The Woman With No Soul

It was the strange sound coming from the living room that woke the little boy up. It was strange because it was 4:32 a.m. and no one should be in the living room making noises at 4:32 a.m. Of course, it was also strange because the sound - a cross between grunting and mooing - made it seem like there was a buffalo in the living room and that, the little boy thought, was very, very strange. After waiting for another grunt-moo (just to make sure he wasn't dreaming), the boy climbed out of bed, pulled his sagging Batman pyjamas up higher and opened his bedroom door a crack. He smiled when he saw a water buffalo standing by the couch, not because he loved water buffaloes like he loved dogs, but because it meant he was right and the boy loved being right. The buffalo let out another grunt-moo, as if in protest. It looked thoroughly bored and seemed to just want to go back to where it came from. The man sitting on the water buffalo - a fat man with leathery blue skin, a golden crown and a dhoti made of red silk - whacked the buffalo on its bottom and said, "Patience, Paundraka! Can't you see this woman is crying?" Paundraka let out a little angry huff and went back to looking bored, while the fat man turned to the weeping woman. "Why is mummy crying?" the little boy wondered. But before he could step out of the room to comfort his mother, the big blue man echoed his thoughts and asked her, "Why are your crying, Nandini?" He pinched his nose where his eyes met as he said this, trying very hard to not sound angry or tired. The woman, who was sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, looked up at the blue man with big, red eyes, which became bigger when she heard this question. "Why am I crying? Why am I crying?! I'm crying because you're here to take me away, just like you took away my husband. And then my little boy will be all alone, the poor thing. An orphan at the age of six. How dare you ask me why I'm crying!" "Look Nandini," the blue man said, turning and twisting a rope he held in left hand, "first of all, I didn't come to take your husband, your husband came to me. Of his own will. And second, we've been at this for three hours now and I can't wait any longer. Your boy will be fine. So come. Stand up now. You shouldn't keep the gods waiting." As he saw his mother stand up from the couch, her shoulders slumped in resignation, the boy got scared and wanted to run to her, but couldn't. It was like he was frozen in place. The blue man swirled the lasso deftly in his right hand and threw it at at the boy's mother. When he yanked it out, it came out empty. "What's this?!" the blue man cried. "Where's your soul?" The woman looked up at the man blankly and said , "My soul, Yama? Oh, that's with my little boy. I don't keep mine on me." The man slapped his forehead and said, "Well, I can't take your soul out of the little boy! What if I get the wrong one out? This has been an utter waste of my time." Paundrakha grunt-mooed in agreement. "Come on, Paundrakha," the man said kicking the buffalo's stomach lightly. "We'll just have to come back another day." And then, without so much as a goodbye, the man and the buffalo vanished. Relieved for the moment, the woman wiped away her tears on her nightie's sleeve. She then went to the kitchen to get a drink of water when she noticed her little boy standing by his bedroom door, peeping at her through the shadows. The woman started at the sight of her son and almost dropped the glass of water in her hand. “Now what are you doing out of bed?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she put the glass down, chased the little boy back inside and tucked him in angrily, saying, “Honestly, Bharat. One of these days, you're going to be the death of me.”