Not so long ago in a non-descript village in countryside people did talked about this Legend, nicknamed DD. The old called him Debar Donst but the youths preferred to call him Dare Devil.
The children couldn't understand what it was, nor were the stories of this DD narrated to them so often. This village, like many other of kinds, had a cemetery not very far from the village limits. A cemetery not like other cemeteries. This had an eerie silence surrounding it, a cast of ill omens. This cemetery lived in the shadows of the dead.
For ages grandparents told their grandchildren, mothers frightened their children if the kids didn't have their glass of milk or the meal finished. Going out in the night was considered darest of the dares. Bedtime stories were told before the sun settled in its nest in west. Doors were closed before moon lightened up. People asleep before the stars came out. This was the village with a burial ground, which used to become the playground of the dead. So was said and told to others. Nobody knew how is started. Nobody ever questioned. Nobody ever dared to venture out and find the truth. Like the universal truth the dictum of gray haired people was accepted and honored. But as with any other place, as with any other story, there was one called DD.
Though he wasn't too brave and daringthough he wasn't too smart to be an outright maverick, he had many dares under his belt. Having traveled a lot to many distant lands across the seven oceans he didn't subscribe to the ghost stories his parents told him and their parents told to them and their parents told to their parents.
At a very young age he had traveled to far off lands of long eyed people. It was told that the country, called China, was full of dragons fire spitting beasts that could fly. Strange was the land and strange were its people. DD had also been to someplace where everywhere there was ice. As far as one could see it was ice. He called it the land of the Queen. Such strange were the ways and equally strange was DD's life. When DD came back from his tour he revolted against the dictates of the village council and the fear of the cemetery. He said he would go to the cemetery and come back alive to prove that everybody was wrong all along. They were captivated by the imaginations of their ancestors and riveted by their own imaginations and uncanny conclusions.
That day he waited till it was dark. A lunar eclipse. Even the stars didn't dare to have a peek at what was being done. An old man already on the verge of death was asked to keep a watch on DD that he did what he said he would do. He entered the cemetery roamed around. Prayed at his mother's grave, talked something to the grave of his neighbor and then started to return. The ghosts as if were woken up by his prayers and his talking were waiting to pounce on him and shred him to tatters. The moment he got up from the grave he felt his trousers being pulled from behind. Somebody was holding the end and pulling it. GHOSTS! The kingdom of DEAD was indeed alive. He saw a flash of light cross the sky. His eyes reddened, he started sweating profusely, breathing very hard. DD felt strong pain near his left shoulder. Someone was pressing hard on his chest. Someone was trying to gorge out his thumping heart. He had a cardiac arrest and he died on the spot. The old man saw everything. He was in tears, shaking as he witnessed this gory act. He had seen DD pray and talk to so many graves. He has seen him walking and now he was seeing him dead. The ghosts had feasted on him. It was more than what he could endure. The he had been a witness to all, the kid growing into a man until now was, witness to all his mischiefs and now witness to his beastly drama of death.
He had also seen his trousers get entangled in that thorny bush. In the morning the villagers took his body and buried it in the same place he had fallen dead.
And so was born the legend of DD, Dare Devil for some and Daring Dude for others who had challenged the creatures of the other world and laid down his life.Even now going out in the night is considered darest of the dares. Bedtime stories are told before the sun settles in its nest in west. Doors are closed before moon lightens up. People go to sleep before the stars come out.
END.
Monday, November 08, 2004
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5 comments:
TT,
You too surrendered to "cheap publicity" ?
Btw this does not make sense to people like me who dont know the real story(if there is any).
TT, WTF was that all about???
i read the initial paras and felt that u had been inspired by Shyamalan's "The Village"...but i was disappointed with the way u abrubtly ended the story...anyway TT is expected to do such things...no surprises :)
maha-morongee!
Summary : TT Aya Bhago ...
Well i would like to ask you ... how many deadheads croaked when u were born ... ??
At least try to be original if at all ???
And dont make yourself widly available for god's sake ..... world is already filled with enough misery.
Your Sincere Critic .
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