?" They asked in unison.

Aastha sighed and told them everything she saw.

While his niece was asking questions about him, Prayas was with the person he loved dearly. Every single day, he came to be beside her to protect her from nightmares. He knew she hated him, but he loved her with everything he had. One of the reasons he was alive was love, and the same love was the reason he was half-dead. It's weird how, for him, everything started and ended with this word, love.