If you could talk to a historical figure, what would you say?

The line I was standing in was very uncharacteristically organised and obedient. It was like a trail of ants patiently waiting for their turn to meet the queen. Not once in my life had I seen a queue like this where no one tried bypassing the person in front. Instead, a few of them even moved behind, paving the way for others to defer their turn. Strange! The eerie silence made the voice at the entrance of the gate echo from all directions.

"You may proceed this way. The guard over there will take care of the rest." The gatekeeper pointed to the first one in the line towards a gate painted golden yellow, making it appear like an entrance to heaven. 

Minutes later, a sudden commotion broke out a few feet away from me, but the man before me obscured my view. I gently tapped on his shoulders to ask him what it was about. 

"Excuse me! Excuse me, gentleman." My index finger stopped midway in the air, and I gasped when he turned to face me. I knew him very well, but I was unsure if he was who I thought he was. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, asking what it was about.

"I...I am sorry. I...si..." I was confused about how I should address him. I have written many letters before to my dear and near ones and also professionally. I knew of all the ways I should address someone respectfully without offending them. But I didn't know what to call this man standing right in front of me. He was of average build, but maybe the way his body fat was dispersed made him look a bit stoic. His brown hair and blue eyes compensated for his masked face. The only odd thing about his face was the millipede-looking moustache that made him look like a fun-loving person, which was exactly the opposite of his original personality.

"What is it, miss?" He asked, and it made me wince in fear. He wasn't definitely speaking English. It was a foreign language I had never heard before, but I could make sense of every word he uttered. I shook my head impassively. My head went blank, and I forced my legs forward as the queue moved. I completely forgot about the commotion that had happened a few minutes ago. I had new questions in my mind now. I had read a lot of books that involved this man standing in front of me. I even had a copy of his autobiography, which I unfortunately could never read before reaching that place. Should I tell him I knew who he was, or should I ask him about his past? My mind was going berserk with questions. But how was I to call him again to get him to notice me? The world feared this man right before me, and I only had to casually tap his shoulders to make him look at me. That felt absurd. I was also worried that he would get offended and decide to punish me. 

But I couldn't have made peace with myself without asking him the one question that I had in my mind. I went near him and cleared my throat so that he would hear me. He turned again, this time more quickly than the last time. 

"I know you have something to ask me. Spit it out." He said, boring into my soul, and I started shaking.

"How did you know?" was all I could manage to get out of my mouth.

"Because everyone seems to have something to question me about. So, it's no wonder." I marvelled at how easily we could understand each other even though we were both taking in our native tongues. He nodded his head, hinting at me to go on.

"How could you...I mean... I hope it's okay to ask. But how could you sleep peacefully after killing millions of people every day?" There, I had it all out in front of him. But he was unshook. He appeared calm and unmoved as if he was devoid of emotions, contrary to my expectations. He sighed and turned back without giving me an answer as expected. I shut my eyes tight, hoping he wouldn't get back at me for what I had asked.

I was the first in the line now, and the gatekeeper asked me a few questions about my past. After I answered him, he evaluated me carefully for a few minutes and waved me off to the other side, asking me to follow my predecessor. I was confused and headed in the direction as I was ordered to. After reaching my destination, the man I was following turned to face me again, making me jerk a few steps behind. 

"You are right. I had done a few questionable things when I lived. I know they were not the best of their ways, but I did what I had to. One day, everyone will understand why I had to do it." He still sounded boastful and unremorseful. "But I think I am here today because of what I did down there." We looked below in unison, ignoring how effortlessly suspended in the air we were.

"So, do you repent your mistakes at least now?" I asked him, but there was no response. I wondered why he still hadn't realised that he was a monster and his crimes were inhumane. But there was only silence that followed before he could speak.

"I, Hitler, can never be wrong. The sooner you understand it, the better for us as we are to live here together. I will soon turn this place according to my wish and only those I feel are deserving will be let to live here." How arrogant can a man ever get? I convinced myself that there was nothing better to come of him and that I should mind my own business. But it was his turn now.

"But, Enough about me now. Why do you think you are here anyway?" He asked coldly, looking at the pass in my hand. I came to my senses all of a sudden as my whole body turned numb. Blood drained from my face, and  I looked at the ticket in my hand, which said, "Banished to Hell, forever." He was the one who had the last laugh.

This is a part of Blogchatter’s #Bloghop

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