Rimon's hands were still trembling as he clutched his grandfather's diary. That strange sentence, written in red ink, seemed etched into his brain: "When the mist speaks, do not listen with a smile. For in Himpur, time stands still, and the past never truly dies." Rimon quickly flipped through more pages. The dust-covered leaves were filled with frantic scribbles, but a few lines caught his eye:
...Saw Neelu again today. By the old banyan tree near the pond. She looked... different. Her eyes were hollow. Someone was with her... a long shadow. Distinct, even through the thick mist...
...Rina came by today. She said some village boys last saw Neelu by the pond on that foggy morning. She's been missing ever since. Her mother has nearly lost her mind...
...I can't tell if I'm actually seeing this or if old age is playing tricks on my mind. The mist seems to have wrapped everything in an illusion...
As he turned the pages, an old, faded photograph slipped out. In the blurred image, he, Neelu, and Rina stood side-by-side, smiling. It was taken ten years ago, just days before Neelu disappeared. In the photo, Neelu had her familiar smile and lively eyes. But the figure he had seen by the pond moments ago had no smile. Those eyes were lifeless.
Rimon stared at the photo, deep in thought. Was what he saw really just an illusion? Had Neelu truly returned? But how could the child Neelu from ten years ago still look exactly the same today? His grandfather's words echoed in his head— "In Himpur, time stands still."
Just then, there was a soft knock at the door. Rimon startled. Who would even recognize him in this village? He walked slowly toward the door and opened it to find an elderly man standing there, wearing a lungi and a thick shawl. Anxiety was written all over his face.
"Rimon, son? You've finally arrived?" The man tried to smile, but his eyes betrayed a sense of dread. "I'm Fotik. Your grandfather's oldest friend. You've come back after many years, son."
Seeing the diary in Rimon's hand as he stepped inside, Uncle Fotik remarked, "Your grandfather spent his final days obsessed with that diary. He used to say all the answers were hidden inside it. I could never quite make sense of his talk."
"Uncle, I saw Neelu by the pond this morning," Rimon whispered.
The smile instantly vanished from Fotik's face, replaced by a visible shadow of fear. "Neelu? Who did you see, son? She's been gone for many years."
"No, Uncle! I saw her clearly. She... she looks exactly the same! It's as if time hasn't touched her at all," Rimon said firmly.
Uncle Fotik let out a long sigh. "Listen, son, the mist of Himpur is very deceptive. Not everything it shows you is the truth. Why don't you go to your grandfather's old bedroom? There are some photos there. They might be of use to you."
Rimon sensed that Uncle Fotik was hiding something. Without another word, he headed toward his grandfather's room, realizing that Fotik's words were just as shrouded in mystery as the village mist itself.