In My Past Life

This image is really mysterious. Try to figure out why, before you read further.

Gopal Kumar Yadav aka Gopi has got an envious potbelly. And he didn’t grow it overnight. In fact he has achieved it. Fifteen years of monotonous work has earned him a made to order wife from some village of Bihar, a ten year old DPS kid and a 2 BHK flat at Maharani Bagh of New Delhi.

Today he is going to fulfill his long protected dream. He is going to own a 1 BHK flat at New Friends Colony. NFC is not more than 15 minutes of walk from Maharani Bagh. But it took him 15 years to reach there.

“Good Morning Sir. You must be Mr. Yadav? I am Kamal Kumar.” A gentleman in shiny brown leather shoes greeted him. By looking at his tie and shoes, anyone could tell that he was some kind of salesman.

“Good Morning. This place…” The place seemed vaguely familiar to Gopi. It was for sure that he has not visited that compound ever. But there was something familiar about the compound, the streets, the buildings and even the parking.

“Not to worry about the place sir jee. We are giving you the best deal sir jee. Mata Ka Mandir is just five minutes of walk from here. Community Centre is hardly 10 minutes of walk from here. ” He could have continued to measure the distances in units of minutes, had Gopi not interrupted him.

“When was this apartment built?”

“Some 10 years ago sir jee. I am in this business for 15 years now.”

“There’s lift, this way?”

“Yes! Have you been here before sir jee?”

“No. Never” 

More than Kamal, he himself was surprised by his own knowledge and memory, which seemed to defy his senses. How could he know such details about a place, he has never been to. He tried to recollect all the memory that lay dormant in some part of his skull. Any relative living in this colony was out of question. Moreover, none of his relatives were rich enough to own a flat at that place. Has he been here in some marriage function of a colleague?

“See. This is your mansion sir jee. And this is your huge hall…”

“We have a kitchen this side. And a balcony to the left…”

“Sir jee, you have come here before. Now I am sure.”

“No. I haven’t. Even I am surprised. May be my past life connection.”

“Sir jee. This is your bedroom. And the kitchen is to that side.”

“There must be a shaft besides the kitchen.”

“Yes sir jee.”

“Oh! This beam. This is the beam. How is this behaving in shear?”

“What? Sir jee” Kamal was puzzled to hell.

Now Gopi remembered everything, every minute detail of the building. Every beam, every slab panel, every column and every foundation below the columns; including that erratic beam which simply would not pass in shear…this was the building he had designed…some 11 years ago.