Catalyst !!

***

He closed his eyes and all the white turned black. Bright yellow light above his face slowly turned blackness into shade of crimson. His eyelids lit. He had been here so many times that just by sound of it he could know what was happening around. Slow movement of wheeled table, sticking sound of rubber gloves, clicking sound of cuffs and locking sound door knob, all indicated that it was time. He heard the sound of the switch and concentrated on the hum of electricity. He could hear tiny mechanical parts coming to life. A hand touched his temple and left with cold sticky wax. A smooth but hard metal plate was fixed on the wax. It was like wearing a headphone but with no music playing. And then with another switch his body jerked. He could hear screams but was not sure that it was his own. It felt like a wave passing through his brain, pulsing high and low at the same time. He could feel his body dissolve in liquid and just the brain floating in air and he started counting the pulses…1…2…3…and again…1…2…3…

***

The two were left alone. It was 7 minutes after midnight. Balloons, filled and burst, were scattered all over the place. Disposable plates and glasses left here and there. Half eaten cake and open soda cans visible around spaces. Small pieces of glitters and sparkles scattered throughout the floor like it had rained from the fan. Smell of cheese filled the air. Little, one year old, Avantika was sleeping peacefully in her small hanging bed in room. Neha turned to her side on the sofa facing Manoj. He was still facing the ceiling, his eyes closed. ‘It was exhausting’ she said. ‘We don’t know these people.’ Manoj said without moving. ‘It was your idea anyway’ He added. ‘We need friends’ she said and placed her head on his shoulders.

Manoj have never liked parties. He thought parties were only for people who like to show off. It’s been few months Manoj and Neha moved to Pune with their newborn. Manoj’s job at bank had not given him much opportunity to settle down at one place. But now with a child to take care, this moving business has become a burden. Apart from few from the bank, they didn’t know anyone and their daughter’s birthday gave them a chance to invite few neighbors. To their surprise they all turned up. ‘Isn’t it weird?’ Manoj said opening his eyes. ‘I mean, someone turns up to your door and invites for a party and you without knowing them, attend it like a relative’s marriage’

‘They all need friends I guess’ Neha doubted her own statement. ‘Let’s open the gifts’ she stood up in excitement and started towards the table which was full of boxes wrapped with glittering paper. Before she could reach, Manoj shouted, ‘No… We can’t just open them inside the house’

His words echoed into silence of the night. Neha turned to him, surprised, ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t you know the story about gifts?’ Manoj threw a look towards the pile of gift boxes and turned his gaze back to his wife. She turned back to look at the table and walked back towards the sofa.

‘It was few years back when I heard about this. In another party, when they started opening the gifts, one of the gifts appeared which they were not sure was from a person who was invited. They started opening it. In the box there was nice dress. But as soon as they opened the dress further their eyes went wide. The box felt from their hand. All they could see was a lemon poked with iron nails, a black handmade doll, few pieces of bones, and a white flower garland all covered in red color. And few days after his wife died of unknown reasons and his son was admitted in hospital. Doctors couldn’t even identify his illness’

Manoj looked back to Neha. His eyes still terrified. Neha couldn’t understand whether to get scared or to laugh. She was not one who believes in ghosts and black magic superstitions. ‘Stop all this nonsense Manoj’ She said. ‘You said you heard it right? That can be a lie too’ 

Who was telling the story? And whose story was it anyway? 
The words fluttered and flew in the wind.

Neha was not in the mood to ask these questions anyway. Leaving Manoj in the hall, Neha went to the bedroom. She was tired. Manoj sat there staring the gift boxes.

***

Two decades back…Kamal sat on black metal chair facing pale white wall of the hospital. ‘Who could have done this?’ Kamal asked mostly to himself, clearly devastated on the turn of events. A shopkeeper from profession, Kamal could not think of anyone who could have hated him so much to hurt him. As a shopkeeper, his business depended on the relations whom he maintained and in any case he could not have compromised with his business. Dr. Bijlani, also his closest friend could not answer. What he could do was, keep his hands on Kamal’s shoulder and say, ‘everything will be alright. World is full of psychopaths’

Kamal drove home. His son Minku sat in the back seat of the car holding the pot of ash. His mother was dead. The priest of the cremation ground had asked them to perform few rituals at home before taking it to Kshipra River. In the mirror he looked at his son sitting at the back seat of the car and a drop of tear appeared into his eyes which he brushed off.

***

Few days back his was a happy family. It was tenth anniversary of Kamal and his wife Sudha, when it all started. When all the guests had left, behind them they left hall room full of flowers and gifts for the couple. As soon as they were alone Minku started galloping around the gift boxes, pleading with his cat like eyes to open them. Amused with their son’s enthusiasm they started opening the gift boxes, starting from prettiest wrapper. Sudha picked up the box which didn’t have any name on it. Secret admirer or forgetful fool? She started opening the small but elegant looking box wrapped in golden paper. A red band beautifully turned into some unknown flower. She took away the lid and her eyes widened by the sight of what was inside it. A hand written note appeared on top of it. Sudha took out the note, while both Kamal and Minku looked at her in disbelieving expression. It said, ‘I have returned’. Just by reading it Sudha had a shock. She was unconscious for hours before Dr. Bijlani had asked Kamal to admit her in hospital. Dr. Bijlani knew about the abortion which Sudha had gone under. It was immediately after their marriage and both Kamal and Sudha were not ready for a child yet. Though Sudha was reluctant at first but she herself was not sure that she was ready for motherhood. Dr. Bijlani had told them it was a normal procedure and since she was in just 6 weeks of pregnancy, there was no danger of any kind at all.

The guilt remained till their son was born after 3 years and soon they all forgot about it until this very event. Other things with the note were enough for Sudha to believe. The small handmade doll, in the box, covered in vermillion, became her dead daughter. Kamal was devastated. He had always thought something of this kind can never happen to him. He would have laughed if Sudha had not reacted the way she did. He had thrown away the lemon, bones and garland into Kshipra River but he was not able to throw the black doll, which Sudha thought was her dead daughter.

