Why are you beating me?’ I screamed. But they didn’t stop. I was yelling with pain and anger, but in front of those built muscular men, I didn’t stand a chance, there was no way I could defeat them. Also, I didn’t know why they were beating me. ‘Please stop! I beg you, don’t beat me …don’t … I don’t want to die…please!! ‘, I cried. They were not going to stop anytime soon. The beatings continued for half an hour. I lost my consciousness and my shirt was full of blood, completely red. They left me stranded in that deserted place.
After some time the native people rescued me, I was in bed for a week at their place. They were angels in disguise. When I got my conscious back, I couldn’t remember shit. My memory was damaged, just like my body. The only thing I could possibly remember was how ruthlessly I was beaten. My memory was tampered, I didn’t know how, but it was. Maybe it was the attack, or maybe something I don’t remember. But strangely my finger had been scraped out with some kind of blunt knife, it wasn’t completely cut, it was just detached, but someone tried to scrape it out. It was hurting really bad. As I tried to fix my finger again, my head started to ache. ‘Find that chemical, fix your finger… find ‘Neem’…‘these words were echoing in my mind, it was a Deja Vu. Yes, my memory had been tampered, but from the condition of my finger I could figure out that it wasn’t cut during the attack. It was from the past and I had managed to fixed it with some chemicals, I don’t remember what chemicals. And this freaked me out, about how could I manage without a finger. What about my college? My job? What? How? As I was already weak, due to the anxiety I fainted. The natives helped me once again. After staying with them for 4 days, when I was fit to leave, to find out the ‘Neem’ and get back my memory, I went out to set this tough journey.
Everything that I said now is running like flashbacks in mind in an infinite loop, I am trying to penetrate deeper into my memory, but I am not able to.
‘Ugggghhh… why is this happening to me?’
‘Mix Neem leaves’ juice with your blood and apply that to your scraped finger, then mask your finger with that neem leaves, your blood has magic, it will cure your finger’, an unknown face said that to me in my memory.
I think, bit by bit my memory is coming back. To follow his instruction, I have to find the neem tree, which was difficult in that deserted place. I searched for days, but I couldn’t find one. I was having lunch near some village bazaar when I saw a guy selling neem leaves.
‘Yes, that is it. I’m an idiot, I just need neem leaves, not the entire neem tree.. yes… I found it.. yes’
I bought the neem leaves and made juice out of it, and precisely followed that unknown person’s instructions echoing in my head, and it turned out to be true.
‘What??? It worked! Does my blood really has some magic in it?’, I thought, ‘Nonetheless, my finger is back’.
….To Be Continued