9. The House with Open Doors

Kris listened to Mira play for what seemed like an eternity. Beside him, Pama was praising her incessantly, like a drunk football fan. Kris could get used to this euphonic air. Gazing at Mira for long, he noted that she might very well be a requiem for his lost summers.

Kris had started this life as an incarnation of his original form. He was never in the human body before that and therefore, he was born as a baby in Doorka, slowly learning the ways of humans. His birth parents died soon and he was adopted to Sweetura where he learnt to laugh, love and live. Everything he had become was thanks to the people who loved and supported all the same. After the war, nothing was the same, but. The city and he knew it no longer existed. Every family lost someone to the war ; there was pain in the eyes of his people and as king, he felt that it was his failure. Although they won the war, his heart was drenched in the blood of all his people lost to the war. He, then, gave up his human life by staging his own death.

Pama's loud squeals broke the train of his reveries. Kris looked at the two women: Mira looked without qualms for once; Pama was incorrigibly hyperactive, no matter how much time passed. He wondered how they always stayed in character. Mira too...has always been like this, after all...

--------------------------

As soon as Mira left for the shop, Pama helped Kris with washing the dishes.

"Do you like all this, Kris? The Human Experience?"

"Of course. The enigma of a perishable existence is truly haunting. I could never really get over it."

"But you're non-perishable", Pama chuckled.

Kris smiled at her attempt to make a joke. There was something naive about this headstrong woman.

"How's everyone?" Kris went quiet immediately after asking this.

"They're the same, you know. After centuries of living together, you'd think people would become closer, but the more we got to know each other, the more distant we became."

"You know, being that close becomes chaotic, so much so that it is difficult at times to distinguish the self from the other. This is the reasons why humans die. If they lived immortal lives, us gods will feel their every emotions. That's like signing a contract for self-combustion."

"What a good example", Pama rolled her eyes and then broke into a smile. "Okay, tell me, Kris," she continues, "why did you not pursue Mira back then?"

Kris's face was painted on with a smile of melancholy. Only if he could let go of her, but he couldn't, not then, not now, not ever.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Although it looked like a small café from the entrance, inside there were multiple rooms — all of them with similar off-white interiors and glass windows with square partitions which were painted white. The first room was the café, then to the right, there would be the piano room. There was not enough space for a grand piano here so Kris chose a mini grand piano custom-made with a baroque finish so that it would mimic the elegance of the grand piano.

At the end of the piano room, to the left was the library room. To the left of the library was the kitchen but there were no doors connecting the two. Behind the cafe room, there was the jazz room which could be used as a multipurpose media room to host mini concerts or book / poetry readings. Of course, the piano room could also be used for the same.

Kris and Pama discussed the interiors: they wanted to retain the white floral theme in all rooms except the library. That room was going to have a yellow theme, with ornate chairs as well as classic library benches and desks with personal reading lamps for each reader. On the whole, it could accommodate 20 readers at best.

The previous helped them with finding the right staff for the café — a couple of them were previous employees. They posted notices outside to find waiters and other staff including the musicians. They also started publicising the grand opening of the cafe after minor renovations. With Mira's help, Pama contacted few budding novelists to come do a reading session at the cafe. They were more than willing to oblige.

Kris went around supervising everything when he received a call from an unknown number. He had recently bought the phone so only a few people knew his number. He picked up the call.

"Ah, baby boy. Did you forget mommy already?"

"Oh shiet!" Kris disconnected, sweating profusely already.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Mira?!" A frantic Pama rushed into the shop. "Did Krsna come here?"

"Who?"

"Kris.. Kris. He was at the cafe, the staff says that he received a call and then he panicked. He's nowhere to be seen since then. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Oh my. Shall I come with you?"

"No, stay put. Better, go home. He might be there."

As Pama ran out, Mira quickly closed the bookshop and left for home.

On reaching home, Mira found the door open. So Kris must have come home. Mira called out to him,

"Kris? Pama?"

No response.

As she reached the living room, she could smell something burning. She looked around and to her left sat a woman clad in a black net gown and a veiled hat. She was smoking a long, thin, black cigarette. The translucent net fell over her face but the visage was vaguely visible. The face was that of a tired, ageing woman. Mira was startled. The woman looked up at her.

"My, oh, my. Aren't you Mira?"

Mira had the sudden urge to run out of the house but suddenly, a man walked in through the door. If someone could look more authoritative than Kris in somebody else's house, it would be this man. He walked straight to the old woman and called her by her name,

" Pootna. Get out. Now."

"Oh my. I'm so popular that Sive came to seek me out?"

"NOW!" Sive roared and the old woman got up from the sofa, smirking and still smoking.