Sudha was not responding to any treatment. Dr. Bijlani soon realized that the guilt of killing her own child was so strong that it was almost impossible for her to fully recover. He advised Kamal to take her home and bring her to hospital only for the sessions which were prescribed by the psychiatrist.       

Soon the house turned into a nightmare. Kamal’s seven year old son, unknowingly, became part of it. Sudha started preparing breakfasts and lunches for 4 instead of 3. On dining table there would always be an extra plate with food and the doll would be kept on the chair. Kamal had tried stopping her but the screams and wailing of Sudha was unbearable. He started playing along and made his son play along too. He was OK as long as everything was normal. But soon he started seeing changes in his son.

And then one day, he saw his son talk to himself. ‘I am talking to my sister’ Minku explained and his mother smiled. Kamal lost it all. He took the black doll and threw it away. Sudha kept screaming whole night. His son kept crying for his mother and his sister. ‘I want to go to her’ Sudha kept shouting the whole way while they took her to hospital in the morning.

After two days Dr. Bijlani walked to Kamal with the news. ‘Her heart had stopped working. We have kept her on ventilator but biologically she is dead’ Dr. Bijlani said with sympathy. Kamal knew that this was coming. He cursed himself for celebrating his anniversary and cursed the person who did this to his family. He will never be happy.

***

Back home, he took the pot of ash from his son and put it on the dining table. ‘Are you hungry?’ He asked his son and he nodded in yes. Kamal took out a plate and gave him the leftovers from the night before. His son looked into the plate for few seconds and said, ‘for mom and sister?’ Kamal losing his mind, slapped him as hard as he could. A heart trembling wail broke out of his throat and all became silent.

‘He is in shock’ Dr. Bijlani told Kamal in the hospital while Minku slept in the ward. ‘I am afraid, in his innocence he had believed that both his mother and sister are not dead’ He continued, ‘We need to make him believe otherwise and make him understand the facts. This might be a long process and may require multiple psychiatric sessions. For now just play along’ Kamal wept on himself. ‘What is my fault? What have I done to anyone to go through this pain?’ he cried while all Dr. Bijlani could say was, ‘everything will be ok’.

Nothing turned back to OK. On the outer side it all looked normal but Kamal could hear his son talking behind the closed room. He had stopped asking for extra plates but he also started leaving his food uneaten. Kamal doubted that the leftovers were for his sister or his mother. Seeing no improvement at all, Dr. Bijlani suggested Kamal to take him to Mumbai for better opinion and better treatment, though he had already consulted with bests he had known. Kamal liked the idea, also because Sudha’s parents were living in Mumbai and this would be an opportunity for both of them to get some change from this terrible situation.

Doctors in Shivaji Memorial were not so friendly and the dean of the medical institute immediately suggest for shock treatment before it gets too late. Kamal shivered just by the thought of his little kid going under the shock treatment. He tried to pursue them. Called Dr. Bijlani back in Ujjain but it turned he was too reluctant to suggest the same and that might be the best way forward.

That night when Kamal heard his son talking to his mother, saying ‘I want to be with you’ he decided there was no other way. With support from his in-laws he signed the application form, approving the best treatment suggested by the doctors.

Kamal left for Ujjain. Medical expenses nearly broke him and he could not afford to sit home any longer. Shop must not be closed for long. Sudha’s parents, Sudha being their only child, were more than happy to keep their grandson with them.

Days started passing. With improvements, number of sessions decreased from week to month and then eventually to none. Kamal visited Mumbai every month and saw his son doing better not just in personal front but in studies and sports. ‘Bringing away from Ujjain must be best thing I might have done to him’ Kamal thought.

Soon it all became a distant memory. There were no more treatments and no more sessions. By the time he graduated, he was no different than any other student. In fact his brilliance in academic and sports made him better than most of the students.  When he joined a reputed bank as an assistant manager after completing his MBA, his grandparents were dead, only one remained to share the news was his father. After few months his father died of cardiac arrest. Dr. Bijlani said he didn’t suffer much. Minku remembered the last talk he had had with him before his father died, ‘I am very proud of you, Manoj’ He had said.

***

Neha woke up to the ringing phone and found front door of the house to be open. She could not find Manoj anywhere. As she picked up the phone, she realized there were no gift boxes on the table. ‘Hello’ she said on the phone.

‘Neha, look outside’ said a neighbor’s voice from other side of the receiver.

Neha walked out of the front door and phone fell from her hand. Manoj was sitting across the road opening gift boxes desperately. Shining wrappers were scattered all over street and torn boxes and the gifts inside them, were thrown here and there. A chill ran through her nerves and she ran towards Manoj. He looked up as if he didn’t recognize her. ‘Did you see my Sister?’ he asked her in his innocence and started removing wrapper from another box.

Few neighbors came to help Neha. They took Manoj back to the house while he kept asking for her sister. Neha took him to the room and locked it from outside. Manoj kept screaming and shouting to let him out to search for his sister.

‘Hello…Dr. Bijlani?’ Neha spoke on the phone. She knew, only person left who was related to Manoj’s family, was Dr. Bijlani in Ujjain.

Dr. Bijlani and Neha stood outside operating room of Shivaji Memorial hospital, watching from the glass window. A team of doctors were busy preparing electric machine, calibrating its intensity, while Manoj lay on the stretcher, lights burning just above his face. They put the electric cord across his temple and with a jerk his whole body started shaking. She could not hear his screams but could see the rubber log stuck between his teeth shudder like a railway track when the train passes through it. Thick viscous saliva drenched his face and neck. Hands were tightly clenched in fists and legs were stroking the cuffs around it in a rhythm as if counting…1…2…3…and again…1…2…3… 

***

An old friend

‘They are fighting again’ my mother parked herself on the chair and started increasing the sound of television. ‘A person can’t even watch tv in peace’ she had said to no one in particular. I ran outside to the increasing voice of people all shouting at the same time. There were cuss words which I did not understand at that time. I could see too many people around. Few near them and rest all placing themselves at their convenience. It was like a television show which my Mother was trying to watch; only this one was live.

