"Goodbye, kids. We'll meet tomorrow. Next time, I'll properly explain how machines are used in our daily lives… and this time, we'll actually build something too."
"Okay, sir!" Some students responded loudly, while many of them remained silent.
There was a reason for that.
Because, at just 30 years old, Arahan had already been teaching for five years at Astra Imperial Institute of Engineering (AIIE), the No. 1 engineering college in India.
The boys of his age, and even some slightly older, were sitting in his classroom as students.
Naturally, many teachers were jealous of him. While few envied him. And also many girls… openly admired him.
Arahan enjoyed the envious and jealous gazes of others, but he always maintained his distance from these.
He was a simple, disciplined man.
He was an orphan, not knew, who his parents were. And during his school days, that became a weapon against him.
Many children would mock him, "Arahan, if you want to talk to me, first go and drink your mother's milk."
While the other one will reply, "Oh wait… you don't even have a mother."
And they will start laughing together.
"Orphan! Orphan!" They shout at him.
In the beginning, it affected him, but later he started ignoring them all.
Instead of reacting, instead of fighting, he buried himself in his studies.
And through his studies, he made them quiet. At just 25 years old, he became a professor at Astra Imperial Institute of Engineering with a salary of ₹2 lakh per month.
With this, respect, status, money, everything came together for him.
Even his wedding had been fixed with the Dean's daughter.
In just a few days, it was his wedding.
As part of the wedding, he was even going to receive a Lamborghini in dowry.
Although he denied it, Dean forcefully gave him, because for the Dean, if he will not give it. Society would talk about it.
After all, reputation still mattered.
Lost in these thoughts, Arahan started his scooty. He did own a Bullet motorcycle. But he didn't believe in showing off.
Every day, he went to college and returned home on his scooty.
He drove forward slowly, humming to himself, "Life is a beautiful journey… who knows what tomorrow holds…"
But suddenly, horny sound came towards him.
PIPIPIPIPIPIIII—
Before Arahan could even process what was happening, a black Porsche came speeding from the wrong side of the road. Its speed was over 200 km/h.
BAM.
It crashed, and Arahan's body was thrown onto the road. His scooty lay far away. He couldn't move, his blood started spreading beneath him.
Arahan understood he wasn't going to survive, so he started cursing God.
"Why God…? Why did this happen to me?"
"I never drank."
"I never lived recklessly."
"I never did anything wrong."
"I never even touched a girl."
"I… I never even had sex."
"I was still a virgin."
"My wedding was just days away…"
"Why did this happen to me God? Whyyyyyy?"
After cursing, he turned his head to look towards the culprit.
The boy who had crashed into him stepped out of the Porsche. He was a young minor boy, completely drunk.
Arahan looked at his face carefully to etch his face in his mind. But on the boy's face, there was not even a little bit of panic, not even a little bit of fear. Not even guilt.
He has just a mild irritation.
Seeing that Arahan understood, he was the rich guy; for that boy, his life didn't matter to him.
He also understood why his life mattered to him, after all, this is India. Just his father will throw some money, and the case is closed.
In India it is common, if a rich man kills someone, nothing will happen. At worst, he writes an apology essay.
But if a poor man sits on the wrong footpath and tries to sell fruits or vegetables without a permit, the police treat him like a criminal.
In India, money decides justice. Power decides truth. As these thoughts ran through his fading consciousness, Arahan's eyes slowly closed.
And darkness swallowed him.
---
Arahan suddenly woke up, muttering, "What a terrible dream… In that dream, the messengers of death were dragging me to hell."
Just then, someone tapped him from behind.
When he turned around, he saw a terrifying dark figure, a huge black being with horns on his head.
"Good Lord! What are you?" Arahan shouted in fear.
"We are Yamdoot!" the demon-like figure said.
"Where am I? Am I still dreaming?" Arahan asked nervously.
"No, child. You were not dreaming. We are in Yamlok," a voice from the front responded while driving something.
Only then did Arahan notice he was sitting in something like a chariot.
It looked ancient, but its handles were shaped like ox horns.
"You just dropped dead a short while ago. The Porsche crushed you. Go back to your flashback if you want," the first demon-like figure said.
Hearing that, Arahan began screaming, "Mom! They killed me! They killed me!"
But the Yamdoot ignored him, while the chariot moved forward and passed through a massive gate.
