She plays with pain as if it's thread, Weaving sorrow where love once lived.
A smile, A spell — she blurs the line, When grief's a game, who knows the shame?
~~~~~
"Yes, my child," Ahmaya's mother replies softly.
They are back in their home in Delhi. She is sitting beside Ahmaya, feeding her with her hands, just like she used to. The warmth, the scent, the softness of her mother—all of it collapses the space between memory and reality.
Ahmaya breaks down, tears spilling freely as she wraps her arms tightly around her.
"What happened, baby?" her mother asks gently.
Ahmaya doesn't answer. She only sobs harder, clinging to her mother like a child afraid to wake up.
Just then, her father enters the room.
"You two want to go for a movie date?" he says playfully.
Ahmaya turns, eyes wide with disbelief. She leaps up and throws her arms around him.
"What is going on?" he asks, confused but smiling.
She wipes her tears quickly. "Let's go…..the three of us. A movie date."
He smiles, but the moment is already beginning to vanish.
Everything around her starts to blur. The living room, the voices, even the sunlight, all of it begins to dissolve like smoke, her parents too.
"What is happening?" Ahmaya shouts, panic rising in her voice. "What is this?"
Her joy collapses. She crumbles into sobs again.
When she blinks, she is no longer home. She is in a dark, damp cave, cold stone under her palms, the scent of ash and earth filling her lungs.
Then, a voice echoes through the cave.
"So you are not Pushpa."
A woman in a dark green saree sits cross-legged in front of her, eyes closed.
"Who is Pushpa?" Ahmaya asks, her voice trembling.
The woman opens her eyes slowly, rises, and walks toward her. She grabs Ahmaya's wrist.
"The body you're in. This is Pushpa's body."
Ahmaya's breath catches. She stares in silence.
"I was only examining you," the woman adds.
"You are someone else entirely."
"Examining?" Ahmaya repeats, anxious.
"Yes," the woman says, calmly. "There's too much grief in your heart. I was curious."
"Where are my parents?" Ahmaya asks, voice cracking.
The woman lets out a dry chuckle.
"Come on. You're not even human, didn't you realize it was an illusion? or are you pretending?"
"An illusion?" Ahmaya's voice trembles with disbelief. "What the hell are you saying?"
"You really don't know," the woman mutters, rolling her eyes.
The woman kneels beside her, grabbing her face firmly.
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
"I don't know," Ahmaya murmurs. "I am not here by choice."
That woman throws her head on a stone, and a thin line of blood appears.
"I don't want to hurt you," the woman snaps, "just tell me the truth."
"I am telling the truth!" Ahmaya screams, voice hoarse with pain.
The woman snaps her fingers.
Suddenly, Ahmaya is back home—but her mother is walking away from her. Ahmaya tries to follow, but her mother keeps slipping further out of reach. Then everything fades again.
"Stop it!" Ahmaya yells. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," the woman replies coolly. "Just answer my question. Why are you here?"
"Can you just let me meet her again?" Ahmaya pleads, eyes full of longing.
The woman smirks and snaps again.
Now Ahmaya sees her mother being stabbed by a man. Blood pools on the ground. Her mother screams. Ahmaya can't move. She can only watch, paralyzed, crying.
Then everything vanishes. She returns to the cave, weeping.
"Stop this! Please!" she screams.
"Tell me everything," the woman says calmly. "And I will stop."
Ahmaya, trembling, spits at her. "NO"
The woman slaps her across the face. Then, with eerie calm, she picks up a doll, twists its right arm—and suddenly, unbearable pain shoots through Ahmaya's body, right arm. Not her skin or her bones, but her soul itself screams in agony.
The woman lets go.
"I will ask one last time."
Ahmaya gasps. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
So Ahmaya tells her—how she came here, everything but not the truth of her being an Aokma.
The woman narrows her eyes. "Say something that makes me believe you."
"I didn't even know this body belonged to someone named Pushpa!"
"What's your connection to Ayani?" the woman asks.
"I met her here. She said she could help me return home."
"Do you know who she really is?"
"Yes. I do."
"Do you want to go back?" she asks, stepping closer. "I have the power to send you."
Ahmaya raises her head, wary.
"Really? Then give me a reason to believe you."
She grins, a dark glint in her eyes.
"As soon as I brought you here and saw you, I knew—you're not the one we perceive. Inside this human body… there's a different soul. I examined your grief. I played with it like a toy, and you didn't even realise."
"Please… send me back," Ahmaya begs, her voice cracking.