He came for tax, left with secrets—in the silence after lightning, only questions remained.
The ceremony continued smoothly, though a strange tension hummed beneath the surface. None of us—not my parents, not the relatives, not even the Pandit ji—had expected a tax collector to appear at our doorstep on this important day. Yet here he sat, silent and watchful, his presence looming like a storm cloud that hadn't yet decided whether to break.
For now, at least, he remained quiet. He observed without interfering, his sharp eyes cataloging everything but his mouth staying firmly shut. So the ceremony continued peacefully. But I knew it couldn't stay like this forever.
What was strange was how the collector and his men seemed to become invisible when no one was looking directly at them. They faded into the background like shadows. His assistants were the worst—blank-faced men who moved like robots, following every command without question. They looked like they'd been brainwashed, like someone had erased their minds and left only obedient shells behind.
I watched them with disgust. Traitors, every single one of them—Indian men who had sold their souls to foreign masters, who brought suffering to their own people for a few coins.
The thought made my tiny fists clench without me even realizing it.
But let's leave that aside for now and focuses on the main thing—the ceremony. After naming me, I finally had a real name! I was free from that cringey name "Munna"! I had been so irritated and annoyed when everyone kept calling me that.
Now, it was time to feed the Pandit ji. In Hinduism, Brahmins are considered the mouth of Lord Vishnu, so feeding them is equivalent to feeding the deity. Furthermore, it is considered a way to express respect to ancestors, satisfy the soul, and earn merit. My mother had prepared all the food herself, cooking for hours to make everything perfect. She served him with great respect, her hands trembling slightly with nervousness.
While this was happening, I was resting in my bua's lap. It was actually really comfortable—warm and safe, ahem. But I couldn't relax completely. My eyes kept drifting back to him—the tax collector. I just couldn't stand seeing him in our house. He was just sitting there quietly, but his silence felt dangerous, like a snake waiting to strike. My worries were growing bigger with every minute he stayed.
Just as I was thinking all these thoughts, I noticed the tax collector was about to do something. He pulled his left attendant close and whispered something in his ear. The attendant's face changed immediately—his eyes went wide with shock. I was surprised too. I had thought these men were like robots, programmed to show no emotion. But I guess I was wrong.
After a moment, the attendant walked toward my bua, where I was resting comfortably in her lap. He spoke politely but firmly. "Apologies for this sudden request, but my lord wishes to see this child for a moment. May I please take him?"
Everyone in the room went silent with shock. And obviously, I was the most shocked of all.
"Wait, what!? Why the hell does he want to see me suddenly? Does he know my real identity? No, that's not possible... but he doesn't look like someone who likes to play with kids," I thought, panic rising in my tiny chest.
After me, the Pandit ji looked the most shocked. He even stopped eating mid-bite and stared at the tax collector with his mouth slightly open. Although, in that moment, it was kind of funny to see.
When the attendant asked that, my bua—who was carrying me—looked at my father. His expression told her yes, it was okay. My mother was very anxious about this, but my father gently calmed her down with a soft touch and quiet words.
The attendant took me very carefully, holding me with utmost respect. As his feet moved toward the tax collector, my worry grew stronger and stronger. I was trying my best to pretend to be a normal newborn baby, but I couldn't stop this fear bubbling inside me.
He handed me to the collector very carefully. Everyone's eyes were on this moment. Of course, they were all worried about what was happening. But the collector seemed to understand the atmosphere in the room.
"Ahem," he spoke up with a serious expression. "I apologize for this sudden request, but you all don't need to worry. I'm not going to do anything to this child."
After hearing this, a cold silence fell over the house again.
"I... just wanted to play with the child because he looks adorable," he continued, his voice lower now, his expression softening slightly. "It's been a long time since I've held a child. So please, continue with what you were doing without worry."
It was kind of funny. I never thought this man—who looked like a stone-hearted person—would say something like this. Maybe he said it to ease the tension in the room, I thought.
After hearing his words, the Pandit ji was the one who laughed the most. But as soon as the collector heard his laughter, he glared at him so intensely that it looked like he might kill him on the spot. The Pandit ji immediately focused back on his eating. The collector's attendants were also trying to control their laughter—I guessed they had never heard their master speak like this before.
The scene was honestly hilarious.
But it also shifted the tense atmosphere completely. My parents, who had been so anxious just a few minutes ago, were now visibly relieved. I could feel their worry melting away. And I was also relieved.
Seeing their faces relax, I also felt a little lighter inside. For the first time since the collector arrived, I could finally breathe properly—even if I was just a baby pretending not to understand anything.
The situation was kind of awkward between us- me and the tax collector. He was just constantly staring at me for few minutes and I was acting all innocent as a normal baby but feeling anxious inside. Then, finally, he spoke.
"Just why do I get this weird feeling that we…." He paused, then stops, "Never mind."
