Dejected, Amar sat there, disillusioned and demotivated. This was it. There was no other possible scope for his seemingly long, laborious life. He must end it. Family-less, jobless there was no aim nor ambition to keep him alive. Sitting on the cold, rusty park bench he held his head in his hands, absentmindedly staring at the moist glistening grass in the surprisingly sunny, September afternoon.
With a soft but definitely discernible, almost magical plop, a little silvery blue spec appeared on the grass right underneath his head, directly in his gaze. As his eyes focussed on the object, he extended his hand instinctively, inquisitively. He held it up delicately against the sun and realised what it was. A silver charm bead with a blue glass lining the outer rim.
Amar stood up and looked around. There was no one, not even a single soul on this side of the park. All he could see in some distance were the giant rides in Legoland with very faint squeals of families having one last day of Summer holiday fun. He looked up towards the sky to spot a handful of birds, possibly seagulls, doing the rounds. Maybe it was something a seagull had been attracted to but then dropped it when it couldn't make a meal of it.
He sat down again and fidgeted around with the little charm still in his fingers, his heart delving back into the darkness that the little excitement of the charm was attempting to pull him out of. Still absentmindedly, his brain tried to place where he had seen such charms earlier. Maybe one of the Pandora shops he had visited while still with his wife. The glistening blue glass had a very pleasing effect almost calming, with subtle hints of air bubbles and some impurities in it. What great creative genius to leave such specks in jewellery - he thought. Almost inspired by life, as if to say fashion can't be without imperfections just like life never is. Maybe they even introduced some such specks to….
Amar suddenly sat straight up, his mind and heart jolted abruptly out of all thoughts of self- pity and suicide. He realised where he had seen such charms. It was in the little catalogue that the funeral director had handed out when he had visited them after his dad's funeral to settle the invoice.
This was not an off the shelf charm. It was a bespoke charm with a few grains of ashes baked into the glass lining for people to keep an iota of their departed loved ones close to them.
Rekindled by this realisation, Amar held the charm bead close to his face as he squinted to observe the hole in the middle of the charm. He could see there was a faint inscription on the inner seam of the charm. It was too tiny to read by itself so he brought out his phone and clicked a picture. He zoomed on the picture and read out the words. “Tu chinta na kar” it said in cursive font.
Being born and brought up in Britain, his Hindi was barely passable but he understood this phrase well enough. "Don't you worry” it meant.
It was just about getting dark but Amar’s mind was as clear as the day had been a few minutes back. He knew what he had to do with the charm. He would send the charm back to the company that speacilizes in such ashes to glass services. Chances were they would have made this one and might be able to reunite this one with its rightful owner, probably heart broken having lost such an important part of their life.
Somehow, somewhere the inscription had triggered enough courage in his own heart to go back to his troubles and give it another go. “Tu chinta na kar” - Exactly something his mom would have said had she been alive and seen him in this state.
Up there somewhere in a different dimension, dealing with after life matters of our world and Amar's, another argument broke out among the Karma account staff. The matter at heart- should the good deed of saving Amar's life be counted towards the credit of the original speaker of those words in the inscription - fondly known as Penji?
