“You should have come at least…!”
Marta spurted out these words between her strangled breaths of anguish.
“I never knew that you could be so inhuman. I’m ashamed of you now… literally!”
No one had heard Marta’s voice so coarsely and bitterly resounding, as yet. Nevertheless, those words of heightened agony made little impact on her brother Lazar’s face. Neither did his composure vanish.
“Don’t you feel like shedding a drop of tears at least? Are you a human being?” Marta finally exploded, mainly infuriated by Lazar’s stoic silence. With that yell, Marta disappeared into another room of that big house with loud, resounding footsteps.
Mary was somewhere there inside, still sobbing in a subdued manner.
One could hear Marta’s bitter murmurings from the kitchen, reverberating along with the clang of the utensils:
“Everyone needed the Master during his good days. He walked among us doing good to all. And what all good things to enumerate! He loved us selflessly. Lazar, you are the one he loved the most. Think about that day he raised you from the dead! What greater favor can one do for anyone than giving back life? Still, you did not come when people were ruthlessly manhandling him… when they killed him on the cross like a criminal! At least you could come and say to them: ‘Don’t kill my master!’ But you didn’t come! You are the cruelest of all!”
Marta uttered those last words, storming back to the living room, and thrusting a menacing stare on the stoic-faced Lazar, who was reclining with his eyes lost in the void. She stood before Lazar and panted with overwhelming emotion.
Some women, who had gathered there, tried to pacify Marta. Forcibly, they took her inside. Marta’s anger burst into a long and loud lamentation, which drowned the soft and subdued sobs of Mary.
Lazar gazed at the horizon, languidly waning in the west. The Sun had already set ominously, while there was still an hour to go for the evening.
Someone lighted a lamp and placed it on the lampstand in the parlor. With his stolid eyes still fixed on the horizon, Lazar muttered:
“The Sun will rise tomorrow!”
“I know that the Sun will rise tomorrow. But we need this lamp here to have some light right now.”
The man, who lighted the lamp, said with apparent uneasiness.
Lazar lifted his face and looked. It was Manasse. Manasse has a vineyard in Jerusalem. He used to come here occasionally to listen to the words of the Master. Displeasure was obvious on his face. It was clear that the reason for his displeasure was not the lamp issue.
“I agree with what Marta said. I never thought that you would be so thankless. I was among the witnesses when the Master called you back to life, from four days in the dark dampness of the tomb. I feel ashamed of you. You didn’t have the heart to visit him at least in his final moments…” Manasse’s displeasure became vocal.
Lazar was serene and unmoved. His eyes were fixed on the flame of the lamp. Softly and gently, he whispered:
“I can no longer see death from an emotional perspective, dear friend…”
Manasse gazed at the glow of the lamp reflected in Lazar’s grey eyes.
“Do you mean to say that we need not grieve when our dear ones die?” Asher asked.
By then, a group of inquisitive people had gathered around Lazar, apart from Manasse.
“Why should we feel sorry, my friends? I have seen the other side not only of death but also of life. How can I weep? I see death in every life and life in every death. Tell me, should I weep for the dead or laugh for the living?”
Everyone looked at each other’s faces, baffled. Every stare exuded different shades of meaning. While some stares meant ‘this man is crazy’, some others reflected cluelessness. A third group of people said in their minds, “His words burn with enlightenment!” With varied thoughts and a motley of emotions, they eagerly waited for his words.
When the flame of the lamp flickered in the wind, Lazar saw Marta there, leaning on the door.
“The sea is a mystery for the one standing by the seashore. A scary thing for him, ostensibly. The endless expanse and unexplored depths of the sea…! If only we had the power to traverse over the seas and the lands! But for a person, who voyages on the sea day and night, the sea is no more a mystery. Every fear and every sorrow exist only until the end of ignorance. Once we know, once we have seen the other side of everything, our minds will be free from emotions. Is it wrong to be so? Tell me, am I culpable for not wailing and screaming like you?”
Lazar surveilled each one’s face with a prying stare. Nobody dared to reply. Each one of them was thinking of their parents or relatives, who were dead. They turned pensive, meditating on their own deaths in the future. But the memories of the violent death of their Master lingered in their minds, still frightening them. They stood on the seashore of cluelessness darkened by the Sun that had set. The room was pregnant with a profoundly poignant silence.
Suddenly, the door was opened from the inside. Mary, who was sitting in one of the rooms, listening to all their conversations, stepped out with a candle in her hands. She was still sobbing.
Lazar thrust a stare at his sister’s languid face. His stare reflected a non-verbal reproach, “Why can’t you stop weeping? Haven’t you seen all these people, who have stopped weeping?”
“Lazar, I have something to tell you…” Mary said in her feeble but determined voice. Everyone turned to her, eager to listen to her words.
“What do you want to say, my sister?” Lazar asked.
Caressing the wax balls oozing from the candle, Mary said:
“Not many days ago, a death occurred in this house. The death of my brother, Lazar. For four days, my sister Marta and I wept bitterly. The Master arrived on the fourth day. My brother Lazar, you who sit in front of me right now, had rotten in the tomb. Even I didn’t hide my displeasure to the Master for being late to arrive. How can a man rotten in the tomb for four days come back to life? Overwhelmed by great sorrow, I shed profuse tears in front of him. He read my heart. He knew that my tears sprung from my love for you. Despite being so sure to raise you in the next moment, the Master wept before your tomb! In front of all these people, unabashed! Tell me now, Lazar! Shouldn’t you weep because you have seen the other side of death and the meaning of death? Why did the Master, who could bring you back to life, weep in front of your tomb? Give me the answer, brother?”
Stunned and struck by a lightning of enlightened love, Lazar gazed into the tearful eyes of Mary. The flames of her candle blazed intensely and the drops of wax oozing from it fell into his soul like the tears of Christ.
Lazar burst into a loud scream!
While everyone else except Mary stood startled, the flames of the lamps illuminated that night. Drops of wax rolled down the candle like the warmth of boundless love…
Abhilash Fraizer
About the Author
Abhilash Fraizer is an Indian author, poet, novelist, journalist, translator and advertising copy writer hailing from Kerala. A Post Graduate in English Language and Literature, Abhilash has authored 14 books and has written numerous poems, stories and articles for various international and Indian journals. His latest work is ‘Father, a collection of poems’, published globally by Wipf & Stock Publishers, Oregon, USA. His other renowned works in English include ‘The End of Wars’, a novel and ‘Everlasting Things are Incomplete’, a collection of poems. Dalamarmaram (The Rustle of Leaves), Paravakalude Vazhi (The Way of Birds), Raamazhayude Theerathu (On the banks of Night Rain), Sajalam (Aqueous) and Prapancha gaatha (The Ballad of the Universe) are some of his noted works in Malayalam, the official language of Kerala.
‘Prapancha gaadha’ won Kreatiff Silver Award for the second-best Novel in 2020. A recipient of multiple accolades, Abhilash has been awarded with KCBC (Kerala Catholic Bishops’ Council) Media Commission’s ‘Yuva Prathibha Award’ in 2014. His poem ‘Between the Islands’ was voted and enlisted among the best 100 poems in a global contest held by Poemhunter.com. A screen writer as well, Abhilash has written scripts for noted Sight and Sound Shows including ‘I Believe’ and ‘Ammamaram’, staged in a major venue in Kochi and were watched by over 50,000 people. He has also written scripts for various television programs and lyrics for about 50 songs, which have been recorded for various albums. He lives in Ernakulam, Kerala with his wife Sunitha and two sons Ezek and Izan.