He murmured the words, but I heard him clearly.
What? Weird feeling? What does he mean? You should complete your damn sentence dude! I thought feeling angry.
He looked like he was about to say something else, so I waited. But then he seemed to change his mind.
"Yeah, it can't be, I must be getting tired from work these days so I must be imagining things. There's no way this can happen." He handed me back to his attendant again after saying this.
You dumbshit! You made me really curious and now you're just backing off? I swear I'm going to curse you! I thought furiously.
Just why do I get this feeling that this child is constantly glaring at me? Or... cursing me?? He thought, his brow furrowed. Ugh, never mind. I think I'm really overthinking things these days.
He shook his head as if clearing away a strange thought, but his eyes kept drifting back to me one more time before he looked away completely.
After that strange little moment between us, the collector finally looked away. He cleared his throat, fixed his uniform, and acted like nothing had happened. His attendant quietly carried me back and handed me to my bua again. She held me close, gently patting my back as if nothing was wrong.
On the outside, everything went back to normal. The relatives started talking again. Plates clinked. Someone in the corner laughed at a joke.
But inside, something had changed.
That man had felt something. Even if he tried to deny it, even if he was telling himself it was all in his head, I knew it wasn't just his imagination.
It was around 4 PM in the afternoon. The Pandit ji was finishing his meal when something funny happened.
The waiters were running around constantly, serving everyone. But at that moment, they brought Gulab Jamun and Kesar Elaichi Doodh—sweet fried dumplings soaked in syrup and fragrant milk with saffron and cardamom. These were the special desserts my mother had prepared.
They first offered them to my parents, but my father politely refused. "Please serve the guests first, not us," he said.
So the waiters started serving everyone. One of them approached the Collector and his assistants to offer them the treats. But the Collector waved his hand dismissively. "Apologies, but we cannot eat anything during working hours," he said firmly.
His underlings' faces fell. I could see it clearly—they wanted those sweets so badly. Their eyes followed the plates, their expressions hungry and desperate. But when their master refused, they had no choice but to control themselves. But their faces were absolutely worth seeing.
Just like that, everything was going smoothly. But I was still a little worried about what would happen after the ceremony ended.
The Pandit ji finally finished his meal and stood to leave. He blessed me and my family one more time before departing, his old hands resting gently on our heads.
After he left, every guest rushed toward the banquet like hungry wolves. I guess they had been very hungry and were eagerly waiting for the Pandit ji to finish so they could eat freely.
My parents and grandparents were laughing at the sight of everyone diving into the food so enthusiastically.
My father also tried to talk to the Collector again. "Why don't you eat something too, sir? I'm sure you would love these dishes. They are made with great care."
The Collector tried to refuse, but then he looked at his underlings. They were absolutely starving—I could see the saliva practically dripping from their mouths as they stared longingly at the food. When the Collector saw their desperate expressions, his face became serious and stern. It was actually a really funny sight to see. I was laughing inside.
But eventually, he allowed them to eat. Only those two—not himself.
"Thank you, my lord! You are truly a great man!" they said loudly and happily, their voices full of genuine gratitude. Then they rushed toward the banquet like their lives depended on it.
And there I was, glaring at the Collector again. Does his stomach have an ache or something that he can't eat anything? I thought irritably.
The Collector seemed to feel my stare. He sighed and muttered under his breath, "Again, just why does this kid glare at me so intensely? Am I just imagining things again?"
But then he seemed to change his mind about something. He looked at my father and nodded slowly.
"Okay, I'll eat," he said, his expression hardening again. "But just a little. Since you are sincerely asking me. But don't think that you'll be able to get away by doing this. Remember that."
There was a threat hidden in those words, but my father didn't seem to notice—or maybe he chose to ignore it.
"Haha. Sure, sir. Please help yourself," Father said with a happy voice. My grandparents were also relieved and happy, feeling like maybe the Collector wasn't such a bad man after all.
The Collector and everyone else ate and enjoyed the banquet. My parents watched with pride as the guests savored every bite. Mother's face glowed with happiness knowing that the food she had worked so hard to prepare was being loved and appreciated by everyone.
For a moment, it felt like a normal family celebration.
For a moment, we were all just people sharing a meal together, not tax collectors and farmers, not rulers and ruled.
For a moment, there was peace.
Now it was time to say goodbye to everyone. It was around evening when the guests started leaving, congratulating my parents and blessing us. Although most of them left only after kissing my cheeks or pinching them one last time. I was relieved that these people were finally leaving. I endured it all like a real man, I told myself.
Both my parents' families wanted to stay longer because they were worried about the situation with the Collector. But my father was truly a worthy man—he calmed them down and assured them that everything would be alright. They left reluctantly, their faces still etched with concern.
I was actually very happy that I had gotten such a great father in this new life.
