Chapter 112: The past (Part 1)

The wind blew quietly from the rock, accompanied by the sound of Uncle Johnny blowing into our ears.

“This is Dinya, or rather, this is where Dinya’s last hope lies.” This was the opening line of Uncle Johnny’s speech, and he was talking about the red flower that was swaying slightly on the edge of the rock.

Although I had already expected it, I was still a little surprised to hear Johnny say it. Johnny’s sister’s soul really rests on a red flower? Why has Johnny never been to this place all these years?

At that moment, I had a desire to open my third eye and see what was behind the red flower. Would I see a beautiful Indian woman as its true form?

But I wouldn’t do that. In fact, it is impolite and even provocative to open the eyes of the heavens to spy on the soul when there is no need to. It is the sister of Uncle Johnny, and Uncle Johnny would not agree if I did that.

As if he had read my mind, Uncle Johnny looked at the red flower and said, “Do you want to see the beautiful Zoya? Then you will see her when the song starts at night. Wait a minute, maybe you will see her too, but now put away your curiosity and don’t disturb her peace.”

When Mr. Johnny finished speaking, the red flower began to sway gently again, as if in response to Mr. Johnny. Mr. Johnny then stood up and looked into the distance of the deep pool, saying, “It was many years ago, and now that I think about it, it’s so far away that it’s like I’m reading about someone else’s story. The only thing in common is that no matter if it’s my story or someone else’s, when you open up this past again, the deepest part of your heart will bleed. I never thought I was wrong, but it’s really hard to admit that I’m wrong. The hardest thing is when you really face your mistakes, but the price has already been paid.

When he said this, Uncle Johnny was in the habit of reaching for his bottle of wine, but the little tin flask he had thrown around so many times was actually thrown away this time.

So, he could only smile awkwardly, then squatted down, gently stroked the swaying red flower, and then said in a low voice, “Where should I start? When I was very young…”

In 1872, Tripathi Sharma was born in a manor house on the outskirts of a large city in India.

At that time, India was still under British colonial rule, but this did not affect the good life that Sharma could enjoy from birth. The ancient surname of Sharma had long predestined his nobility, and his parents were not the kind of people who had noble blood but no real power or wealth.

“My parents were very kind, at least that’s how I saw them. The world at that time was undoubtedly in a state of chaos. Technological change was destined to bring about changes in the world order, with wars raging everywhere, and powerful new countries emerging everywhere, conquering the old, rich countries with their long histories. My country was undoubtedly caught up in this conquest, which made my parents miserable, but they were powerless. They put their faith in religion, and their sincere belief made them a little kinder than other aristocrats, but only a little kinder. In general, my family was like a paradise, a paradise protected by my parents. They did not let me have too much contact with the world in my childhood, and even their suffering. For example, they clearly hated being colonized, but for the sake of power and wealth, or peace, they had to flatter and play with the British… “Uncle Johnny used this sentence to summarize his childhood.

In any case, little Sharma at that time did not have such a deep understanding of his parents.

He was just growing up happily in this paradise, under the care of his parents, who had a bottom line of kindness.

He had a good life, received the best education, and was baptized… And his childhood was not lonely, because he had a playmate named Patel, who was always with him no matter what he was doing. Because of this companionship, Patel received the same conditions as Sharma, such as a good life, a good education, and a good religious baptism…

“If I tell the truth, it will be unbelievable to others, but my family has never told anyone the truth. That is, Parthai is actually a Dalit, a person who is lower than the lowest caste under the caste system. You can understand it as ‘untouchable’ or ‘enslaved unclean people’. Even the lowest caste will not approach them because they are unclean and unworthy of having a name… In short, there are too many rules to trample on this lowest race. When I was a child, I didn’t know that Patel was a Dalit either.” This is what Uncle Jonny said about the appearance of Patel.

Yes, little Sharma didn’t know that Patel was a Dalit. In fact, what does it matter? In the child’s innocent world, everything is judged very simply. He and I got along well, we had a lot of fun together, and he was nice to me. That was enough to build a friendship.

Status, position, money, differences are all no reason!