They lived across my house. A two floor blue colored old building. A divided family of two brothers. I have never seen it but they say there is a straight wall across the whole house separating them. I wondered why they keep fighting when they don’t have to deal with each other anymore. How naïve it was of me. I parked myself on the small boundary wall of my house and watched him. He was there, sitting on the stairs while his family screamed at each other. And then something different happened. His father ran towards his mother and all went silent apart from cuss words and ‘it’s all because of you’. There was no sound of kicks and punches, but only slaps, how wrong they show it in the movies I thought.

His mother cried and was trying unsuccessfully to protect herself from the blows, her nose was already bleeding I think it was broke but I was not sure. While pulling her hair and taking her out on the road, his father tripped on a brick and fell. She grabbed this chance and picked the little girl, Shekhar’s step sister and ran. Passing all the onlookers, in few seconds she vanished. This was the last time I ever saw her. She never came back, if she did, I was not aware of it.

It all went calm. My mother reduced the volume of the tv. All the viewers were gone. The show was over. I came back into the house and looked out from the window, he was still sitting there. And then he glanced at me, straight into my eyes. I can never forget those eyes, shining in the dim street light. He was not crying, in fact he was smiling, or may be its just me creeping out I thought. I shut the window and watched my mother to feel safe. What I did not notice was the drop of sweat crossing behind my ears. I was scared to hell.

From that day I tried not to look at him. I felt he has always been watching me. Whenever I crossed his house or sat near the window or played in the balcony he was always there, sitting on the same place, fanning away flies from his father’s wounds. I don’t know what was wrong with his father. My mother said he was suffering from severe illness. She said it was God’s punishment for killing his first wife, shekhar’s mother. For a long time I thought it was true but later I came to know that she was not well for long and lack of proper treatment killed her and it was not a sudden death, she was bed ridden for almost an year before she died. Everyone blamed his father. Real murderer was poverty or may be his father was the murderer since he did not do anything to save her or get her treated. I had seen him sometime selling baked groundnuts but that was only once or twice.

One day I returned from the school and he was not there. Though from the corner of my eyes I used to see him staring at me but today I turned my head to search for him. He was nowhere to be found. I sat near the window for almost a week but he was never there. His father was still there I could see him lying there on a charpoy wailing, moaning of pain, cursing his fate and what not. His brother from the divided house sometime left a plate of rice and water for him to eat. He ate like an animal. I covered my mouth every time I see him eating. And one day he also vanished like his son. My mother said he was dead but I saw no one. I never thought death would be so silent. None talked about him or his son or his wife or the little girl. Whole family was disappeared as if it never existed.

After few years I completed my twelfth and was sent to Mumbai for further studies. My father said, ‘don’t get lost in the city, for holidays come home to visit’. I complied. Twice a year end of every semester I came home. Best thing about a small town is that nothing really ever changes. Hair grows grey, belly gets fatter and that is that, houses are same as they were ten years ago, roads in same pathetic conditions, electricity always forcing you to sleep sweaty and struggling with rise of temperature, I could see the pile of garbage at the same place accumulating, which I used to see ten years back. Nothing changes in a small town, not even habits. I sat near the window and looked at the empty stairs of Shekhar’s house.  It was no more his house. His uncle has broken the wall and it was one house now. Sometimes a dead family can be a reward for someone.

It was the vacation after fifth semester. I was at home watching tv when there was a knock on the door. Windblown hair, thin athletic physic, shiny brown eyes, extensively shaved cheeks and dusky skin color I knew who he was. He had grown in a fine young lad and I could compare him with many of my friends in collage. He wore a plane blue shirt with black trousers as if a sales representative of a motor company. He smelled of some aftershave which I could not recognize.

‘Shekhar?’ came out of my mouth and a twinkle from his eyes. He smiled, ear to ear, a full smile of a genuine happiness.

‘I thought I would have to introduce myself’ he said.

He handed me a fancy envelop and waited. It was a marriage invitation card. ‘Anu’ I read. His name was nowhere to be found. I looked at his eyes, they were still smiling. ‘My sister is getting married’. His step-sister he meant. The little girl of his step mother. I tried to hide my surprise. I wanted to know the story but there was no courage to ask. He might ask, ‘why bother now?’

‘I am not inviting anyone else but you.’ He waited while I tried to grasp his words. He must have understood my confusion and went on explaining.

‘You gave me what I needed the most. I could never have survived if it was not you. Every time I saw you and the life you were living, your family, your school uniform, your cricket bat, cycle you rode, all made me live the same life, I could see myself playing and going to school. I remember once you shut your window, it broke my heart, not because I could not see you watching tv but because I could not see myself watching tv. You know what? You gave me motive; you gave me motive not to die like my father but to live.’ 

I stood there looking, at him and further beyond, inside deep in his soul he was not that small boy anymore. He was far greater than any of us. My father used to say, one cannot be great by just living a normal life. The more you struggle the more you are moving towards greatness. You worry about all those small hurdles and get depressed. What you do not see is the life beyond you. Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set. It’s full of mysteries and miseries. One does not become great by flunking and running. One has to face it and answer the questions.

Here I was seeing a young man who was of my age, answering the questions with confidence. He was in a position to choose the audience of his victory. The card I was holding my hand was nothing but the mark sheet, the result of his success. I was proud that I was the one he chose.

‘I would really appreciate if you can make it to the marriage’

‘I sure will’ I had said, what I wanted to say was that I would not miss it for half of my life. I wanted to know rest of his story. I wanted to know how he answered the toughest questions life has thrown on him. I wanted to see that little girl, who kept crying while her mother carried her away. I wanted to know how the boy, who was indifferent of the events at that time towards his step-sister, was now inviting me for her marriage.  I wanted to know it all.