Just like that, everyone left. Now it was just six of us—me, my parents, the Collector, and his two underlings.
We all stood outside the house, in front of the entrance. My father had invited the Collector to sit inside where they could talk comfortably, but the Collector refused.
"The weather and atmosphere are really nice today, aren't they?" he said, lighting a cheroot. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and golden, and the weather truly was beautiful.
"Umm... Yes," my father said, glancing at my mother in confusion at this strange small talk.
"So, shall we talk about the annual tax now, Mr. Rathore?" the Collector suddenly shifted to a serious expression, his voice becoming sharp and businesslike. It was clear he was ready for important matters.
"Yes, we are ready—what!?" My father was about to respond when suddenly, a lightning bolt crashed down near us. It struck a scarecrow in the nearby field, and the sound was deafening.
Everyone went into shock. And I was the most shocked of all. Because I had just seen death again. This was the first time I had witnessed lightning from this close, and I nearly wet myself in fear.
Wait, why did the weather suddenly change? It was so beautiful just moments ago! I thought, my tiny heart racing.
The Collector's expression was absolutely jaw-dropping. His cheroot fell from his mouth. His underlings stepped back in fear.
But somehow, he managed to compose himself.
I guess this must be a sign... the Collector thought, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.
"Ahem," he said, brushing off his uniform. "I don't know why the weather suddenly changed or why the lightning fell. But we should complete our talk. It's really important, as you know. So let's pretend nothing happened."
He spoke with an unnaturally calm demeanor, as if a lightning strike was just a minor inconvenience.
What the hell are you saying, dude! I thought furiously. A lightning bolt just fell in front of us and you're acting this calm? Do you people have this much greed!
"Yes, you are right, sir," my father also said with a calm, serious expression, though I could sense the fear beneath it.
The Collector stood there for a while, thinking deeply. Then he lit a new cheroot and took a long drag from it.
"Hmm... Okay, I have understood everything and come to a conclusion," he said finally.
My parents waited, tension radiating from their bodies.
"You don't have to pay tax this year," the Collector said with a serious expression, exhaling smoke slowly.
My parents' eyes widened in absolute shock. "What did you say, sir? Why suddenly—" my father was about to ask, his voice trembling with confusion and relief.
But the Collector raised a hand to stop him.
"It's alright... Forget it. Forget everything that has happened," he said, snapping his right hand fingers sharply.
"Forget everything. What do you—?"
As soon as he snapped his fingers, both my parents lost consciousness. Their bodies went limp and started falling.
But my mother, even as she fell, twisted her body so she would land on her back—protecting me from hitting the ground.
How... How dare you, you bastard! I swear I'm going to kill you if something happens to these people! I thought with intense, burning anger. I wanted to scream at him, to demand what he had done, but I couldn't. I was trapped in an infant's body, helpless and frustrated.
But then he started talking again, as if to himself.
"You don't need to worry, child. Your parents aren't dead," he said, staring down at me with an unreadable expression. "I just erased their memories. To be exact, I erased the memories of us being here. This is just a side effect of that ma—"
He stopped mid-sentence and sighed heavily.
"Why the hell am I explaining this to a newborn baby? It's not like he's going to understand anything. He can't even know what's happening around him," he muttered, shaking his head.
Wait, what!? You erased their memories!? But how!? I thought, glaring at him with all the intensity I could muster. Do you think I'm going to believe this bullshit you're spouting?
The Collector seemed to feel my stare again. He shifted uncomfortably.
Seriously, why do I keep feeling like this child wants to kill me very badly? He thought. I should get away from here as soon as possible, or maybe I'll really go insane.
"You two," he ordered his underlings. "Take them inside and lay them on their beds."
"Ah, wait," he stopped them as they moved forward to carry my parents away.
"I don't know if this magic worked on you or not, but I did it on you too," he said suddenly. "It's high-level magic. Not anyone can use it."
He was spouting nonsense now—talking about magic like it was the most normal thing in the world. What is he? A kid? Or has he gone senile? I thought, feeling a strange mix of anger and pity for him.
"I don't know why I keep talking to this child," he muttered, exhaling smoke and looking almost cool as he stood there in front of a newborn baby. "Let's just forget I said anything."
He turned to face me directly, his eyes studying my small form with an intensity that was terrifying and fascinating at the same time.
"Listen, kid," he said quietly. "I have high expectations for you. I don't know why I'm feeling this way, but I have a feeling we might meet again in the future. So... goodbye until then."
With that, he turned his back to me and started walking slowly toward the darkness gathering around the farm.
And then, suddenly, he was gone.
Not walking away. Not riding off on his horse.
Gone.
As if he had turned to ashes and been blown away by the evening wind.
I lay at bed in shock, my mother and father unconscious beside me, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to do anything but think one terrifying thought:
What the hell was that man?
To be continued…