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Journey Of Hell | CH:22 (Tamisra, The Hell of Darkness)

The world did not just dissolve. It was violently extinguished. The sight of the swirling black vortex, the sounds of true damnation, the magnificent terror of Yamraj on his throne—all of it vanished in an instant. I was plunged into a blackness so absolute, so complete, that it felt solid.

This was not the absence of light. This was an active, aggressive darkness. It had weight, pressing in on my soul-body from every direction. It had a texture, thick and oily. It filled my mouth, my ears, my very consciousness, silencing thought and replacing it with a primal, suffocating panic.

I was in Tamisra, the first of the Narakas. The Hell of Darkness.

“This punishment is for thieves,” a voice hissed, not from a Yamdut beside me, but from the darkness itself. It was a chorus of voices, all speaking at once. “For those who take what is not theirs.”

I was hanging by the searing rope that was still around my neck, suspended in this crushing void. I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel things. Things slithering against my spiritual skin. Things with many legs skittering across my back.

Things with sharp teeth that would bite and tear, the pain a sudden, sharp explosion in the unending blackness.

I screamed, but the darkness swallowed the sound. My terror had no echo here.

Then, the beatings began. The Yamduts were here with me in the void. I couldn’t see them, which made it worse. A club would smash into my ribs from the left. A fist would slam into my face from the right. They would swing me by the rope, crashing my body against unseen walls of jagged stone. The pain was constant, unpredictable, and inescapable.

Crash. The impact jars my soul, and a memory, sharp and vivid, explodes in my mind. I am Dimple. I am in my office. A junior colleague has just pitched a brilliant idea in a meeting. I see the flicker of pride in her eyes. Later that day, I present the same idea to my boss as my own. I take the credit. I take her promotion. I have stolen her future.

Crash. The pain again. Another memory. I am Maya. My best friend is telling me a secret, her voice trembling. A deep, personal vulnerability she is trusting me with.

The next day, at lunch with my other friends, I offer up her secret as a juicy piece of gossip. It gets me attention. It makes me feel important. I have stolen her trust.

Crash. Another memory, this one the most painful of all. I am Dimple. I am looking at Rohan, my husband, as he sleeps. His face is peaceful. I am filled with a cold, righteous anger. He had an affair with Priya. He stole a part of our marriage. And I… I had my affair with Sameer. I stole a part of our marriage, too. We were both thieves, stealing pieces of each other, leaving behind a hollowed-out shell that we presented to the world as a home.

In the crushing darkness of Tamisra, I understood. Theft was not just about money or objects. You can steal a person’s idea. You can steal their trust. You can steal their peace of mind. You can steal their spouse’s affection. Every time we take something that does not belong to us, we create a debt. And here, in this place of endless, sightless beating, I was paying it back.

I was hungry. I was thirsty. But in the blackness, there was nothing.

No food, no water, only the constant, random violence and the slithering touch of unseen things. My soul cried out for an end, for just a sliver of light, but there was none. There was only the darkness. And the pain. And the crushing, absolute truth of my own crimes.

Index of: Journey Of Hell: The Unforgotten Promise

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