Reality ***

Pathy sat up with a start. He sat dazed in the darkened bedroom, drenched in sweat. It had been a nightmare ! A terrifying one. But he was alright now. His house was intact. Here he was in the comfort of his bed. His wife lay beside him, breathing softly. She looked like an angel in her sleep. And his baby stirred and stretched in her cot, just beside their bed. Everything was fine. He gently touched his wife’s cheeks. She moved and sighed. Pathy’s eyes moistened. What a terrible nightmare that had been. His house had burnt down in front of his eyes. And as he stood helpless and impotent, Amy and the baby had perished in a horrible fiery death.

Pathy recalled the last part of the nasty dream. He had gone crazy, lashing out at everyone. He cursed the Gods. He smashed the idols in shrines near his home, slashing anyone who tried to stop him. And then he was restrained. And locked up in the home for the insane.

Pathy smiled to himself as he recalled how angry he had been at God. He had wanted to destroy the Gods who had destroyed his home and family !

******
The rays of sunshine shone through the slats of the high window, falling on Pathy’s face. He opened his eyes slowly. He turned. His hands were secured to the metal bedframe with nylon rope chain. He looked around in a daze. The place had a strong odour of disinfectant. The rows of metal framed beds were neatly arranged, with many of them occupied by inmates in white coveralls. Then it dawned on Pathy. He was still in the asylum.

******

Pathy lay in deep contemplation. He knew now that the terrible thing that had happened was real. But only as real as he wanted it to be. Only as real as the timeless drama of maya, in which his own life was but a fleeting moment.