By the time I came out of my thoughts he was already gone. I saw him walking away. He did not go back to his house. He did not even throw a glance towards it, which was once his own house. He had outgrown it. I had read it somewhere, person who believes in himself, never looks back at what is lost. He looks towards what is coming to him. Life is all in present and what you make out of it in future. Past is for hiding. Courage never hides, it faces from the front.

I looked back at the street; he was nowhere to be found. I realized that I did not even ask him for a glass of water. ‘Who was it?’ my mother asked peeking out of the kitchen.

‘An old friend’ I said.

When you are in love and i have a stump !!

I looked at my brother, opposite to me on a wooden bench parallel to the pale washed wall of police station. beside me was a wooden door and a constable watching to infinity across the wall. smell, mixed of sweat, wet cloths has covered the room, but smell of stress was overplaying it. I could hear shouting and screaming within intervals behind the door. we flinched on each scream but expressions of the constable were constant, never changing.

'I am going to kill myself' he had said to me. I looked away, ground was empty. no sign of wind, dust had settled, we sat near the stumps. i had put cricket bat in my lap, admiring it. but these words of him was making me uneasy in myself. we were no kids anymore. nobody kills in the name of love unless its love of his own greater God. I had said nothing. his rants never stopped.

Many a times i thought of telling him that its end of love and not the end of life. She doesn't even care, its totally visible. a man with a self respect would pick those signs and step aside leaving her with what she wants and that she is happy without you and doesn't have to go through the pain of explaining it. He wont understand so i just let him be.

We were called inside. with a increased heartbeat, i stepped in. My brother followed. Inspector offered us chair opposite the table he was sitting. Table was full of lose papers, few ball point pens, several, envelops and some tea glasses. But all my focus was on the wooden stick, well polished, kept at the corner of the table. he looked at me with his small but sharp eyes.

'which one of you did this?' an husky voice from inside a lean but strong looking body hit our eardrums. my brother looked at me. it was enough for the inspector to focus on me. His continuous stare was equivalent of him saying 'start speaking'

'There is no other way than killing myself' he had said again. I stood up and told him 'thats enough' i plucked the stump out of the ground, 'stop behaving like a B grade movie hero, you are not'. he looked up to me. 'you will never know that feeling. for that you have believe in love, you have to fall in love, you have to experience it yourself what i am going through' he said getting himself up. sometimes i doubt my ability to make friends who are not cry babies. 'thats enough' i repeated but he didnt and i had the stump.

I walked him home and pushed him slowly inside his door. he cried in pain but it didnt affect me. his left hand was swollen from the elbow. His father came from inside and asked me what had happened. i lied, not about the incident, but about the reason. he told me to do so. Parents are always kept out of love stories. they find it funny, which by the way they are.

I looked back to the inspector, still staring me. I felt a giggle from outside the door and imagined the constable laughing. 'There is no FIR, just thought of warning you of your violent streak' inspector said writing down something on a piece of paper. 'Go now'

We both stood up and came out. Constable giggled back at me. My brother laughed and there was another laugh across the door, a husky laugh. I walked out of the police station and behind the curtains of my newly grown beard, which of course i have grown because of the same reason my friend got hit by the stumps, I smiled.    

Dacaar!!

wondering about the title? Over smartness, with a pinch of highly westernized language, tend to invention of such words. got it? Dafaq you did, exactly, i am talking about 'The car', not the hindi word for burp.

'babuji, main paise le aaya babuji...main paise le aya'
'bete in gale hue paison ki koi keemat nahi rhi ab'
Bhagayashree intervenes: 'babuji agar in paison ka koi mol nhi to duniya me kisi cheez ka koi mol nhi'

I was watching the exact same scene from 'maine pyar kiya' when my phone started ringing, bad omen.

'Buy a car'
'what the...'
'No seriously, see my father have two of them, and i have one for myself, so its obvious, just buy a car'
i thought about my second hand discover bike, how much pain and trauma i went through to buy it, it was my three months saving and four months jack denials behind those two wheels and now here is a girl asking me to buy a freaking car. calculations show for a second hand Santro it would be eleven months of saving and fourteen months of Jack denials on the stake, never, ever, ever...and ever.
'listen baby'
'dont baby me, do you want my father to agree for us or not?'
'i do..but'
'no but shut fut...just buy a car and on sunday come home only in a car, and yes, please dont buy a second hand one like that god forsaken bike of yours, for god sake'
brand new car? nineteen months of saving and twenty three months of jack denials.

'babuji main or paise le aunga babuji, mujhe ek or mauka dijiye, ek or mauka dijiye babuji, main vada karta hun ki iss baar note bheegenge nhi, note bheegenge nhi babuji' what an irony. i never thought a salman khan movie could be so damn realistic that i have to fight back my tears.

'I need a car' i said with a poker face. his face lit. budget, mileage, loan, model, leather seat, fully loaded all these terms started raining from his mouth, my mind was stuck only with word scheme. This one you can take it for three days and after that if you dont like just return back us. 'just return back...just return back...just return back' started playing in my mind.

I will take it, i mean i will try it' after few signatures here and there and some proofs of my address and identity here and there. i was riding a brand new honda city, with just one month of salary in deposit. heaven.

I came home and showed the key to my roommate and instead of just a happy smile he started laughing and pointed to the tv.

'what nonsense yaar, har cheez ki had hoti hai sameer. meri maan or vahan jake usko bol ki ye sab natak nhi chalega. are usne teri khuddari ko lalkara hai yaar. kya kar rha hai, mard ban, be a man'

Dil chahta hai. He switched off the tv and said, 'dude she said 'god forsaken' to your bike' and laughed again. well i was not really motivated but yes 'she insulted my bike' and yes, thats a big deal.

Sunday morning i was there in front of her house, in a brand new Honda city, well NO, on my God forsaken, second hand Bajaj Discover. In my hand there was no bucket of flowers but my four jack denials cost smartphone.

Her father opened the door. gave a rejection look to my bike and then to me. without any delay i handed my phone to him with a video playing.

