You can still hear the screams echoing in the destroyed ruins in the Indus River Valley. Mist covered the high top of the Stuppa as archeologist, Gregory Rante paced the floor of the old temple. He brushed the dust off of a ledge into the still, musty, air and he began to cough violently. He closed his eyes and stumbled around and eventually tripped over a small item. He grabbed the item and realized it was a small sculpture of a man, his solemn face and vicious eyes pierced into soul. The rough surface of the sculpture slit Gregory’s hand and the blood began to run down the tiny man’s figure. A scream, the type of scream that wakes the dead, shrill and terrifying like the apocalypse filled the temple. Gregory absolutely shocked by this point looked for an exit but before he could get to the hollow opening a small figure of a child appeared before him. His narrow face and black eyes relentless. He could not have been more than 9 years old. He grabbed Gregory by the bloody hand, his grip firm and cold and dragged him to a higher level. Another shriek as they climbed higher up a narrow stairway. Gregory pulled away from the young boy and his grip tightened, his eyes coldly staring up the stairs. The boy looked at Gregory and released him when they reached the top level and before the two boys was a woman.
She stood tall and with a sense of dignity that one could not describe. Her black curly hair blowing in the cold morning winds. The young boy prostrated before the woman and before Gregory knew what was happening the boy pulled him to the floor as well. Then it all went black. He woke up with that same woman, hovering over him but they were in a different area. There was a pool of water, pristine and beautiful of everyway but it was not what you call a swimming pool but a reflection pool. A gentle smile came across her face as she wiped the dried blood off of his hand and began to tend his wound. In her deep, mellow voice she began “our people were flourishing, our crops high and our water flowing, and then it all went wrong…” Her eyes filled with a glimmer of a tear as she continued, “My son, my only son died in the tragedy that destroyed us all, the flood.” She said “The flood wiped out all of us every person killed by its raging waters, I watched them drown, I saw them suffer, and yet I lived” Her face was dripping with tear as she continued “And now I live, I live forever, I live with this burden of life on my shoulders, I tell the tale of the reflection pool, for it lies in the pool, life began and life ended there.” The woman, who was surprising strong, lead Gregory to the pool. “Look into the water” she ordered. His eyes shifted nervously over to the dark walls and back to her face “Look now!” she demanded and forced his face to look into the pristine water. He saw the people drowning and screaming with shear terror and the woman standing on a cliff watching, holding the little statue of the man. He saw everything collapse with the water flow and he saw her break down and weep.
He looked back up, gasping for the air that he long missed. The woman shivered and said “the statue I held was one of my past husband who died in the flood. He was the head of our village and a find man, but he upset the Gods.” She continued “He destroyed our people. The storms came, he told me to flee and to never forget our story but told no one else to leave. The floods came and killed off our people including my only son” The agonizing pain showed on her pail face “ and now I live forever in this temple where I hid…. I shall never be reunited with my family…. My husband told me to flee so that I could bear the pain that he brought upon our people” Her face was flushed from crying and Gregory was shaking violently. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. He saw the reflection pool, he saw the woman and before he knew what happened she jumped in wit a blood curdling scream. The clear waters turned black as the pulled her into the dark abyss Gregory could not understand. The sun shined in and all was back to normal, but Gregory could never forget the scream.