YamRaaj’s Search for a Soul

You would think, he would have had more success by now. After all Mumbai was overpopulated and someone somewhere should be dying. And all this incessant rain should have contributed to the cause. But no, for some reason He – the Great YamRaaj – had been roaming the ever-bustling city of Mumbai for two hours without any success. On top of it this rain was bugging the hell out of him. He was wet and cold and every time the lighting struck, it would be attracted to his mace and race down to earth through it giving him and his ride a nasty jolt. It was not funny anymore. He whipped his mobile out and fired a WhatsApp to Indra, ‘Kindly turn down the intensity. Paundraka and I have been zapped enough times, a few more zaps and we will develop permanent twitches.’

After putting the phone away, He looked around to take stock of the situation.

The first thing I need to do is get off this road that is flooded with dirty filthy water.

‘Hah, finally you decide to get out of this water after I have been standing in it for two hours. What if I get leptospirosis.’ accused Paundraka.

Yamraaj looked at him in disbelief and said, ‘You, well it is an animal’s urine that spreads it, so I highly doubt you will get it.’

‘Hey I don’t live here, mind you I am a foreigner for all practical purposes.’ retorted Paundraka.

YamRaaj ignored his statement but urged him to move forward.

Finally, they moved to higher ground and Paundraka decided to sit down forcing YamRaaj to get off his back and sit next to him.

This dark and stormy night instead of helping me achieve my target is making it difficult today. How can I go to Yamlok empty handed? I have to have atleast one soul. Thus, sat the YamRaaj musing.

His musing was disturbed when a drunkard plopped himself next to Him. He took a big gulp from the bottle and then offered it to YamRaaj. At this point the drunkard gave YamRaaj his full attention and started laughing; hysterically.

‘You are participating in a fancy-dress competition?’ he slurred.

YamRaaj glared at him.

‘No, not fancy-dress,’ he said shaking his head and still grinning inanely.

‘Ok…., then maybe you are with a natak-company. And they kicked you out…’, he started cackling again.

By now YamRaaj was beyond pissed. He took out his phone again and took a photo of the buffoon and send it to Chandragupt with a caption, ‘Is he ready to die’.  

‘No.’ came the reply.

‘Well isn’t stupidity a deadly sin?’

‘Not yet.’

‘It should be. Moreover, I haven’t collected a single soul till now.’ said YamRaaj petulantly. ‘If he doesn’t leave now, I will commit my first crime.’

‘You can’t my Lord.’

But then His petulance turned to devilish mirth and he said, ‘I can’t, but Paundraka can!’

And a happy YamRaaj returned to Yamlok.

***

Glossary

YamRaaj – Yam Devta, the God of death.
Indra – God of clouds and water and the king of Indralok.
Paundraka – Yamraaj’s ride (the buffalo)
Yamlok – Abode of Yamraaj
Natak-company – Drama company
Chandragupt – Yamraaj’s helper who keeps all the records

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Shweta Singh

Shweta Singh is a home maker and mother of on-the-verge-of-being-teenager twins. She is passionate about books and food – both interests inherited from her father – and loves to write and travel at every opportunity. A closet writer, who after encouragement from friends and family has embarked on the journey of self-discovery.
Shweta Singh

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