‘I wish I could…’

Thinking about it Vishwa had fallen asleep.

Vishwa was woken up later in the night. His father cooked the food. His mind was still in sleep. But he was eating. When he had eaten up. He finally came awake.

‘How did you get this many injuries.’ his father asked when he realised Vishwa was finally clearheaded.

Vishwa decided to tell a lie. His expression was unnatural as he said, ‘It was an accident.’

‘Don’t try to fool me,’ his father had seen through his lies.

‘When I was your age, I too had these kind of ACCIDENTS,’ his father said without looking at Vishwa.

‘You too,’ Vishwa was shocked. His father hadn’t shared this side of him.

‘Don’t try to gauge more, and try to get away from those accidents,’ his father said as he looked at him intensely.

‘Yes father,’ said Vishwa softly. He was ashamed of his lie, and more that it was seen through.

‘Try to study at least, I am not against you making friends and all that, but I don’t want you to remain illiterate. Remember son, only someone with proper knowledge can take proper decisions.’ his father said changing the topic. Vishwa didn’t wanted to go through it again. But this time his father had said something different.

Remembering his friend June and the doctor. He didn’t felt that his father was wrong. June might have been working for the underworld. But he was extremely intelligent. He was able to make quick decisions. And the doctor too, she had healed him.

‘Yes father,’ he took his father’s teachings to heart.

‘I know you don’t like to go to school. But try to learn from wherever you can. Sometimes real life could give you lessons your school can't understand,’ Vishwa’s father said. He saw his son pondering over something.

‘As you know, it isn’t easy at my age, when I was your……………’ Vishwa’s father saw Vishwa thinking hard. So he decided to impart some more of that knowledge. When he was interrupted by Vishwa.

‘Father teach me the way of machines,’ Vishwa said.

Watching his serious expression, his father was perplexed.

‘What, all of the sudden.’ his father said, looking at him.

‘No father, I am serious teach me how you do things. ‘ said Vishwa. His father saw his eyes twinkling. How many times had he seen the same expression. Very few. Infact it might have been the first time in a long long while.

Vishwa’s father sighed.

‘Alright, I will teach you. But you have to take it seriously. If I saw you fooling around, I would stop teaching you that instant. Do you understand.’ Vishwa’s father said.

‘I do, I understand.’ Vishwa said. He accepted his father’s conditions.

‘Alright then, I will teach you tomorrow.’ his father said, taking away the plates still on the floor.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Vishwa said ok and went back to sleep.

From the next day forward Vishwa’s day routine had become hectic. At morning he would do some home chores, and would go to fetch vegetable and rations from the market. After coming home, he would finally join his father.

As he taught him various thing about the machines. He told him about various of the tools, on his first day. It was good, at least Vishwa was able to understand what his father was trying to teach him. But after teaching he had given him assignment. He had to learn about 5 of tools by the next day.

That made Vishwa cry in silent tears.

He truly reevaluated his decision of learning from his father. But he continued. The timing for studying and working were not exactly same for the few hours,sometimes it would be in the afternoon or on evenings. Depending on whether there was a customer or not.

After that Vishwa would go and roam through different places. Trying to gather what he could from the people gossiping around. He would report those to the Castos and spend rest of his free time walking here and there. Free with his own thoughts.

There was another thing Vishwa liked to do, but he hadn’t told anyone about it. It was to go to the library.

He would try to be inconspicuous as possible as he approached the library. The library was a cornerstone of the village. It was located somewhere around the ground and on the route to the school and the administrative offices.

As far as he knew from the village people, the library had existed for many generations. The old people would tell how they would gather around the library when they were young. The roof was open for the children at that time when the library belonged to some rich guy. But the person had died a few years back and it was now maintained by the school and the person’s family. Who would come to see the library from time to time.

Vishwa was walking straight. So that if someone familiar to him comes they wouldn’t recognise he was advancing toward the library. And when he was finally in front of the library. He would scan left and right. He saw no one. So he ran straight into the library.

Though his injuries hadn’t healed. It was more embarrassing for him to be seen in the library than the pain. So without a care, he had reached the reception.

An old man was sitting there. He had been watching the boy’s action. He should have been scared when the boy had been acting suspicious. But he didn’t care as the boy was standing, while panting for breath. But he had become used to this boy’s action.

The old man sitting in the reception had a round spectacle supported by his nose. Half his face was covered in white beard. The beard had grown long and wild. His body was still healthy. He was looking at the boy.

Vishwa quickly rummaged through his pockets. He found a card and quickly gave it to the old man at the front.

The old man looked at Vishwa, his nose covered in bandages and his body wincing in pain from time to time. But he didn’t ask him anything about it.

The old man looked at the card and gave it back to him. It was a library membership card. And it was still valid.

Vishwa was constantly looking outside and at the old man, while he had handed over his card. As if someone would just come and point at him, saying he recognizes Vishwa and would gather surrounding people to come and look at Vishwa. Who would be devastated as he looked at those people laughing at him.

Nobody of his age goes to the library. That was what made Vishwa embarrassed going into the library. He had heard from his schoolmates when he still was attending his school, that only adult and old people visited the library. As such he had kept this a secret from all others.

He didn’t want to be made fun of. Taking the card back he was gone between the book shelves.

‘What should I study now’ Vishwa pondered. Now that he was inside, he was relaxed.

There were many books library. But all of those looked old, only the academic books and some new books which had been brought into the library looked new. The magazines and newspaper too would be constantly be renewed.

But Vishwa didn’t had any interest in reading academic books, so he looked around and found another book of his favorite author. ‘Joseph Graham’.

It was another of the book in the series. ‘What was lost?’

The book was ‘The continent’s search for history - mythology and legends.’

He was fascinated by the cover of the book. Though the book was old and had worn out from the edges. The paper wasn't exactly bright, but he looked at the cover. It was a cryptic image. The body was surrounded by fire and such.

He took a sit. The table and chair were furnished new. The constant smell of wood and oil permeated his senses. It felt good.

Vishwa was quickly engaged in the book. It told about various places, much of it was legend. From time to time VIshwa would find the author constantly putting his own theories. Making it sound like the places and the people in the story existed at one time. That was something which fascinated Vishwa. On one page he found out about a terror which haunted the people in the past. The people of that would die suddenly or they would behave very differently from others. There were many terrors like this, described in the book. And it also talked about people, people with superpowers who tried to rescue those people.

He hadn’t realized but it was quickly evening. There were others too sitting across him, studying their own books. But they were very few. And they were mostly people who were either very old, or were someone who were interested in research.

Vishwa realized it had been late. He had chanced upon random stories from the book that fascinated him. Vishwa wasn’t proficient in his studies. And whatever he could understand was in the form of broken sentences and words. So he still couldn’t perfectly make out what was written on the book. But there were many illustrations, hand made illustrations on the book that kept him engaged. Vishwa didn’t knew how the author knew so much, and how he was able to make such vivid illustrations. But it wasn’t for him to know. It was time to go. Vishwa was going to close the book, when he saw another illustration. This illustration looked extremely familiar to him, so he opened it.

‘This!’ Vishwa was shocked to the core. His eyes couldn’t contain the immensity of what he was feeling right now.

The figure looked similar to the being that he had seen in his nightmares, but it was different somehow. The being in the book looked more regal and majestic. ‘Nakhur’ was written beneath the ink drawn figure. The figure in the book looked human. The label said - The king of mystic city of ‘Azamdar’