essay on an unexpected return
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It was seven by the watch as the red sun was fading away in the distant horizon in the village of Itrani. I love the silence here broken occasionally by some lovely bird songs that you will never hear in the city.
It was purely by ‘accident‘ that I discovered this tiny village about ten years ago. I was travelling through this place during one of my sales tours and a tyre of the vehicle got punctured. Without an extra tyre, I could do nothing but look for shelter that night. Two villagers kindly offered me shelter. I spent the night in one of their humble huts and woke up in the morning to fall in love with the village. Since that year, I have made it a point to visit this place at least once every year. There was nothing extraordinary about the evening I am referring to till I found Madho Singh rushing towards me.
Madho was panting heavily and managed to communicate with great excitement that Hari had returned. Hari was an enthusiastic young man who had died about five years ago and the limited population of the village allowed no other Hari to show his face on the screen of my mind’s eye. Hardly believing what I had heard, I just followed him. I reached Bhola Pundit’s house, Bhola being the father of the deceased Hari.
five years ago trying to save a child.
As I checked out the topic of ‘reincarnation’ later, I realised that numerous scientific experts across the world were carrying out research on the phenomenon of children with spontaneous past life memories. Hari’s case was in no way unusual or exceptional. Why, I thought, should people not believe in what they see right before their eyes? Why should I believe that death ends it all despite a growing body of evidence to the contrary?