LIFE AND LIES #18 | Under the Stars

I lay on the floor which is still a little warm in spite of having sprinkled water on the floor in the evening. My eyes survey the sky, riddled with a thousand stars. And a crescent moon, under whose light, I can see the silhouette of the distant hill. I can make out the outline of the temple, situated on top of it. During night-time, whenever there’s a power cut, people rush to take a look at the hill. If there’s no light shining from the temple, then it’s alright, nothing can be done; otherwise, the problem is local – either a faulty circuit board or a disconnected wire from the electric pole – and can be fixed. I see no light coming from the temple. The power must have gone out again.

A pleasant breeze brings me the smell of the cooking going on downstairs. It’s summertime and the heat becomes unbearable in the absence of electricity. As soon as dinner is prepared, everyone else joins me on the roof.

Ma is serving when a sudden gust of wind blows out the lantern.

“Oh, I forgot the matchbox,” Ma is the first one to speak.

“Go, get it,” Papa orders me.

I ask my sister to accompany me. Instead, she rushes to hide her head under the pillows.

“I will go only if she comes along with me,” I declare, infuriated by her reaction. Ma nudges her, but she does not budge. I squint at my father. All this fuss is going to make him lose his temper soon. I sense the usual, ‘you're the elder one, you should be the responsible one’, coming my way. To avoid all that, I rise up, anger surging through me. I grab the torch and leave.

It’s dark downstairs. My anger transforms into something else. Guided by the beam of light emanating from the torch, I tread down the stairs, slowly and lightly. What my parents misunderstand as sibling rivalry is actually my fear of darkness. But I don’t need to tell my parents that. My fear is my own and mine to deal with.

I enter the kitchen. There are shadows lurking in every corner. I feel a prickle in the nape of my neck. Out of reflex, I swat at it. It’s just a drop of sweat. Finding the matchbox, I grab it and head out. The harder I try against it, clearer the figures get in my mind, a disembodied head with eyes bulging and skin falling out or something staring from the window. My ears strain for any sound out of the usual, a cat’s meow or creaking of windows or a chilling whisper. Somehow, I make it to the bottom of the stairs. Immediately, I burst into a dash.

I calm my breathing ahead of appearing before my parents. They don’t suspect a thing. Thereafter, all of us have dinner under the shared light of the moon and the lantern. As usual, Papa and I share a plate. My sister, as per her demand, gets her own tiny plate.   

Post dinner, Papa asks my sister to recite some tables. I am off the leash, having shown Papa my completed homework in the evening itself. I can sense her uneasiness, watching her face contort. She sucks at Maths. Making eye contact with her, I stick my tongue out. She can’t react, sitting so close to Papa. Though, soon after, she starts to feign sleep. Papa gives up as Ma comes to her rescue. Somehow, avoiding my parent’s eyes, she manages to throw her smug smile at me, before going to sleep.

The night turns darker. My eyes are turned to the sky again. I try to locate the constellations I learned at school. Within no time, I spot my favourite ones: Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. The last star at the tail end of Ursa Minor is the Pole Star. It lies directly over the North Pole; hence, the name. I look for Orion next. It’s a little difficult to find.

“Go to sleep,” My father’s gruff voice breaks the silence. “You have to wake up early for school.”

I close my eyes, pretending to sleep, waiting for him to snore. The next thing I know is that he’s shaking me.  To my utter disappointment, I wake up to find that it is early morning and the stars are long gone.