Stories of Jivavarta: Full Moon

Full moon above, I was sitting in a desolate cremation site deep in the valley, waiting for midnight. A bunch of dogs were howling at a distance, occasionally joined by shrieks of owls from the banyan trees above. I was cold, and a little scared. I am not afraid of living souls, but ghosts scare me — they say that at full moon, ghosts can possess the living.

I was carrying Sarvabhu’s talisman in my hand. I was sure that it would protect me. Sarvabhu is the supreme god of all living, dead, and in-betweeners. I clutched hard at the talisman as I reached for the three pots I had brought with me. They were still warm. Sarvabhu would be pleased.

You must be wondering what I was doing here, all alone in the dark, if I am so afraid of ghosts.

This all started late one night almost two months back, when Rakha came looking for me. This was surprising, for he had never even talked to me earlier. I work as an executioner for the city and, like everybody else, Rakha considered me an outcast and never publicly interacted with me. Not that I minded, for being an outcast is liberating — you can be yourself and don’t have to follow any social norms.

“I don’t have any coins on me,” I told him. Rakha was a habitual drunkard, and always in need of money.

“I don’t need your filthy coins, you scum,” Rakha grunted. “In fact, I have some work for you which can make you some extra money.”

I decided to listen to him. Not that I needed any extra money, or maybe I did.

He took me to a quiet corner and, in guarded whispers, told me that a large shipment of precious stones was going to be delivered to the jewelry shop where he worked, and he was planning to steal it.

He had already recruited Akhu, his close friend. Akhu was an excellent lockpicker, but that was not enough.

In a theft, one can’t carry away everything that one can lay hands on — one has to pick only the most precious pieces. Rakha and Akhu realized that neither of them had any knowledge of precious stones whatsoever. So Rakha had contacted Saraka, another lowlife. In his better days, Saraka had worked as a jeweller’s apprentice, and had an excellent eye for precious stones.

Finally, Rakha knew that he, Akhu and Saraka were likely to be prime suspects of the theft. He needed someone to pick up the stolen stones and hide them somewhere till the suspicion wears off. That is where I came in.

But why me? Why did these people trust me so much?

In fact, they had never even met me earlier. I was nothing but a stranger to them, and that was good because even if they got arrested, there was no link connecting me to them.

Now, although they did not know me, they were aware of my reputation as a staunch devotee of Sarvabhu. Everyone knows that once I take oath in the name of Sarvabhu, I never break it — no matter what. In truth, I was afraid of Sarvabhu’s wrath. After all, it requires several human sacrifices every year to keep Sarvabhu calm.

They offered me a few silver coins for my part, and made me take Sarvabhu’s oath that I will hide the stones at a secret spot, guard them with my life, and will take them out only when all four of us are present.

Everything happened as planned. Akhu picked the locks of the shop, Saraka collected most precious stones, and as they fled, Rakha handed the stones to me. I quietly came to this desolate spot in the dark of the night, and buried the stones.

The next day, the authorities arrested Rakha. Soon Akhu and Saraka were arrested as well — but even after a lot of effort, authorities could not find the stolen stones. With nothing but suspicion against the three, they had to let them go.

Released from prison, the three came straight to me and asked for the stones. They wanted me to lead them to the spot right away. I refused, I told them that I can fulfill my oath only on the night of a full moon.

They did not like this. Saraka threatened me with my life. “You insignificant vermin! Don’t think of cheating us. If we kill you here and now, nobody will notice.”

The threat could have worked on any other, but for someone who works as an executioner, such threats are ineffective. They promised to come back on full moon, but I realized that they are going to kill me anyway once they get their stones.

Today is a full moon, and all four of us are finally together at the spot where the stones lie buried. As I said, Sarvabhu is the god of all living, dead, and in-betweeners. He wouldn’t care if I am the only one present physically and the other three as smouldering ashes in their pots. In fact, Sarvabhu must be happy with me for the three sacrifices I offered him on the auspicious occasion of a full moon.

© 2020 Sheetal Mehata