Sarv Pratham

(1) Homo-Cosmologica

Hello fellow sapiens! I'm Param Purush Pathitikas. This is one of my debut works so enjoy it and do tell me your experience.
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*This story is set in a fictional world and the story does not try to harm the beliefs of any group.*
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After what could be called his death, Jiva found himself amidst the cosmos in the hands of an astral blue God chanting 'Sarv Pratham', and only moments after that, Jiva was once again, alive, somehow.

Jiva Samnuvasta was a chubby eleven-year old. Today was supposed to be his last exam of 5th grade. He was ready for school, with almond oil greasing his charcoal black hair and a pendant for prosperity. His face had a hidden smile all over it. The exam was the least of his concerns. The boy jumped and ran to the bust stop, as he usually did, thinking about aliens in the first half and lunch in the second.

Jiva, like almost all South Yogirans was a Halmoi - a theist, the ones who pray. Halmois are the only theists left on the planet. At the bus stop, Jiva found his friend Arjun deep in prayer. Arjun was equipped with far more items, from gems bulging in his pocket, pendants layering on his neck and pious threads wrapped on his wrists to benefit his good luck. Jiva had a slight smirk on his face, for even God cannot save the man who dug his own grave.

They both settle in the bus. Jiva snatches the window seat. The children arrange themselves as the bus departs for a journey, perhaps their last.

" Oi Jiva, do you remember all the distinctions of the Triangle? " Arjun asked, sweat dripping from his head to toe. The  journey from their home to the school is of an hour, which becomes crucial for a student in his 11th hour.

Sitting with pride and overconfidence, Jiva adjusted his posture and replied, " By angle or by side? ". Jiva's eyes, half closed and his lifted brows conveyed that he knew that Arjun knew nothing of such distinctions.

" What? Angle and sides is different." Arjun has exactly done what Jiva has foresighted. Turns out Arjun is planning to ask many such questions, preparing himself while inadvertently revising for Jiva.

The bus has now moved over the flyover. This flyover is iconic for a reason - the huge landfill near it. The rotting egg smells and pungent sulphur burn the nose hairs. Each and every kid on the bus has landmarked this place. The sleeping, the talking, the philosophizing - all kinds of kids are hypnotised by the smell. Some bore it, others tried to breath faster and some even attempted to hold their breadth for the entirety of the flyover- like Jiva. With his breadth stuck in his lungs, reddened cheeks and ballooned face, Jiva was spotting the cars and their companies on the other lane. A yellow Mazda, red Yungai, silver Giora and now the famous SUV brand- a pitch-black Qwerty. Jiva's eyes got bigger as the car seemed to disbalance. Kids like him often expect to see an accident for the purpose of curiosity. But this curiosity soon turned into fear.

His pupils dilated, his heart skipped a beat and adrenaline surged through his veins. Reacting instinctively, he jumped slightly out of his seat as the car swerved and stood directly in the path of the bus. The driver, in a panic, tried to maneuver, but it was too late—the bus veered out of control and crashed into the left boundary of the flyover.

And then, the bus fell.

Bodies upon bodies, a ghastly heap of shattered clothes and broken flesh, lay strewn across the ground. Dark, clotted blood mingled with the dust, staining the earth a macabre hue. The air was thick with black smoke enveloping the scene of devastation. Amidst the carnage, amidst the agony, lay Jiva. His right arm was butchered, his clothes hung in tatters and a pole ripped through his abdomen. His body, yellow and blue and black on the damaged ends, was crying silently for help. One of his eyes was fiery red and the other seeked the broken boundaries of the flyover. His mouth was leaking blood and froth. His neck was punctured and his ribs, collapsed. He was barely breathing yet was still alive somehow. He rose his left hand, which he could, and noticed as he pointed his skin-shredded fingers in the sky, bluish-yellow hairs sprouting out of his hands. The hairs were writhing and twisting like serpents on his hands, jumping in and out of his skin while moving on the surface. They pulsed with an otherworldly light, illuminating his exposed flesh in an eerie glow.

But it didn't bother him. He was injured all along and pain was on such a state, that Jiva could barely think straight. Psychosis had already been triggered. Unreal beings and blackening of the clear sky was evident to him. He felt like he was in an ocean, an ocean of the hair like things exactly like the ones previously on his hands. All of them, gliding over him like waves and trying to climb his body. Jiva was stolid, for some reason happy and in peace, as he saw the giant blue creature amidst infinite skies of the space. With stars and galaxies covering the God-like being all around. For the few moments of Jiva's senses, he was deafened but now voices have started to enter his ears. Or do they, because it felt rather like a telepathic message to him. A voice message on an infinite loop, a loop of chanting the name of 'Sarv Pratham'. Jiva slowly but steadily felt his arms and legs in this jiggly chaos and he started to but levitate out towards this astronomical lifeform.

Flashes here and there. Sparks of the dead calling the name of Jiva. Grabbing him by his leg as Jiva quickly tries to grab a hold of the sudden shift in his periphery. 'Why did I have to die?' , ' Tell me Jiva! ', 'Just because of you', ' You will never die.' ' You will live forever, cursed and will curse everything-everything' , 'God shall descend upon this very Earth and bring to all human, heaven with Him.' .....

24th May, 2016

Two months have been since the incident. The once obese has now slimmed to the bone. His hair have grown outrageously. He has long been out of the ICU, and his body has continuously recovered, so much so, that even the scars were healed. The eyes of the young boy slowly open as the memories of the event rush straight in his cornea. His slow revival turns into a fast one. He hinges fast and sits erect, astonished by his surroundings. There was noone in the room except him. A nurse wandering by gets a glimpse of the risen bedridden and takes no time to inform everybody of the boy with infamous boy of unreal healing. The doctor and his parents rush to the site immediately.

His father is a soldier in the South Yogiran Air Force. He has a black moustache and black hair. He is currently in his duty outfit of a blue overall, a dress which is wore from neck to heel all together. His mother also comes rushing. She is holding a lot of holy pendants and rocks, and is not going to wait even a second before she starts her ritual practices to get her son rid of bad omen.

The doctors open the door. The boy perfectly still, recovered from all of his injuries and is sitting at a right angle while the nurses get rid of his excretory devices. The boy, devoid of emotion, sees his mother, holding herself from breaking down and his father standing erect, red in the eyes trying to stop his tears from falling. The male doctor, in his white coat, proceeds with a smile towards Jiva." Hello Jiva, my name is Dr. Anthony Quiers. Speak to me." 

Jiva sees him with wide open eyes. He recalls everything but still cannot pull it out of his tongue. All he could speak, that he speaks, is " Sarv Pratham. "

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Thankyou for reading the first chapter of 'Sarv Pratham'. I hope you enjoyed it. Please tell me in the comments. If you did enjoy, then press that star button to stay updated on my series. I will upload daily from today.

And till next time, see you later. ;-)