There were bodies all around, but still the war did not seem it was going to end
soon. He had killed only two men, what else can be expected of a common farmer
who has picked up the sword to protect his town. The enemies were fierce and on
horseback. Slowly he began to realize that his death was imminent. That’s when he
saw the terrifying figure approaching him; two of his fellow mates were ripped apart
with a single slash. Now he could see the scar, his blood turned into ice and before he
could raise his sword searing pain shot through his heart. After pain came silence, an
everlasting peace which seemed to envelope him. “Where am I?” he asked. “You are
still bounded here.” “Who is it?” he began to shout and woke up with a jolt.
David Fletcher looked at his table clock and it read 3:05 am. He touched his
forehead and felt himself sweating profusely. He knew he was having nightmares again
but surprisingly he could remember every detail in this one, especially the scared face.
After some restless goggling he could see that scar again on his computer screen.
Below the face it read Attila the Hun. It was already five in the morning David slipped
back into sleep with no nightmares.
Later that day, mulling over his dream David read about everything the Internet
could offer him on Attila. He wondered what the dream signified. David Fletcher was
a hardworking law student in the New York Central University and his busy schedule
meant that he tires quickly for bed. After a lite dinner that evening he was back in his
bed.
The crown of thorns was beginning to pierce his skin. There were lash marks all
over his body; raw flesh could be seen in places. But still he seemed to endure the pain
calmly. Finally they reached the hill where was to be crucified. The cross was setup and
he was hoisted onto it. The first nail was driven through his palm and then through the
other then finally near his ankle. He could see women crying at distance, from which he
could recognize his mother, a smiled drew upon his face. Slowly but surely life began to
drain out of him. He could see light now. Is that you father? Yes my son you have done
well. Thank you my father shall I return to you now? No, my son you are still bounded.
When David woke up next morning it did not take him much time to realize that
he dreamt of the crucifixion of Christ and what he dreamt himself as the Christ. He
wondered maybe the Sunday sermons were affecting him. He followed his daily routine
until later in the evening he lied on his bed and thought of what he might face that night.
He had no idea.
Starring at the blank canvas, he had no inspiration to draw. His subject, a young
mistress of a wealthy patron was shuffling uncomfortably. Her beauty was undeniable,
but still it could not inspire him. He had long stopped drawing portraits but a request
from one of his most influential patron could not be put down. He sent her away and
thought of how to finish the painting, it was then he had an idea. He set up a mirror in
front the canvas and started drawing himself in feminine form. He thus spent four years
on it and carried it with him until his death. The painting had a sense of mystic around it
and everyone who saw it were intrigued by it. The woman was none other than ‘Mona
Lisa’.
First Attila, then Jesus and now Da Vinci, David was confused. He could not
think of a reason why he was having such strange dreams. He passed most of the day
wondering. He could still vividly remember all three scenes as if he was there for real.
He spent half the night wondering what his next dream would be before drifting off into
deep slumber.
It was certainly the English countryside, the lush green grass and the mid-
summer weather proved it. A house could be seen with a well-kept orchard at the back.
There under one tree a young man could be seen who looked like he whiled away most
of his summer pondering. But the young man knew what he done that summer could
change the world forever. Still a final block seemed missing; he was searching for it in
his mind under the apple tree. The tree as though it felt that it needed to inspire him
let an apple fall on his head. It worked! Now he understood, now he knew what was
happening, he discovered the truth.
Isaac Newton! No way but still he could fell the bump on his head. He concluded
that he was seeing things and fixed up an appointment with the psychiatrist the next
week. Involuntarily he started to wait eagerly for night to come.
He could smell the rotting flesh around him. He looked up to see around him,
men and women were slowly rotting away to death. Where was he? In hell? No there
are soldiers guarding him. They had Nazi badges on their shoulders. He was in a Nazi
concentration camp. Now he and some other men are being escorted to the firing
range. He knew what his fate would be; he could hear the words load, aim and fire! In a
second his body was riddled with scores of bullets, he dropped dead there.
David did not wake until later that afternoon and when he did wake up he cried
his heart out and he slept again. He woke again that evening starved and cleared out
most of his reserves till he was full. He felt drowsy but did not dare to bat an eyelid.
Finally his body took over and he was soon sleeping like a child.
There were cheers all around; people seemed to have gathered from all walks
of life. There was a huge Dias in the middle of the stage; it looked like a presidential
address. What was he seeing? A black man approaching the Dias as if he was the
president this could not be possible. He looked at him more closely it was him! A little
older version of David himself. He could hear words from the Dias “ If there is anyone
out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still
wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power
of our democracy, tonight is your answer."
When David arouse the next day he had his answer and he knew more than ever
what his ultimate goal would be. He now realized what all his dreams meant, they were
all parts of his avatars and he was in a cycle of rebirths since eternity. He finally found
purpose and meaning of life through the experience of his previous births or rather
deaths. That night David went to bed contentedly as he did not expect any more avatars
visiting him.
He slowly opened his eyes and walked up to the window to let daylight in. He
stood there enjoying the view of flying cars dodging traffic; he turned around to instruct
his robot to get him a coffee…
--- Ravi Teja Palla
P.S. This piece of fiction was written quite a while ago and some of you must have already read it, for those who haven't, hope you enjoyed and please leave you valuable comments in either case.