'Sir main Kavya k liye better insaan baanna chahta hun'
'to fir cigarette kyun pita hai?'
'Sir main uske liye better insaan ban sakta hun, badal nhi sakta'

Humpty Sharma. After watching the clip, he looked up. And...

Disclaimer: Pardon me if you are not a Filmi buff...

    

psycho in me

tak tak tak tak tak.....was the only sound coming apart from the tik tik of the wall clock. 11:47 Friday night and i was slicing onions. dinner was far away as i spent whole evening staring to the email which said 'Its over'.

i touched the blood, warm it was, it started flowing towards my wrist. i felt a strange pleasure filling my heart. a voice in my head said, 'its not over' and i knew what i wanted. i wanted more.wall clock was still ticking. i could count single second passing. there was no other sound but heaving of my lungs.

i looked at the twinkle of light on blade of the knife, marvelous it was. i could feel its reflection in my lenses. i closed my eyes and felt it, adrenal rushed through my veins as i cut through myself, smile appeared, i did not need a mirror to see myself smiling, i felt it from my soul. i opened my eyes and there was a miraculous scene of red. enough of small little fingers, i needed a higher dose, greater smile, more pleasant scenery for my eyes.

In a stroke i chopped off two of my fingers, a shiver ran, whole body became numb, i couldn't feel anything, not even pain. blood started dripping off the kitchen platform. eyes still staring the separated piece of slow moving meat of my own. where was the rush? where was the smile? and when i heard those same words, i knew what was to be done. with a single stroke i pushed half of the blade into my thigh, blood came out like a fountain, dark red liquid coloring the pool. and it appeared, yet again, the smile, the satisfaction. more and more smile covered my mind as more and more blood colored the floor.

i thought of plucking out my eye, but then i wanted to see the blood so i dropped the idea, instead cut my left ear so that blood could cover my still clean face.'its not over' i stuck the blade to my chest and handle to the kitchen wall and pushed myself on it, cutting open a four inch wound, i made it wider by chopping off the flesh, i could hear it now, heart pumping, dup dup dup dup dup dup...'
holy mother of cow' i stood back, alarm was still beeping. i was drenched in sweat. i checked all my intact fingers and repeated 'holy mother of cow'.

Later when i returned back from the office. an unread mail was waiting for me. subject line said 'its over'. i threw a glance in the kitchen, there was an onion kept beside the knife, waiting.      

'Its over?' millions of thoughts hovering. more than 5 years, thousands of memories, and just a mail saying 'its over'. i gulped the last sip and came into the kitchen.every slice i cut, my mind repeated 'its over...its over...its over' and next moment a jet stream of red viscus liquid broke from my finger. in few minutes, half of the board became red. a smile appeared on my face. i could feel it. the more blood i saw, more i smiled. 'its not over yet' then it stopped. 

Ice-cream !!

Seven degree below freezing point is the temperature outside and there is no way I could write this post with heater on or windows closed. Only reason I am able to write it, is because of this freezing temperature. I hope it continues and it never comes above zero, after all now it’s a matter of survival.

A day ago

After an overnight snowstorm, morning was calm and sunny, a perfect day for skiing. We, a bunch of friends were already geared up. Everything was fine this weekend, except her, she came with one of our friend, the moment I saw her I felt a strange vibe around. Though she looked normal but her blue green eyes were freaking me out. While we all were enjoying, she just stood around the corner and watched us. I tried hard to avoid, but there was something that made me throw frequent glares on her.

The first chance I got alone, I inquired my friend about her. He said he just met her last evening in a club and it was her who came to him, so he just invited her for our skiing outing and she agreed. ‘Isn't it Weird?’ I asked him. ‘I mean look at her, as if she is a witch or something, continuously chanting under closed lips’ 

‘Don’t be a freak’ ‘this is not India, here girls can approach you and there is nothing weird about her’ he just hushed me, with all his available logic, i was stumped. May be he was right.

After we were done, she came to us carrying a small wooden bucket which was full of ice-creams. Some of them took it and some didn't, I was the one belonging to the group who didn't. I am not a big fan of ice-creams, especially if it’s already freezing outside. I could have taken one if it was an Indian summer, but not here. Once she was done asking everyone she turned again to me and offered one again.

‘I am sorry, but I don’t want, it makes me cold’ ‘please just have a small one’ she said and I already felt pushed. ‘No Thank you’ I replied this time bit firm. ‘I insist’ she said. Now it was already a scene and everyone around was eager, I tried once more, ‘No seriously, thank you but I don’t want one’ I was as polite as I could be. She put the ice-cream back into the bucket and started walking to the parking.

Next minute, I was a victim of clod stare from my friends. ‘what’s wrong with you?’ ‘you should have taken it’ ‘she was insisting you dude’ all these sentences were fired at me. I had no defense and before I could say anything we saw her coming back. This time she had a different cup of ice-cream. 

She came to me and stretched her arms offering it, ‘try this, I bet you will never forget this ice-cream your whole life’. Now I was bombed with more stares, there was no other option but to accept this offer. I took it. Everyone smiled. She smiled. But her smile was not a smile of happiness; it was a victory smile, which I understood now. Her eyes gave a sparkle the moment I had the first bite from it.

After that there was nothing else, just her eyes staring into mine, we came back and I felt so tired, went to sleep, her eyes were still there. I felt my whole body freezing. I opened my eyes just to find whole bed wet and watery. I felt my skin has become softer, so soft that I could poke it through my fingers. I ran towards the heater and switched it off. It didn't help. I ran towards the fridge, threw everything out of it and made space for myself. Sitting inside the refrigerator, when my body started to get stiff, I realized it was real. 

Her eyes sparkled in front of me; I could see her smile while offering the ice-cream. I looked at myself; I could see the same color of the ice-cream. My mind repeated the warning she gave, 'I bet you will never forget this ice-cream your whole life' 

Warning:  The girl has been never found; If you see any girl with blue green eyes, Never ever accept an ice-cream from her.  

