Short Story: Mudh Mystic by Rakesh S

In this short story, Rakesh S brings together elements of fantasy, and magical realism mixed with tons of drama and emotions to create an unforgettable tale of suspense and intrigue.

The first thing we saw when we stepped out of the traveller van was the snow-capped mountain. It was far from the village, but it was the only snow-capped mountain visible. It was August, and snow on the other peaks had already melted. Our backpacking group had arrived in the tiniest village in India, Mudh, containing just about 20 houses and a 200-meter road. While others clicked pictures of the snow-capped mountain, I heard a gentle whisper from it, “Aao,” inviting me closer to her abode. The village was outside of mobile networks and the internet, but with its gentle whispers, it was magical. I had decided to meet the voice.

At 4 pm, our tall group leader Nihar walked us out of the village towards the snow-capped mountain. I was thrilled. But when we reached a huge patch of grass, we all lay down. I stared at the white unicorns and fishes floating across the blue sky as I felt the cold wind kiss my cheeks. I knew the others would picnic here and return. So I walked towards the mountain. I was afraid somebody would call me, but no one did. And thus, began my unforgettable journey.