A few minutes before entering the novel’s world………

The peaceful and serene metro station is nowhere to be seen. All that remains are scraps of the train, with 45 injured and one dead. Among the debris lies a charred body, twitching continuously. Only the face, partially intact, shows expressions of anger, sadness, and helplessness. The sky roars as lightning and thunder dance, mocking the twitching body.

The more the sky roared, the more the body twitched, as if fighting until its last breath. The screen fades to black, and Rudra’s consciousness begins to drift. He finds himself in a blank, empty void—an all-black space with no discernible features or boundaries. The atmosphere is eerie and otherworldly, with no sense of time or space.

Rudra feels disoriented and tries to make sense of his surroundings. As he floats in the darkness, fragments of his memories start to surface.

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A 19 old boy walked slowly into the big garden-like compound of the house. Tall coconut and mango trees stood proudly, their leaves making shadows on the ground. Beautiful flowers of all colours filled the garden, as if nature had painted it with her best brush. A narrow path went through this peaceful place, leading to the grand house.

The boy, Rudra, looked different from the beauty around him. His old t-shirt was torn, and his pants, rolled up to look like shorts, were covered in dirt. He walked with heavy steps, as if each one was a struggle.

His eyes, tired and empty, glanced around but didn’t really see anything. The quiet, pretty garden did not reach his heart as he moved towards the house, feeling the weight of his tough life on his shoulders.

Just as he was about to open the door, it swung open. His fifteen-year-old cousin stood there, looking at him with disgust. “Don’t come near me. You bring bad luck,” the cousin spat.

Rudra didn’t react. His face stayed blank, as if he was used to hearing such things. Before the boy could say anything else, Rudra’s aunt appeared, a middle-aged woman with a strict face. She looked at her son, who glared back as if she had just taken away his toy.

“Let him inside,” she said, her voice sharp, showing she didn’t really care. Rudra stepped in, and the inside of the house was like another world—rich and shiny. The marble floors sparkled, and golden decorations made the place feel like a palace.

His relatives sat on fancy sofas, wearing bright, expensive clothes, laughing and talking loudly. Servants moved around, bringing snacks and drinks. The joy in their voices was so different from the quiet, emotionless look on Rudra’s face.

One of his uncles noticed him and spoke without looking up, “Rudra, did you finish the work?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued “Good. Now go to the shop near the Shivalayam temple and get the money.”

Before Rudra could leave, the uncle added, “And clean yourself first. You smell terrible. Can’t you see everyone is uncomfortable?” The uncle’s voice was hard. Rudra just nodded, his face still showing no feeling, and walked to the animal shed to wash.

As Rudra stepped out of the house and made his way to the shed, a rare sense of relief washed over him. He thought to himself, “Today no one scolded me today. Everything went peacefully.” And fastened his steps thinking “If I can just go and get the money, today will be done.”

At the shed, he splashed the cold water from a trough on his face and arms, scrubbing away the dirt. The rough water and simple shed were a big change from the fancy house behind him, but Rudra didn’t mind. After washing, he changed into a set of clothes that were not much better, just clean. He walked out to do what he was told.

As he left, he heard the workers near the shed talking. “They treat him like a servant since his parents died when he was nine,” one said. “They live in comfort while he works like this.”

One of them added, “What do you expect from them? And Rudra is a naïve and innocent guy who doesn’t talk much.”

Another guy says “Maybe it’s not them look at this guy who just completed his 10th class at the age of 19? Look at our master’s youngest son—he’s already studying intermediate (PUC) at the age of 15.”

Rudra heard but kept walking thinking “Am I really like what they say? Am I that naïve and stupid?” But he doesn’t understand anything. He looked back once at the big, rich house, sighed, and then turned away. He made his way to the shop near the Shivalayam to collect the money.

Yes, that’s correct—Rudra doesn’t understand much. He was subjected to emotional neglect and exploitation, forced to do all the household chores and laborious tasks. Rudra’s relatives made all decisions for him, suppressing his sense of self-worth and autonomy.

What do you expect from a guy who’s been neglected and stopped expressing from the age of nine? As the tears dried when his parents died, so did his emotions. Over time, he had lost all sense of emotion. Happiness, sadness, enjoyment, and boredom were alien concepts to him.

The road was busy, decorated with colourful lights and maybe because it’s night it looks even beautiful. People walked in groups, talking and laughing as they headed to and from the temple. Music and announcements played from loudspeakers. Rudra collected the money as told, but as he was about to leave, something pulled him back toward the temple.

The time was 8 in the night, and amidst the hustle and bustle, a long-forgotten memory surfaced. He remembered a moment he had buried deep, maybe because he wanted to forget, or perhaps because the pain was too much to bear.

He saw himself as a 9-year-old boy, laughing and holding his mother’s hand in his left arm and his father’s hand in his right. They walked into the temple cheerfully, the memory so vivid yet distant. It was a time when happiness wasn’t a foreign concept, a fleeting glimpse of a past he had long suppressed.

He felt a strange need to go inside the temple, so he did. Sitting in a corner, he listened to a speaker giving a pravachanam (spiritual talk). “If you don’t feel anger, if you don’t feel pain, if you don’t feel joy, it means God is leading you on a path to find bliss to reach him,” the speaker said.

Rudra’s ears perked up at these words. He looked at the deity in the temple, as if asking, “Is it true? Is it true that you are welcoming me?” For the first time in years, he felt like someone was welcoming him, someone had paved a way for him after his parents.

He felt a warmth in his chest, and unknowingly, a small curve formed on his lips. He started to listen to the pravachanam (spiritual talk) more intently, feeling a connection he hadn’t felt in a long time

The speaker’s voice continued, “All the world is Maya. If everything is Maya, then what happiness, sadness, anger, and emotions you learned in this Maya are also an illusion. So what should one do?”

Laughed the speaker and continued “What will you do other than what Parameshvar taught us? Find yourself in this Maya. Find your happiness, not others’. Find your sadness. Find your empathy, not others’. Even if it’s nonsense, find your own nonsense.”

Rudra felt a strange energy inside him. It was as if he had finally heard the words his heart had been yearning for all these years. His eyes shined as he looked at the speaker and he bowed deeply to the speaker and to Bhagwaan Shiva in the temple.

As he stood up, he felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. He thought, Maybe this is my chance to find myself. I do have emotions and this is my own happiness. For the first time, he smiled heartily a little more.

As he stepped out, he felt a warmth in his hands, as if someone were holding them. It was as though his mother and father were there, guiding him, holding his hands, and walking him out of the temple to explore this newly found sense of life, this sensation, and his happiness.

Far away, the Speaker looked in his direction and smiled, as if he had seen him. Rudra stepped into the road, letting his feet lead him wherever they wanted. He got on a bus without knowing where it would take him.

As the bus started moving, for the first time in a long while, he felt a strange excitement and freedom, a sense that maybe, just maybe, he was on his way to finding his own place in the world.