Pain Killer

For long pain killers have been a subject for research. These medicines work by suppressing the active part of brain which let us feel pain. But as the amount of medicine is increased slowly brain starts responding to it in different ways it can be in terms of affecting ones thought processing, brain behavior and psychological mannerism, people have also complained having hallucination. Recently I came to know that various researches are going on to make these medicines side effect free. As I am a curious child I found a link through one of my old doctor friend and got a permission to visit one such experiment.

I visited a medical research institute where a group of scientists were conducting an experiment on the same. As a part of non-disclosure contract, because such experiments on humans can be categorized as inhuman and Indian law along with human rights organizations does not permit experiments on man, I was not allowed here to name the institute but finding a loop hole in the agreement I am free to document the events and the procedure of the experiment.

Doctors involved in this experiment are highly confidential about the people used as subjects. In all I could find that there were three person on whom the tests were going on. A hushed voice told me that these men are criminals, one of them a serial killer and other two rapists. I guess this kind of selection is because it will reduce the guilt of going to an extreme level of testing on them.

In paper it was a simple paragraph stating what exactly they need to do. All three of them were kept in different closed chambers and were given a healthy diet at regular intervals. There oxygen intake, heartbeat rate, blood pressure and brain activity were continuously monitored through different instruments which were attached to their bodies through various channels and fibers. Front wall of the chamber was made of glass so that they can be watched. I was allowed to stay in the corridor from where I could see the glass clearly. But I could not see any of them as the chamber was kept in complete dark. They said this new medicine gives desired result only in absence of light. The dose of medicine was given daily twice and each day the amount of drug was increased by 10% concentration. Once the medicine was given they were asked questions in order to know the effect. This is what the experiment was to check the maximum amount of the medicine which does not affect the brain.  

When I reached there, fifteen days of the experiment was already over from the overall schedule of three months. I used to be there only at the time of questioning session to know their experiences. Five days were passed and there was nothing weird, I could hear them saying, ‘when I will be getting out of here’ or ‘yes, your medicine is working, I feel nothing weird’ or ‘I still feel the pain you idiots’ or similar kind of statements coming from the room. I was not able to see them but behavior felt normal. Till now the medicine was working as they wanted. ‘Increase the dose by 25% tomorrow’ I heard the doctor saying to the assistant’.

It was twenty first day of the experiment and we all were curious as the dose concentration was increased. ‘I feel good’ was the reply from the murderer. There was no reply from the second chamber there was just tapping of foot and humming of an unknown song. From the third chamber reply was like previous, ‘when will I get out from here’. But nothing was weird. Next day it was similar and replies were same. Each day there was increase of 25% concentration. ‘Can I have more?’ the murderer asked while questioning. We felt he was chewing something.

‘What do you want more?’ one of the doctors asked him.

‘Medicine’ he replied still chewing something.

‘What are you eating?’

‘Nothing’ and then there was no reply from him. He didn’t reply any of the questions after. The monitor showed everything normal no increase or decrease in blood pressure. We all moved to second chamber.

‘How are you today?’

‘I am fine, just bit hungry’

‘But you just now had food’

‘Its not enough’ then again he started humming the same song.

Third one was still the same.

‘Come to the front so we can see you’

‘No, first promise me you will take me out’

‘Ok’

‘No, I won’t come, go away’

We heard him walking at the end of the room. It was weird for all of us why he refused to come in front of us. 

Next day all three of them were asked to come to the glass wall but none of them agreed to it. The instruments were showing normal readings for all three. But the first one always kept chewing something and second one kept humming and tapping his foot. Now for two days there was no sound coming from the third chamber.  All the doctors were worried of the third subject.

‘Ok you can come out, you are free’ one of the doctor said to the third subject. There was no sound.

‘Don’t you want to go home?’ he asked again. With a long pause a slow voice said ‘no’. We all were surprised. Before he could ask him more, there was a loud screaming from the second cell. We could feel he was running from wall to wall and screaming. We turned to the instruments, blood pressure was shooting high, heart pumping rapidly but the brain was showing no activity. And within few minute it all went silent. All measures normal again.

They noted the concentration and decide not to give him tomorrow. No change for other two.

Next day, the first subject did not reply anything, just kept chewing something. Second subject was briskly walking from wall to wall beating his foot, but there was no humming of song now. There was no sound from the third subject. Only change they felt was increase in oxygen intake and rise in blood pressure. After 29 days they decided to take the second subject out. Lights outside were made dim so that sudden light should not harm his eyes. Two security guys were sent inside the compartment to bring him out and they came out almost running. One of them started vomiting and other without saying something ran out of the room. Looking at the situation it was decided to light the cell a bit to see the situation. A ten watt bulb was lit and the scene was horrifying.

The subject was completely naked. He had broke chunks of cement from the wall and had cut his skin from everywhere on his body. His thigh was missing flesh and those flesh chunks were lying here and there on the ground. His intestine was hanging from his stomach and those chunks of cements were put there in his stomach. He was still walking from wall to wall. There was no flesh left under his feet because of walking.

Looking at the condition doctors decided to inject him with anesthesia and operate his injuries. To surprise any dose of anesthesia didn’t work on him. More guards were called and finally he was tied up on an operation bed and was operated to keep back his intestine back in his stomach. Unfortunately he died in mid operation. We came to know that not a single sigh of pain came from his mouth may be because he has broken his vocal cord while screaming and was unable to speak anything.

This was shocking enough for the panel to decide and bring out other two too. Another team of security guards were called as none of the member of previous team was ready to go inside. We all were in front of the third cell and like yesterday there was no sound coming from it. A dim light was lit and within no time subject started screaming to switch it off. His situation was no different from the person who was dead. But in this case he seemed more violent. The security people were struggling to control. And started hitting him with their sticks. We could hear him laughing and screaming ‘more’ ‘more’. One of the guard took out his rifle to threaten him but instead he snatched the rifle and shot himself in his chest and kept laughing till his heart stopped beating. There was smile on his face after he was dead.

