The Secret of Dalapathite Man🔊

In the tiny village of Mireu nestled amongst the towering Himalayas in India resided a man of remarkable reputation, Ravan Dalapathite. He was distinguished and feared, respected and decried; he was everything and nothing. Tales of his ageless wisdom and his secret, supernatural prowess circulated the town, escalating curiosity and anxiety among his folk.

For as long as anyone could remember, Ravan had existed. He had seen countless generations, their births and deaths. No one precisely knew his age, but ancient photographs and murals depicted his unchanged appearance. He was rumored to have an ancient amulet, tied securely around his neck, said to possess powers of eternal life.

One day, Manav, a curious young boy of twelve, decided to unravel the truth. Adventures pulsated in his heart, and the mystery of Ravan inflamed it. Armed with his curiosity, he began his journey to the impossible.

His first encounter with Ravan was bewildering. The elderly man seemed ordinary, with the wrinkles of wisdom and the softness of time etched on his face. But his eyes held a strange gleam, a reflection of ages, a profundity that was inexplicable.

Days turned to weeks, and slowly Manav was drawn into Ravan’s world of strange folklores, tales of Gods and demons, historical accounts of wars and peace, and insights far beyond his comprehension. Yet, the mystery of Ravan’s immortality remained unspoken, carefully hidden behind his cryptic smile.

One moonlit night, after an enchanting tale of God and mortality, Manav finally built enough courage to ask. 'Ravan sir, how do you possess knowledge that dates back to ages unknown, how can you recall events that occurred before you were even born,' he softly asked, carefully observing Ravan’s reaction.

There was a pause that stretched into a minute and then another. The gleam in the old man’s eyes intensified. The magnitude of histories and millennia, the weight of time itself, and something else. Recognition. Acceptance. And perhaps a tinge of relief.

Ravan exhaled and gestured to the boy to follow him. They walked up to his modest adobe and into his dimly lit room, the fragrance of ancient books filled the air. In a display case, encased in glass, lay the object of Manav’s curiosity - the Amulet of Kodh, the supposed source of Ravan's ageless life.

Ravan smiled at the astonished boy, placing a hand onto the glass case, 'It's not the amulet, Manav. Not its magic.' He glanced down at the amulet. 'It's the stories.' He looked back at the boy. 'The stories that this amulet has seen, the histories it has witnessed, and the stories it tells. Those are eternal; I am merely a custodian. My longevity is the summation of narratives inherited from those before me, an oral tradition passed down the generations. I possess an undying memory that records, retains, and recalls. I am as mortal as you or any man.'

Manav was silent, absorbing the truth. The journey he had begun, seeking answers to a supernatural mystery, had led him to a revelation far more potent than he imagined. The vitality of Ravan was not corporeal but in his ability to keep the stories, histories, and wisdom of ages alive.

Time passed, and Manav found himself ensnared in the magic of narratives, the secret to Ravan's endless existence. Understanding that stories held the key to immortality, he decided to become the next custodian of these timeless tales. His journey wasn’t of exposing an old man’s secret. Instead, he became a part of it, continuing a tradition that held the power of deathless existence in the realm of stories.