In Sharma’s eyes, Patel was a handsome boy, but that wasn’t all. He also had a strong body and a smart brain. Even when he was baptized and learning about religion, Patel was more talented than Sharma, even though Sharma’s talent was already amazing.

But all this did not make Sharma jealous, because the eight years of growing up that quickly passed by made Sharma realize that Patel was one of the best people in the world to him. He was like a big brother who protected his younger brother, always standing in front of Sharma even in disputes between children, even if he was beaten bloody.

“You don’t have to do that next time. I can teach them a lesson too. I’ve learned a lot of boxing and even yoga. You can’t always get yourself hurt, Patel,” Sharma once said to Patel.

That was the first time he saw the deep sadness in Patel’s eyes: “Even if you are very good, I still can’t let you get hurt. Sharma, you don’t know the difference between you and me. Okay, even if there is no difference, from the bottom of my heart, I am willing to do this. I am grateful for this life.”

At the time, Sharma did not understand these words, but for the first time, he sensed the distance between Patel and himself, and the incredible precocity of Patel.

Time passed quietly, and it was also when Patel was ten years old and Sharma was eight years old that Sharma’s younger sister was born, Valisha Sharma, and she also had a lovely nickname – Diya!

“Dya is a lovely, innocent and kind girl who is heartbreakingly beautiful. Forgive me for using all the best adjectives in the world to describe her, because she deserves such praise… Her birth brought sunshine to our family, and also brought something different to my life and Patel’s life. What is it? In the masculine world of two boys, there is suddenly a soft, kind and beautiful girl. Patel and I both love her, love her, and care about her.” When he talks about his sister, Uncle Johnny’s tone becomes soft and tender. We can all feel the love he has for his sister, sincere and coming from the heart of a brother.

It was a happy time of growing up, with two intelligent and strong older brothers and a kind and beautiful younger sister who adored them.

They lived happily, and everything was as beautiful as a fairy tale. They ‘ventured’ all over the vast manor and even the neighboring territories, and every time they harvested, they gained unforgettable memories that would last a lifetime.

But the most ruthless and most affectionate thing in the world is time. It is ruthless in that it can take away all your good things, and it is affectionate in that it can also heal any wounds. It exists fairly, and it doesn’t let anyone have one more minute of daylight or one less minute of night just because they are more great.

In the blink of an eye, Sharma was 18, Patel was 20, and Dia was 12.

In those days, according to the age of Patel and Sharma, they should have had a wife, but they didn’t, just because something a little different happened to them.

“It’s a secret, a secret that our family keeps to ourselves! In India, there are really powerful religious people… They have all kinds of magical powers or abilities. Now I know that they are called yogis, but at the time I didn’t know. The yogi community is a special existence, and in this religious country, it has an unreachable status. I have this talent, and so does Patel, and he is even better than me. But we are not treated the same way,” said Uncle Jonny.

At that time, Sharma already knew that Patel was a Dalit. The reason he was able to grow up with Sharma was because of the kindness of his parents, which was a little different from the nobility.

Patel’s father had saved Shamar’s father’s life and sacrificed his own life for it, so Patel became the lucky child who could grow up with the most noble Brahmin! Although the Brahmin generally belong to religious figures, this does not prevent them from having power, influence and wealth. Even because of their caste, they are more convenient to get all this, so Patel’s sensitive identity makes many people jealous and makes many people speculate…

But the truth is always known only by the Sharma family.

“You know, people are born with different social statuses. In the eyes of many people, it is only natural for a slave to protect his master and even give up his life. But in my opinion, even a lowly life is a life, and we should be grateful. Patel’s father not only saved my life, but also moved me at the time. And raising Patel was not a difficult thing to do. I think this is my repayment.” Sharma’s father said to Sharma.

It was this little bit of kindness that made the parents make such a decision, but when Sharma heard these words, he felt a little bit uncomfortable, as if he was being given alms.

But the caste system was so deeply rooted that it was an insurmountable obstacle. Sharma also felt that Patel was lucky enough.

So, even though Patel’s talent was better than his, he was still the son of God to the outside world. Sharma felt that there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, it would be an unfortunate thing if Patel became the son of God. It would be unthinkable if people knew that he was a Dalit.