ONCE UPON A TIME IN SATTASAR
The air is warm and damp. The late night breeze brushes off the worst of sweat, as I am tumbling clumsily around in the desert sand trying to find my way out of the field. I step over green plants, or I at least imagine they are so as it is dark and I cannot really find its colour under the moonlight. My body feels heavy and I am struggling to keep up with my two friends in my company. My long shirt and pants are clutching to my sweating body poisoned with fever, and although the air is cooler now I am burning up inside. I am feeling delirious and stumbling around in these deserted fields adds a touch of psychedelic flair to my current state of mind. We continue into a field of corn, the crops reaching almost at the height of my shoulders. I can only hear the sound of the branches as the three of us brush them aside and try to make out a path that will lead us to wherever we are going. I am not sure. All I can think of is to lie down and rest to cure my burning headache. The moonlight is stunning, and I keep looking up in astonishment while regaining some energy during my constant stops. Looking around me I can vaguely spot a farm far away, but there are no lights and the silhouettes are too dark for me to make out what really is there. As my feet try to find their way in the sinking ground, my golden sandals fill up with the soft desert sand for every step that I make. I hear voices, and realize we are no longer only three people there in the midst of the darkness. As the voices are speaking in a language that is unknown to me, I stand there almost paralyzed feeling the fever, the warmth in my body and the silence around me. A woman approaches me. I cannot see her face in the dark, but her voice and body language guides me to lie down on a simple bed. I follow her instructions without hesitation. A tall man appears as I am lying down and makes sure that I am comfortable. I close my eyes and let my body sink into the simple but yet comfortable bed. The woman sits next to me now, touching my forehead, rubbing it. She then takes my arm, and checks my pulse. I'm out of energy and manage only to do my best imitation of a smile, in appreciation for my new caretaker that doesn't even know me. She's sitting on my right side, and I can see her sari covering her face. Her deep voice reveals her mature age, and although she is a stranger to me, she immediately comforts me with her presence. At first I am worried, as I have no control of my body and imagine in my head a worst-case scenario that is of course a touch melodramatic. But I am far away from a city, a town, or anywhere. Now there is only
silence, and I can only let my fears and feelings go and put my full trust in the people that are around me. I know my two friends are there, but they seem to let me be as they perhaps notice that I am in good hands. With my eyes closed, I am hearing whispers next to me, that of a child. I find it sweet how they are being so soft and gentle to me, and how the child is curious to whom I am but yet whispers in order to not disturb or wake me. Another voice is there, and I feel a cold cloth put to my forehead. I fall into a deep relaxed state, awake but almost asleep. Floating in-between this state of mind, I hear the voices come and go and the sweet whispers of the child. I hear my friend laughing nearby, more children’s voices and realize we've come to a family. During the night, the woman insists I drink some chai. I know I must follow her orders, as I know she means well and knows what she's doing. Or rather, I trust her. I sit up in the bed. The chai is hot, and I drink it carefully and slowly letting the sweet taste fill my mouth. A silver coloured plate with raw onions are placed next to me, and I am told by my friend that now is sitting with me to eat it as it is good for the fever. The taste is strong and not my favoured one, but I eat some and feel lighter knowing that this will make me feel better. Or so I hope. I lie down again and look up towards the sky and the millions of stars. My other friend has come now and is sitting next to me. He starts telling a story and I close my eyes litening to his voice in the silent desert we are in. I drift into a light sleep, and loose my notion about the time of night or when the morning will come. I later wake up to the sound of music blasting out of something that sounds like an old and worn down cassette player. It is still dark. People are moving around and I hear laugter, and then the sound of sprinkling water. The electricity has come at a random hour and the field I assume must be watered. Then it calms down again, the music turns off and I can hear them chatting and laughing again. It feels as if we are camping with the whole family, which we in fact are, laying there under the moonlight and the stars. My head has become lighter, and I smile for myself there in the dark, soon to be taken over by the early morning light.
silence, and I can only let my fears and feelings go and put my full trust in the people that are around me. I know my two friends are there, but they seem to let me be as they perhaps notice that I am in good hands. With my eyes closed, I am hearing whispers next to me, that of a child. I find it sweet how they are being so soft and gentle to me, and how the child is curious to whom I am but yet whispers in order to not disturb or wake me. Another voice is there, and I feel a cold cloth put to my forehead. I fall into a deep relaxed state, awake but almost asleep. Floating in-between this state of mind, I hear the voices come and go and the sweet whispers of the child. I hear my friend laughing nearby, more children’s voices and realize we've come to a family. During the night, the woman insists I drink some chai. I know I must follow her orders, as I know she means well and knows what she's doing. Or rather, I trust her. I sit up in the bed. The chai is hot, and I drink it carefully and slowly letting the sweet taste fill my mouth. A silver coloured plate with raw onions are placed next to me, and I am told by my friend that now is sitting with me to eat it as it is good for the fever. The taste is strong and not my favoured one, but I eat some and feel lighter knowing that this will make me feel better. Or so I hope. I lie down again and look up towards the sky and the millions of stars. My other friend has come now and is sitting next to me. He starts telling a story and I close my eyes litening to his voice in the silent desert we are in. I drift into a light sleep, and loose my notion about the time of night or when the morning will come. I later wake up to the sound of music blasting out of something that sounds like an old and worn down cassette player. It is still dark. People are moving around and I hear laugter, and then the sound of sprinkling water. The electricity has come at a random hour and the field I assume must be watered. Then it calms down again, the music turns off and I can hear them chatting and laughing again. It feels as if we are camping with the whole family, which we in fact are, laying there under the moonlight and the stars. My head has become lighter, and I smile for myself there in the dark, soon to be taken over by the early morning light.
