And then, after nearly three weeks, the day arrived. The door of his ward slowly opened and there she was, Death. 

BY ADITYA MOHAN

IMAGE BY CAMEO VENCHIARUTTI

There was a young, skinny boy with golden-brown hair and dark-brown eyes named Fanaa. He lived in an old orphanage, which was placed in the outer edge of the city called Apocla. The orphanage was slowly decaying like a flower without sun. Its windows, which once gleamed with hope, were now shattered remnants of their former selves, broken like a tooth in a weathered smile. The roof of the orphanage was collapsing under the weight of the years, rain came in through the cracks and stained the walls with streaks of dampness. Even though he grew up in terrible conditions, Fanaa still roamed around with a smile. His heart resonated goodness. He always cared for the other kids. Even forgave those who treated him badly. He somewhat knew that life was difficult and everyone fights a silent battle, so he always wanted to treat others with kindness. He believed kindness and love could heal even the most gruesome pain. 

But who was once a skinny, active little boy that would run endlessly in a game of tag, was now a delicate, weakened being that coughs and sleeps all day long. When Fanaa fell sick, he ignored his symptoms and acted like everything was fine. But soon his body couldn’t handle the illness. He had developed migraines and started coughing up blood. He even had trouble breathing properly. Fanaa was confused and scared about what was happening to him. He was just in pain every day with not a single second of comfort. He felt anxious and helpless. Yet, deep down in his heart, he was hopeful that everything will be okay. The owners of the orphanage were an old couple. The old man was often cruel to the children and yelled harsh, hurtful things. He wasn’t like that at first. He used to smile a lot and he genuinely cared about others’ well-being. Fanaa has seen him feed street dogs by hand and help the needy with either food or money. But since he lost his job at the bank, the financial burden made him cold. Due to the lack of finance and funding, the orphanage also suffered a lot. The children were provided small portions of food. Children used to wear torn clothes because they couldn’t get new ones unless someone donated them. There were power outages and it used to get terrible, especially in winters as the children used to sleep on the floor over a thin mat. The floor used to get extremely cold, and children shivered throughout the night. Some barely slept while others slept close to each other to avoid dying from the cold.  

When the old man learned about Fanaa’s illness, his first thought was to throw Fanaa out of the orphanage so that the disease wouldn't spread. But his wife, who established the orphanage in 1997, and kept it running for the last 8 years, was an old caring woman. Fanaa really liked the old woman. Once, she baked some cookies and gave one each to the orphanage children. After giving a cookie to everyone, she sat near Fanaa. She offered Fanaa another cookie. It was the last one, which she was saving for herself. Fanaa was delighted, but confused. He asked the woman why she was offering him another cookie. The woman told him with a soft voice that a good deed never goes wasted. She knew another cookie would make Fanaa happier, so she gave it to him. But she asked Fanaa for a promise. She wanted Fanaa to promise that whenever he gets a chance to do something good for others, he must do it. Fanaa happily agreed as he took a bite out of the delicious last cookie.  

The old woman convinced her husband to send Fanaa to the hospital so that they might save him. The old man agreed but only on one condition; that he wouldn’t give any money for his treatment. An ambulance from the hospital came and took Fanaa. 

The doctors diagnosed Fanaa with tuberculosis. He was already weak and malnourished. The doctors had no hope of saving him. They were already frustrated with the lack of payment for his treatment and knew he needed a heavy dose of medication. They knew the boy was already in the final stage and would die, but they still treated him and put him on the ventilator, which might keep him alive for as long as possible.  

Fanaa’s body was too weak to fight the disease spreading in his body. 

And then, after nearly three weeks, the day arrived. The door of his ward slowly opened and there she was, Death. 

She slowly came towards Fanaa. She wore a black cloak and had a dark face with black eyes. The room smelled rusty with her presence. She walked as softly as a shadow, not making a single sound. Her aura was heavy and felt like stillness and loss, yet truth and peace. She neither seemed like a person nor an unearthly being. She seemed like something that exists beyond rhyme or reason. Beyond life and nature itself.   

“It’s time,” she whispered. Her voice as cold as a winter night. Fanaa looked at her as though he was waiting for her.  

There was a time Fanaa was afraid of the idea of death. His little head couldn’t understand it. He used to wonder where people went after they died. He wondered if they became stars like other people say, or if their souls just wander around earth like ghosts. He didn’t really believe in ghosts, though. He couldn’t understand the concept and refused to believe that there is nothing after death. There must be something, he used to tell himself. A garden, perhaps, for the dead souls, or maybe a mansion with an endless supply of food. Something other than nothingness.  

He wasn’t scared of dying anymore. He already accepted his fate and welcomed death with open arms.  

“I’m ready,” he replied.  

Death was stunned. Usually, when she visits the people who are dying, she sees fear in their eyes, hears panic in their screams. They beg Death to let them live. But this boy, he was so calm. His voice was as soothing as an angel. Death had the power to see the past of the people who were dying. She could feel each and every thing that they’ve felt in their lives. She could see every memory, every little detail they’ve observed, every little thought they’ve had. She knew who was a gentle soul, who was harsh and cruel, who was an artist at heart, and who was a lover of life. Maybe it was a gift or a curse, but Death could see it all. Yet, she knew everything that has ever existed, whether beautiful or horrible, must sooner or later vanish within her.  

