The Curse

(Fiction)

I was walking through a crowded market today when I suddenly heard a voice.

“Hey! You there—come here.”

I ignored it and kept walking.
But just a few steps later, I heard it again:

“I’m talking to you! Where are you going?”

I stopped and began looking around to trace the voice.
It didn’t take me long.
Behind the trunk of a tree sat an old man, calling out to me.

Since he was a stranger, I chose to ignore him and moved on.
But just as I stepped forward, he called again:

“Stop right there, Mouse!”

Now I froze.
Stunned and confused, I stared at him.
How did he know who I was?
Should I go toward him or not? I was torn.
Then, cautiously, I looked around and finally walked over.

As I came closer, I saw he was a white-bearded elder.
He motioned for me to sit.
Without thinking, I sat down on a large stone nearby.
The confusion must’ve shown on my face, because he said:

“Don’t be alarmed. You know me.”

As he spoke, he scooped water from a clay pitcher and drank deeply.

Looking me in the eye, he asked,
“Would you like some?”

I shook my head.
“No, I’m not thirsty.”

After finishing his drink, he said,
“I know a great deal about you. In this life, you are a mouse.
But I also know what you were in your past life.”

My eyes widened in disbelief.

Seeing my shock, he went on,
“In your previous birth, you were a cat.”

His words left me dizzy.
I was sweating, staring at him in disbelief.

With a trembling voice, I finally asked,
“W-Who... who are you?”

He smiled, then calmly said,
“You don’t know me?”

“I don’t. We’ve never met,” I replied.

To which he said,
“I am Ishwar—your God.
You used to visit me from time to time in your past life.
You may not remember.
But don’t be afraid—relax.
I was your well-wisher back then… and I still am, like a friend.”

Saying this, Ishwar began taking me back into the past.

It was like a film reel.
Scene by scene, my previous life played before me.

In that life, too, Ishwar had been seated under a tree, in a meditative posture.
I could hear my own voice from the past:

“I don’t want to be a cat.”

To which Ishwar had replied:
“Very well, then. In your next life, you shall not be one.”

He showed me my boss, who had been a donkey in the previous birth,
and introduced me to my old friends—the rabbit and the dog.

As Ishwar explained the cycle of rebirth,
memories came flooding back.
My fear slowly melted away,
but sadness took its place.

Inwardly, I was grieving:
“In the last life, I was a cat. In this one, a mouse.
What sort of punishment is this?”

Seeing my sadness, Ishwar asked,
“What’s wrong?”

I said,
“Why did you make me a mouse?
What sin or crime did I commit to deserve this?
Last time I pleaded not to be a cat—and now I’m a mouse?
Isn’t this cruelty?”

He said nothing.

I continued:
“When will you stop being unjust to me?
Will you keep doing whatever you please with my life?”

Still, Ishwar remained silent.

“You haven’t been fair to my friends either,” I said.
“You wasted their lives too—just like before.”

He kept listening in silence, eyes closed.
As if he had no answers.

He seemed aged now.
I wondered if he was going blind—if he could no longer see clearly.
Maybe he was silently regretting having made me a cat in the past.

After a pause, I spoke again:

“Ishwar? Ishwar?”
Startled, he opened his eyes.

“So, what now? What’s to become of my friends and me?
Will we ever break this curse of animal births?
Or do we still have more wandering to do?”

Ishwar fell silent again.
He closed his eyes once more.

“Ishwar,” I said,
“I want to be human now.
So please—show me a path to freedom… the path of truth.”

But Ishwar had drifted off to a deep sleep, right there where he sat.

And I…
I am still trying to wake him up.