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    The Road to My Salvation Is Long & Other Works
    The Road to My Salvation Is Long & Other Works
    The Road to My Salvation Is Long & Other Works
    Ebook134 pages1 hour

    The Road to My Salvation Is Long & Other Works

    By Madhurya Nagaraj Iyer

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    About this ebook

    Every person who has ever lived has faced them all. Can life give you purpose even after you've lived a long time? Can you ever turn your back on love? Can you ever go home again? The Road to My Salvation is Long & Other Works ponders these questions and others in a collection of thoughtful and honest prose and poetry.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOne Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
    Release dateMar 5, 2020
    ISBN9789390040070
    The Road to My Salvation Is Long & Other Works
    Author

    Madhurya Nagaraj Iyer

    "Madhurya has worn many hats... Advertising copywriter, English Trainer, Mom and always through it all.... Writer. She started writing at the age of eight and reading is one of the chief passions of her life. She especially loves books in the fantasy genre and the classics. She considers a myriad of writers from J K Rowling to Agatha Christie, from Jane Austen to L M Montgomery her inspirations. She is right now focused on writing, teaching and raising her beautiful daughter with her life partner."

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      Book preview

      The Road to My Salvation Is Long & Other Works - Madhurya Nagaraj Iyer

      The road to my

      salvation is long

      I awoke to the blinding glare of the sun in my eyes. The moment I sat up, it all came back. Mine was not the kind of mind which suppressed bad memories. I knew exactly what I had done and why. I thought back to that day a few months back. The day that defined my existence and taught me who I am.

      I was absolutely tired with my father’s tyranny and my mother’s defeated complaisance. I had to get away for a while. Escape into some kind of tranquility. I picked up my voluminous skirts and ran out of a side entrance. The one place where I could always find serenity was in the woods. I remembered that some of the soldiers had been out on a chase last night. Under the shade of an enormous old tree I found a mess of footprints. Definitely the soldiers! They all seemed to have run about after each other. I gazed around and saw that one set seemed to lead away from the mess, deeper into the woods. I was a lonely, curious eighteen-year old girl. I followed them.

      walked into a beautiful glade and stopped in astonishment. At the other side, hanging by his ankle, from a poachers’ trap was a young man. At that moment the fates intervened as they sometimes do. As I paused to consider, I realized that I was not frightened. I did not run away, I did not scream, I did not fetch help. I felt like a child who has discovered a fairy among the flowers. Something unusual had happened yet I had no trouble believing in it and I was convinced of the part I had to play. I walked forward with a laugh, whipped out my knife, and cut him loose. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees with a light thump and then instantly straightened up, a challenging light in his eyes. He was tall, with curly black hair and brown eyes. He was dressed in the clothes of a simple peasant.

      You look like a noble-woman. He said, after having observed me in silence for a few moments.

      "I am the noble-woman, daughter of the king." I told him, lifting my chin.

      It never escaped my mind that I was heir to the throne of this kingdom as my brother was born three years after me.

      After that first encounter, I found myself wandering back to that glade in the woods every chance I got. I knew him to be an outlaw, hunted by my father’s men, but that never seemed to concern me. I enjoyed hearing that he liked me, that he thought me beautiful.

      About a month after our first meeting, the king, in front of the full court, formally declared me his heir-apparent. I knew that from now on, every movement I made would be watched very carefully. My life had calmly floated me to a fork in the stream. It seemed to me that I had a choice to make. I chose what I loved and wanted most in life. I went to my outlaw in the woods. I told him that we must part forever or I would lose my throne. He accused me of being greedy and over-ambitious. I bent my head, not in shame but in silent acquiescence.

      A few days later, the king strode into my sitting room. He had never done that before. I stood up in a hurry. My father gave me an appraising look.

      I know that you have wanted my throne ever since you were eight years old. No no... he silenced my protest. "Its time you earned it. There is an outlaw hiding in the neck of woods around the castle. He is raising the villagers living around there to rebellion. I want you to assemble a force and go out and catch him. If you cannot do it… I shall send your brother. He is a man after all and perhaps more suited to take my place." I could feel my eyes burning in my face. I was filled with so many emotions. I would not shed a tear now. When one is destined to rule, one must make these sacrifices.I silently swept past my father and out of the room. I cast aside my gown of frothy pink and budding roses and got into my armour. I was a fully qualified warrior in the king’s army, having trained for the last ten years. This preparation for battle was nothing new to me. I put on a dark, hooded cloak and sprang onto my horse. I was taking no force with me. When I reached our glade, he came out as usual to meet me, a smile on his face. I knew I had to do this quickly or I would never be able to do it. I took a deep breath and drew my sword. He had a curious expression on his face. As I slit his throat he did not even attempt to defend himself. Not that a rebellious villager-turned-outlaw would have been any match for one of the best warriors in the kingdom.

      As the light went out of his eyes, something died inside me. I would never be the same carefree girl again. I had not fought an equal and won. I had killed and triumphed. This was no victory, and yet perhaps in some way it made me more fit to rule. I rode out of those woods, never to return.

      * * * * * *

      It has been ten years, and I pick up my pen to write a conclusion to this particular story. There have been many stories in my life, but this the one that has given me the harshest and truest reflection of myself.

      I have been ruling my kingdom for several years now. I am considered fairly good, but I have a tight leash over the land. I hand out harsh punishments. It is only when an outlaw is caught in the woods around the castle, is my judgment lenient. He shall not be hanged or flogged. He shall only be exiled from the kingdom. This is my way of making it up to him. I don’t regret any choice I have made, and yet, all my life, I shall always be paying him back.

      Old and New

      Sheela left office early and got onto her two-wheeler. Her mother had called her and told her things were getting worse. She braked and accelerated automatically, her thoughts dwelling on the past.

      She stepped into the crowded hospital room, saying a quiet ‘Hi’ to various cousins, uncles and aunts. She couldn’t recognize the emaciated figure lying in the bed. Was this great-uncle Ram? The uncle who used to take all the kids to the circus, the uncle who bought them candy even when their mothers said no, the uncle who quietly paid school and college fees when the parents couldn’t. The uncle who had always stood like a protective titan over all their lives.

      Sheela peeped out into the corridor. It was already lined with people and more and more were coming in. It seemed like uncle Ram had made a difference to a great many lives. Two of her uncles were talking to the doctor at one end of the corridor. Sheela went up to them.

      …lived a long life. He is past 85. His heart just can’t take it anymore. If there was something we could have done, we would have done it. The doctor was saying.

      Sheela walked past them and into a deserted stairwell to have a good cry. There would be no more visits to uncle Ram’s home for a cup of tea and a talk. Uncle Ram had been a great raconteur, with stories for all age groups. He would wildly embellish to the kids with a twinkle in his eye and talk about adventures with wild beasts and ghosts and underworld dons.

      He had in fact lived a colorful life as an award-winning photographer, traveling to the jungles of the Amazon, the pyramids of Egypt, the beaches of Australia and the churches of Spain. He was always generous, talkative and humorous and by the age of 60, he had come home to Bangalore to settle down in his house and spend time with his family. He had never married and now his home and his heart were open to his siblings, their children and grand-children. He had decorated his house beautifully but never minded if the children ran amuck and occasionally broke a lamp or a vase.

      He had always been more of a friend to Sheela than a great uncle. She dropped in after work at least once a week for a cup of tea

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