On the other side, the ground was completely made of fire. Huge iron cauldrons were placed everywhere.
Around each cauldron stood terrifying demon-like beings. Inside every cauldron, a human was being boiled alive.
Seeing this, Arahan shouted.
"Stop! Stop! Stop! Brake! Brake! Stop the vehicle!"
The chariot halted.
Arahan pointed to one side.
There, he saw a man wearing heavy gold jewelry, clearly very rich.
But his hands and legs were tightly bound to a thick wooden beam, his body hanging helplessly as two demon-like beings dragged the wooden frame forward across the burning ground.
From behind, another demon lashed him repeatedly with a whip, each strike echoing through the fiery landscape.
The man screamed in agony as sparks and flames rose around him.
On the other side, he saw a man wearing torn clothes, looking like a beggar. Yet he was being carried in a golden palanquin.
Four handsome-looking celestial beings carried the palanquin on their shoulders.
Two beautiful women danced gracefully in front of him.
Arahan frowned, "That man looks very rich… and the other looks like a beggar, poor and broken."
"Why is the rich man being tortured, and the poor one being carried with honor? Why this injustice?"
The first demon-like figure replied, "He may have been rich, but he was sinful. He never did good deeds. That is why he is going to hell.
"And that beggar, even though poor, helped others and earned great merit. That is why he is going to heaven," The driver added.
"In our world, sins and good deeds are counted. Not money, gold, or silver."
Hearing this, Arahan burst into loud laughter, "Hahahahaha… When will the people on Earth understand such simple logic? They wag their tails behind money like dogs. Let them come here… let them come… Hell must be ninety percent housefull."
---
The chariot began moving forward again.
But after a short distance, Arahan suddenly shouted again, "Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop this airplane!"
The vehicle halted abruptly.
In front of him, countless floating screens appeared in the air, glowing with strange energy.
Arahan stared at them in confusion, "Why are there so many screens up there? Is this your world's multiplex?"
One of the demon-like beings replied calmly, "This is not a multiplex. It is the Yamometer."
"Oh?"
"Every good and bad deed committed by humans is displayed here. If you wish, you may see it yourself."
Arahan nodded slightly, then pointed toward a few figures visible on the screens, "They look like they're in a critical condition… as if they're fighting death. Who are they?"
"They are undergoing the evaluation of their karma," the first demon explained. "Their good and bad deeds are being measured."
On one of the screens, Arahan noticed two tall pillars, one glowing green and the other burning red.
"What are those pillars?"
"The green pillar represents merit (punya). The red pillar represents sin (paap)."
"If a person's merit outweighs their sins and they wish to continue living on Earth," the first demon began.
The driver interrupted with a dry tone, "—then they must accumulate good deeds."
"And if their sins are greater, they cannot return."
Arahan lightly tapped the demon's round belly like a drum and said jokingly, "Then show mine too. At least divide it into four small parts."
The demon laughed, "Heh heh… Your ticket has already been cut. Yamometer, display this traveler's Karmometer."
As the demon grabbed Arahan's hand and placed it against the glowing screen, suddenly, a violent shock exploded outward.
The demon was blasted backward as if struck by lightning.
At the same time, every screen flickered violently and went dark. The entire Yamometer shut down.
Arahan frowned. "What happened? Why did you get shocked?"
The demon's face had turned pale. Even the driver was trembling now. Both of them stared at Arahan with visible fear.
The driver muttered under his breath, "This… this looks like a serious mistake."
Just then, a massive bell rang.
DONGGGGG—
The sound echoed through the entire realm.
"Why is that bell ringing?" Arahan asked.
The driver replied, while the chariot moved forward again, "We are landing in Narak."
Soon, the scene before Arahan looked like a kingdom ruled by a powerful emperor.
Demon-like beings stood everywhere. In the center rose a grand staircase.
At the top of the steps, a magnificent throne was placed.
And seated upon it, was a crowned figure.
"Glory to Yamraj! Glory to Yamraj!" All the Yamdoots shouted in unison.
Yamraj adjusted himself proudly on his throne and said in a dramatic tone, "Hahaha… Look at me, how dashing I am!"
Then he turned his gaze toward Chitragupta, "Chitragupta."
"Yes, Lord," Chitragupta replied respectfully.
"You have done enough timepass. Let's begin the work," Yamraj said.