It’s better to sleep sometimes and never wake up. It’s better not to know the truth that lies in yourself. It’s better to let it be as it is; because if it is known, nature shutters. Truth becomes dim in your eyes.
That’s what Ravi thought as she ran in the woods away from the Ogre. Her naked feet were cautious on stepping thorns and stones as she ran. She jumped over streams and bushes as she ran away from the Ogre. In her thoughts, everything had gone haywire. She panted as she ran, her legs gaining strength along the way.
She thought, “Mama told me not to go to the Eastside. Eastside lives an Ogre that eats children.” The regrets had started to fill her mind, “Mama told me not to fetch firewood on the Eastside of the village, but I did.” The thought of what was coming next was the worst thing she could ever imagine, “Mama told me never to disobey her…” before she could complete her sentence in her mind, Ravi came to a stop. She had reached the edge of the forest. Down the way, she looked: it was a dip valley. Dipper than anything she knew and hollow than any valley she had seen in her life. It was approaching, roaring and roaring and roaring as it broke branches running to the place she was. She suddenly remembered what her mother had told her, always, “Daughter, when you have the worst day, close your eyes. Close your eyes very hard and sing this song with me:
“Everything is going to be fine,
I’ll fight and fight and fight,
Till I see the sunshine,
That is what’s right”
Ravi sang the song with the voice of her mother in her head several times. The wind stopped, and the trees came still; the Ogres roar seemed to be from far, and suddenly she woke up. Ravi looked at the window, the sun shined her room bright, and everything was quiet, “It’s just a dream,” She sighed in relief.