She saw everything that the boy had suffered, how lonely his days were and how he was thrown in the hospital to die. As bizarre as it may sound, death’s cold heart felt empathy for the boy. 

She said to Fanaa, “You have a good heart, so, for you, I’ll make an exception. I will give you three wishes. You can wish for anything. Tell me boy, what do you want the most in the world?” 

Fanaa was astonished at the death’s offer. He thought for a while and then he said, “Oh, sweet lady of death, the orphanage I grew up in is decaying. There is not much food. Neither is there warmth. In summer, we melted and in winter, we froze. The owners try to make things better but they’re a poor old couple living through pension and we don’t get enough donations. For my first wish, please save the orphanage, save it so that the other children don’t end up like me.” 

Death narrowed her brows in confusion. She didn’t expect such a selfless wish. Yet she smiled and said, “The wish is granted. There will be enough food and shelter for all the kids in the orphanage.” 

The boy said, “There was an old lady named Lisa. She used to come visit us in the orphanage and give us candies. Her husband and son died in a car crash. She lived with her dog, Coco. She used to bring her along sometimes and let us play with her. But she stopped visiting the orphanage. I heard that her dog, Coco, was lost. She took her to the market but due to her old age she used to forget things and she forgot to bring Coco home. Coco was all she had and without her, the lady was all alone. For my second wish, please help her find her pet and give her back her joy.” 

Death’s charcoal black eyes widened. Now she spoke with a louder tone. “Boy, I don’t think you understand the power of these wishes. This gift of wishes is as rare as the blood moon. You can wish for anything in the world. Anything.” 

Fanaa looked at Death and said in a clear tone, “I know what I’m wishing for.” 

He took a deep breath and said to Death, “Finally, I’ve never known who my parents were. I’ve never known their names or what they look like. But I know they must be going through major troubles. Maybe they had no other choice but to leave me at the orphanage. For my last and final wish, help them. Solve all their problems and make their life better.” 

Death took a step back in bewilderment. She couldn’t believe what she heard. This dying boy, who was neglected by his parents and jilted in an old wrecked orphanage is asking for his unknown parent’s happiness! 

“You . . . you didn’t spend a single wish on yourself. You used all the wishes for others' betterment. Boy, you don’t know what you’ve done. You could have asked for money so that your treatment happens in a better hospital. You could have asked for people who would have loved you and cared for you till your final breath. You could’ve asked for some more years of life so that you could fulfil your dreams. Why didn’t you boy? Why didn’t you avoid your death and take the hands of life?” questioned the perplexed figure of Death. 

The boy moved his head back on the pillow. He closed his eyes for a moment. He smiled a smile of satisfaction like there is nothing he needs more than a peaceful sleep. 

The boy said, “When you were providing me with those wishes, you said, wish for the things you need the most and I thought about it. Yes, I could’ve wished for some sweet smiling faces standing beside me right now, who would hold my hand and tell me it’s okay. But that love wouldn’t be true. It would just be a beautiful lie fulfilled through your wish. I don’t need that. Yes, I could’ve avoided my death and asked for a few more years but I wouldn’t have been able to help those people in a way I’ve helped them now. If my life doesn’t provide happiness to others then I don’t want that life. At least I’ve helped those people and made their life easier. My heart would never have accepted if I wished anything for myself. My joy lies in the smiles of others.” 

Death, the separator of life. The final chapter in stories. The end of everything. A world of total darkness. An unavoidable and cruel spectacle of nature. That Death, almost shed tears. A heart as rigid as stone almost broke and melted. Death felt less like a destroyer and more like the boy’s mother. 

In her soft voice, she said, “Oh my dear boy. You have a heart more precious than anything this world has to offer. Your soul is as pure as a white dove. Love resonates from within you. All your wishes have been granted.” 

She went closer to the boy. Put her hand above his head and she said, “Sleep now, boy. Forget all your sufferings. All your pain has come to an end. Let go from everything. Just look at the light, breathe the peaceful aroma and rest.” 

The tubes and wires attached to Fanaa’s body fell apart, the monitors and machines went silent. Death looked at Fanaa with a somber gaze, her eyes held infinite depth. She held Fanaa like a newborn baby in her thin, dark arms. He looked so peaceful, so quiet, so lifeless. He was resting like a little bird who was tired after flying across the sky the whole day. Death slowly spread out her majestic dark wings. The feathers shimmered, casting a glow that illuminated the room in a haunting light. She looked above and ascended into the darkness, carrying a pure soul into the unknown. 

Aditya Mohan Aditya Mohan is a creative writer based in Toronto, Ontario. He is pursuing a Professional Writing and Communications program at Humber College. He is also a self-published author of the poetry book Wandering Amidst the Shadows. Through his passion for storytelling, he intricately weaves thoughts and ideas into captivating narratives.

Image: Home of Hypocrisy (Cameo Venchiarutti)

Edited for publication by Raegen Montaque, as part of the Bachelor of Creative & Professional Writing program.

HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation.