Jungle Tales 2.0.4 : Rad -The rude awakening
Chapter 4: Rad — The rude awakening
Sleep-inducing melatonin in the sweet pineapple drink, and the gentle hum of the drone lulled me into a restless slumber. My memories leading up to the day before were crystal clear. I was trekking through the humid jungles of Krabi, Thailand, on vacation. This particular trek proved particularly gruelling compared to normal trek through the jungles. It involved steep limestone climbs and spelunking through cool caves that snaked through the towering formations. The caves supposedly opened onto a secluded beach, with a rappel down the cliff face to reach it. But I never made it that far. I remember the slip and searing pain in the ankle … then nothing.
As I finally regained consciousness , I felt the gentle lapping of the tiny waves on my legs. I tried to open my eyes and they were still heavy.I was sprawled on a river bank, the warm sun already high in the sky. Disoriented, I tried to sit up, a wave of nausea rolling over me.
Then I saw them. A galaxy of curious gazes fixated on me. Monkeys chattered excitedly, their words surprisingly clear. “Is he awake?” one squeaked. “Finally!” another shrieked. A sleek hornbill perched on a nearby rock, its vibrant crest a stark contrast to the azure sky, cooed sympathetically. Even a family of elephants, their wise eyes filled with an unsettling intelligence, lumbered closer, their deep rumbles vibrating through the sand. My heart hammered against my ribs. Had I fallen? How long had I been unconscious? .
Suddenly, a guttural voice broke through the incoherent chatter . A tall, imposing orangutan with a faint smile stood before me.
“Ah !You’re awake!” He announced with obvious relief writ on his face “We were getting worried.”
His voice was deep and unfamiliar, yet strangely calming. “Where am I?” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “How did I get here?” More importantly, how was everyone talking? It was like a bizarre dream, a world where animals spoke perfect English. Was this a concussion-induced hallucination? Or had the knock on my head triggered some latent Dr. Dolittle ability within me?
The orangutan hesitated, “This isn’t your world, is it?” he asked finally,The orangutan seemed to sense my confusion. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Calm yourself,” he said gently. “There’s much to explain, but for now, rest is what you need.”
He gestured towards a group of approaching figures, a mix of creatures unlike any I’d ever seen together..
“These are my companions. They will help you get settled. We can answer your questions later.”
As I allowed them to help me up, the weight of the situation settled heavily upon me. I was stranded on a river bank in a foreign land, surrounded by creatures who could talk, and burdened with a sense of unease about my own arrival. But most importantly, a question burned in my mind: Was I dreaming? Or was this something…more?
I drifted in and out of this dream-like state, Brief memories of being carried into a cool, cavernous space flashed through my mind.Then finally exhaustion claimed me and I fell in to a deep slumber , a thick and heavy dreamless void.
I woke up , this time fully awake .. with the Orangutan sitting by my side his eyes fixed on me.
“Junga,” he introduced himself, his voice a deep rumble “You gave us quite a scare.”
Junga, I discovered, was a revered elder and official adviser to the king ,Vana Varman. He wielded considerable influence in Junglestan as this land was called.. As my strength gradually returned, we fell into conversation. Junga’s interest in me transcended mere curiosity or hospitality. He was genuinely interested in me , my experiences and my ideas. Even in my weakened state, I could sense a subtle undercurrent to his questions, a hint of evaluation for some unknown purpose. In turn, I was consumed by a desire to learn about Junglestan, this hidden society where animals spoke and thrived in the heart of the jungle.
But the question of how I landed here remained. My autodidacticism of sci-fi movies and novels offered no answers here, nor did Junga’s deep knowledge of Junglestan. A time-space portal? A wormhole connecting Thailand and Junglestan? I mentally shoved aside these wild Michael Crichton scenarios. Maybe I just fell into a really convincing movie set. Nah, that Junga with his intelligent demeanour seemed a bit too real for Hollywood.
The day culminated in a plan to visit the royal palace and meet the king the next day. This made sense as I see no prospect of returning home with the limited resources we had. A king in picture seemed to offer more interesting choices… or at least that’s what I hoped.As Junga retreated to his quarters, exhaustion finally took its toll, and I drifted off to sleep for the umpteenth time.
Waking from a short nap after Junga’s story, the line between dream and reality remained hazy. The refreshment, the short sleep, and the fantastical tale blurred the edges of my memory. I stretched myself, suppressing a big yawn. Junga commented, “You were gone there for a clean 15 minutes.”
I stared out the window, Junga’s words sinking deeper into my gut with each passing moment. Apprehension coiled around me, laced with a strange sense of responsibility. Here I was, trying to untangle the situation in my mind. The idyllic Junglestan I’d envisioned was facing a new threat — an autocratic king who cared little for the environment, clinging to power with a death grip. Logic and reason were being tossed aside in favour of a return to animistic beliefs, further tightening King Vana Varman’s control. And lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings, was Husk, the evil tech mogul who aided the king in his nefarious schemes.
An unsettling feeling settled over me. This wasn’t just about finding my way back home. I was somehow entangled in a brewing conflict, and the fate of Junglestan might just rest on my shoulders.