As both of the subjects were dead, the team of doctor decided to take the third subject out immediately. Third subject, the murderer was in worst condition of all, still chewing his own flesh. One of his leg and a hand was completely out of flesh and we could see the bones peeping out of it. There was a big cut on his side chest from where the ribs were visible and he kept peeling the skin from it and putting it in his mouth. Only surprising thing was that he was not at all violent but was sitting in the corner calmly.

As he was brought out of the cell, he kept asking if he would get more medicine. Once he was on the operation bed so that his wounds could be sealed, he started smiling like other two. As the anesthesia was not working on any of them, one of the doctors started cutting the hanging flesh. Seeing him smile another doctor asked, ‘why are you smiling?’

 Ignoring his question he turned to the first doctor and said smiling, ‘keep cutting…’

She !!

She kept weeping, so much that her body has started struggling for each gasp. Each breath was as if hiccups have increased its extent. Lady Constable was constantly trying to comfort her by rubbing her back and offering glass of water.

‘This is too much sir, we must file this complain and take those animals to court’ constable said to inspector who was stationed in front of her, staring at her burned hand and cursing the fate of this poor woman. Society is still not grown up. They still treat women as if they are their own possession. Beating their wife is still a matter of manhood for those who are not able to digest their equality.

‘I thought they would realize, my care for them will change them one day, but today when they tried to burn me alive. I was left with no other choice but to come here with my plea’ she said controlling her tears. ‘I have done all to save my marriage. Today, with no reason at all they all just shot on me, first my husband kicked me and punched me while my father-in-law was shouting from the corner of the room and suddenly my mother-in-law came with a burning stick and kerosene and tried to burn me alive, it was then I ran out of the house and came here.’ She said and again started crying.

One of the constables was busy scribbling the story on a paper. Once he was done he came to the lady. She took the paper and signed it without even reading it.

‘Let’s get them here’ The Inspector signaled other constables and next moment they left for the address given by the lady.

It was quiet in the police station; only evident sound was sobs of the lady. There were few people gathered outside the gate to know more about the case, some of them were media staff as they knew they were going to get something to fill in tomorrow’s newspaper.

They saw the jeep coming back, this time with extra three members. They all were almost dragged inside the station, mother crying loudly, father horrified. They all were pushed in the corner. Inspector stood in front of them observing. He could see burn marks on her mother-in-law, also bleeding forehead of her husband.

‘What do you think, you are?’ shouted the inspector, holding the collar of her husband. ‘Sir, whatever she was saying, is a lie.’ Gulping his own saliva, her husband started,’ Sir, It’s her who want a separate life. It’s her who wants my parents to leave the house. It’s her…’ It all went silent, a huge slap, tearing his skin to bleed was enough to make everything silent. I drop of tear rolled out of his red turned eye.

Inspector turned to the lady constable, gesturing her to take the woman to her home. She stood up and started to the door. All three of them were watching her leave and then from the corner of eye she saw her husband. As soon as their eyes met, she winked…

Another tear rolled out of his eyes. Only good thing which happened today was that he was able to save her mother from the fire.

You stay back...

‘Hi’

‘Hi’ she said. She was sitting on white marble square rock and gave some space beside her to sit. I just walked to her and occupied the place. It was cold.

‘How are you?’

‘I am good, how about you?’

‘I am fine too.’

There was a weird silence for few minutes. I saw few more people sitting here and there. Place looked weird but people around made it happening. Then I asked again,

‘So how’s life in here?’

‘Life?’ she laughed. I realized my mistake.

‘I mean how’s everything going?’

‘Quite good, in fact you will realize that its far more better here, peace of mind you know. And for all this, thanks to you, if I had not loved you so much, then this would have never came to me. Sometimes you miss those days but then it’s all for your own good. ‘I could see the wise side of her.

‘But I am surprised to see you here; I thought you would be living a happy life with her. After all you loved her so much, like I loved you. What’s the story?’ she asked with curious eyes.

‘its no different than yours. Just after you left the place, I got the news. She was going to get married. Although she loved me, but then you know how it works over there, family, society and culture. Just like you, I was not able to handle it. At first I thought that I am weak. But now after coming here, I feel good and after meeting you I feel better.

She smiled but never said anything. I kept looking to others around there. Some of them in deep thoughts, some smiling, they all seems to be in peace. She saw my eyes and said,

‘They all are likewise, common place for all of them who does what we did.’

‘I can see that’ I replied. There was nothing to talk more. We just sat there quietly. Time passed. She suddenly turned to me and said, ‘sun is rising. Time to go back’

I stood up. I saw everyone else going back. She asked, ‘do you still love her?’

I said, ‘she is happily married now’ and started walking towards my grave. As I was about to close the lid of it, I looked towards her, her grave was already closed, she was gone. We all sleep whole day. I know this is going to be a routine as I was told, if you suicide, you stay back.

Her last words...

‘Take care’ was her last words to me. I saw her walk away, my eyes were still following her in hope that she will at least turn back if not return, but hope is something that is not real. She went. I was left alone.

Lying on the bed I had no other work but to observe my current situation. There was no one else to blame but me. I had never felt this grave thing before. I could feel a pain in my chest; blood in vain was racing towards the heavily beating heart. Brain ignoring all the signals but pain. I was not crying but my eyes were not in sync with me. Every now and then a tiny drop of water was falling from them, making the pillow wet near my ears. All colors in life were suddenly vanished; everything seems like a blank paper.

There were days I was free, untroubled, not worried about anything, but then everyone has to suffer their share of pain, their share of agony and It came, it happened to me. All my resistance failed drastically, I became helpless. I thought it is just a condition, it would pass too. Now I know I was wrong. It has made such a worse effect on me that I could not even breathe. It became bigger and bigger, I was totally trapped in its world. World became so different for me that nothing else mattered, money, relatives, friends, no one.

Once she left, I realized that there were many things to tell, to explain, to share so that she could understand me, so that she could help me to overcome this. But she had left. I was not able to think of anything but her. I wanted her back. I wanted to tell her that it is me who needs her more not someone else. But then how does it matter now? She is already with someone else now. May be it is righteous too. May be there is someone who deserves her more than me. May be…

I closed my eyes and let one more drop of tear fall. Waiting for a change, a change in pain, change in the condition and finally it came. I heard the footsteps, I knew it was hers, I opened my eyes just to have glimpse of her. She was there in front of me, smiling. I tried to smile back but failed. She came nearer and this was the time, I was already late last time, but now I don’t want to repeat the same mistake of not letting her know what I feel. I said, ’the moment you left, I could feel a strange pain in my heart’

‘It’s the effect of medicine I gave; now I will give you a sleeping pill, so that you can have some rest’

‘What has happened to me?’

‘Dengue’ was her last words and the nurse gave me the pill and left me in the hospital ward to check some other patient.

Its not the end...

Darkness was at its extreme, his eyes got open with a strange sound. The sound of leather shoes, which his master used to wear and roam in this big house. The sound was turning louder and louder, that means his master is coming in his direction. His throat felt a drought and he found a drop of sweat running down behind his right ear.

It has been nine years working in this house, for this fourteen year boy. He knew that his master has bought him from his father for two hundred and eighty rupees, when he was five, so that his father could pay to the land lord and save his mother from being a keep of him. He doesn’t know what has happened after that to his family, his master never told him anything else, now all he knows is washing clothes, utensils, floor and polishing shoes, making drinks, cleaning tables and to add he knows the beatings, be it from a belt, a stick or legs covered with same leather shoes.

Next moment his master was in front of him. Carrying the same leather belt in his hand which he used to beat him. He started crying, but that made no difference, his master started beating him with the belt, when his hand were tired, he kicked him, when his legs got tired, again the belt made his way. Whole house was filled with loud cries of pain, but he knew no one is listening, not even his master. He could feel his skin getting torn, his abdomen bleed, his eyes swollen, and his legs numb. Once his master was done, he shouted, ‘you son of a bitch, how dare you tried to kill me, take it as a lesson you mother f***r, next time I will kill you bastard’

He left, leaving him in intense pain, but his mind was not worried about the wounds, it was worried about the words his master said ‘how dare you tried to kill me’ he was struggling to recall. It was not that he has not thought about killing his master for beating him like animals but never let this thought convert in an act. He tried hard and was again back to last night.

His master just came in and asked him to prepare drinks. He did. It was the fifth time he was pouring the whisky in the glass, his master put his legs on the table and with the jerk he trembled and bottle smashed on the ground with an intense sound, sharp smell of whisky all over. Next moment he found himself on the ground, two big hands pressing hard on his throat, he was not able to breath, lungs dying in lack of air, heart slowing down, eye bulging out, mouth opened to its extreme to find some air, legs started pounding the ground, hands moving all over the glass pieces and grabbing a big one tightly…Next moment there was no sound, not even sound of breathing, everything went silent.    

He felt present was more painful than the last night; he just closed his eyes and kept waiting for the morning, when he heard few people walking and someone saying, ‘they both killed each other it seems, send the bodies for postmortem’

He came out dragging his left leg, wiping blood from his eyes and saw few policemen taking out his and his master’s body out, his master sitting on the chair, with the belt still in his hand, drinking, smiling.


He understood the meaning of his smile, 'Its not the end...'

Once upon a time !!

I have heard lot of stories from my grandmother. She had so many varieties of them and the way she narrated those stints that somehow I started feeling those were not stories but incidents. Thought of sharing one of them, ignoring the fact that some of you might already know it. And yes like all Grandma Stories it also starts with…

‘Once upon a time… Husband and wife started their journey for their native which was across few villages. They took the only donkey which they had and loaded the luggage on its back. There was enough space for both of them to sit on it. The donkey was old but kind of royal treatment it got from its owner, he was still fit enough to carry both of them.

Journey started, but it was not long that they found people around; staring at them as if the luggage loaded on the donkey was theirs. ‘But I was sure that I loaded my own stuff’ he thought. He saw a bunch of people standing in a group ahead and murmuring something. He wanted to hear but old age has shown enough harm on his ears, but his wife’s ears were sharp like hare, she always hears the cuss words which are not even out of my mouth. So he said to his wife, ‘why don’t you try and listen what those staring people are talking about?’ and with no much wait she replied, ‘the poor old donkey is dying beneath two cruel ugly looking people that is us’ she replied. ‘What did you say you hippo?’ the man got angry more by the word ugly rather than the tone of his wife.

‘That’s what those people are saying not me’ she added immediately. Now there was a silence for a while and the next moment he was on the ground walking beside the donkey, his wife enjoying the ride alone.

It was not long that his wife started asking him to stop; but his weak ears and the people on the way who were still staring and smiling on him, made him walk few steps more before stopping. As soon as he stopped his wife got down and asked him to sit on the donkey. The man got impressed by her wife’s courtesy which was a rare occurrence and only happens when all the planets in the solar system are aligned in a straight line. He looked up to the sky, smiled and almost jumped on the back of the donkey.

‘Thank You’ he said but she was not even looking at him but staring at couple of people going the other direction. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘These buggers were saying that I am a horrible wife making my husband walk on the ground while I was comfortable on the donkey’ she said and the man unsuccessfully tried to control his laugh.

But all his contentment was lost when an old lady threw a pebble on him cursing, ‘don’t you have any shame? Letting your wife walk while you ride…disgusting ‘. Next moment both of them were walking beside the donkey, two of them smiling, I meant his wife and the donkey.   

They found many people laughing at them in further journey. Eventually they heard someone saying, ‘look at those fools, they are having a donkey with them still walking, as if the donkey is their ancestor’

They both looked at each other and smiled. And when they reached to their destination, both were sitting on the donkey…’

Moral of the story??? There are many, one of it is the first line of the song from movie Amar Prem, sung By Mr. Kishore Kumar and featuring Mr. Rajesh Khanna…. Hope you guessed it right...