Start again

NOTE: This is a short story written without using the letter e.




Gushing, swirling, snarling, it sucks this world of its goods. Hours pass as it grows ominously. It has all that a man would want. It has animals, wood, cash, books, and luxury, floating in it, still as a rock. But it knows. It knows what’s missing. It wants to triumph. But that’s only a wish. It knows that its task is difficult. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ it says. ‘I watch this world and all actions that occur within. But its artist is lost. Missing...’

What it wants, it will lack. That’s what’s thrilling. So it hunts what’s lost through thick and thin. But will it find him? Not now. Its smoky body churns bits of world within it. ‘His kind could not go too far,’ it says. Storming forward, it stirs this world in a thick mist. Gloomy thoughts skulking into its foggy soul, it sobs. ‘I will not allow him to go. Not now. I will find him,’ it says.

Slowly, it spots that rascal at this world’s outskirts. ‘Is that him?’ it thinks.

‘It is. It is. It is. Oh! It’s him.’

‘So that’s your hiding spot, you saucy boy. You human.’

‘I’m not human.’

‘I know you. I look for you in all worlds, burying all that you kill. And now…now you will kill Mars, is it?

‘You don’t know my kind. I guard this world.’

‘How you did prior to this?’

‘Si.’

‘I will catch you now.’

Slowly but gradually, man skims towards his rival.

‘Wait. Watch this stunning thing that’s known to us as Mars,’ says man with all his might.

‘I can craft this thing till it knows why it subsists.’

‘It’s a violation. I don’t allow humans abusing my worlds.’

‘An opportunity is all I want.’

‘You just play with words. That’s what you do’

‘I don’t. Trust my word.’ Man lifts his right foot away from its cloudy rival, who pays no thought to his motion.

‘Trust you? I spit on you.’

‘I did trust you long back. All you did was discount it for your own goals. You had so much control. And you got that authority from I. As I would sit thinking of how to build you, I thought of my kind. I thought you would fill us with satisfaction and do my work. I was lazy. But now I know.’

It turns back to man and says.

‘I’m sorry I built you. But now I will kill you.’

All is stormy.

It’s a start again.

Death has a relative

NOTE: This story is an interrogation. But the writing style is different. Here's how. The questions are not mentioned. Only the answers to those questions have been written. Also, this is a tribute to my favourite TV series, Breaking Bad. I will miss it terribly. 

1. What do you want me to say? What could I have done?


2. What do you mean by why? I have cancer and you’re pregnant. I didn’t do this for me. I did it for you, for us.


3. I’m not putting it on you. I was scared. I was desperate. I needed the fucking money. That asshole of a father wasn’t helping. Besides, that was all drug money anyway.


4. I’m sorry. But what I did was right. And I’m not going to confess this. Not now.


5. I actually enjoyed it. He had been pissing me off all my life. That motherfucking bastard.


6. Hold it. If you call the police, I’ll blame it all on you. See this. I dipped your shirt in his blood.


7. Hahaha.


8. A psycho? No you got it wrong. I’m your fucking savior. And I did him a favour. His money is about to be laundered. He needed that.


9. Yes he was. Past tense. I don’t have a father anymore.


10. You keep your fucking mouth shut. I did this for you and our child. Is this how you’re going to pay me back?


11. Stop questioning me. You have the money. Go live your life.


12. Me? Now, I’ll die in peace.

The song of the midnight light

My lines write less and my heart feels more
Make my heart and lines beat together as one.
For in those midnight-light lands lies my dream.
Come, let me achieve it and live the rest as I wish.
Come take me away from you and me for I wish so.
And wish will I always.

Pull me away from these throngs. I go deeper into them every second.
Take me to a place where eyes can breathe.
Take me where my mind can see.
They say there is a light that never ebbs; a light that never bids farewell.
The never fading lights drive me towards them.
For as the seconds fade, I pray to be where only a few reside in mind and spirit.

I see beautiful faces leap for the sun as it offers its pleasantries.
For the lands are as pleasant as the Gods old.
With some lamb and cottage stew, my soul rests.
Let it rest now, now when the rest is all it needs.
For when it wakes, it shall die relentlessly.
Let it not die now. For it has many dying days yonder.

Silence

‘She has Alzheimer’s, Mrs. Kapoor. It can just be kept in check, not cured. However, it has been deeply set in your mother’s case; I cannot do much about it. We all have to just hope for the best. I’m sorry.’

‘No! This can’t be true, doctor. Please try doing something. I am ready to pay for any kind of treatment.’

‘Mrs. Kapoor, the disease has been setting in since five years now and this is not the first stroke. Mrs. Pushpa had been a victim to a large amount of stress in her lifetime and all of that has led to this. No medication can help her now. Her grey cells are getting destroyed very rapidly, every second. We can curb it but we can’t create new cells.’

Mala Kapoor ran to her mother’s room at Jaslok hospital and slumped onto the bed. As she looked at her mother’s calm expression, a metal ball of grief pressed at her throat, slicing it to pieces.

She looked at her auburn curls, fair skin and rosy lips. They were replicas of each other. She admired her mother’s beauty as she lay there sleeping in the white sheets. She gave out a slight laugh when she thought of how her mother would hide her age; how for ages she had been only 45 years old. All that had passed.

What she had just heard, stung her heart, crippled it, tortured it. Her poor mother had been a child of God. She was her shield, her friend, her advisor and councilor. She bent to hug her and her insides throbbed with pain as she thought of her mother’s plight. Never would there be a day when she wouldn’t speak with her; but since her father left them, she knew there was pent up sadness behind the veil of her beautiful smile.

She continued crying when suddenly her mother opened her eyes.

‘Who are you?’ She said

‘I’m Mala, maa. Don’t you remember me? Your daughter?’

‘Mala? Oh ok… Why are you crying?’

‘Nothing Maa. Just… I had a bad dream.’

‘Where are we? Why are we in the hospital?’

‘We had to get your regular checkups done. You will get discharged in a few hours. Everything is fine.’

In an instant she had become a stranger, from the pampered daughter to a complete stranger. She looked down at her knees and saw how they shivered and this was only the beginning. Her moist red eyes welled up again.

***

She looked into her mother’s eyes. The light was diminishing as the days went. She sat there in their apartment at Malabar hill and looked through the window. The carrot coloured drapes hung heavily on the window as she looked on, over to the sunset. Mala always thought the sunset was beautiful. But today, she hated it. It reminded her of the offset of her mother’s life, of how the bright blue warm mornings were turning to ruddy cool skies.

Maa was sitting on the milk white couch in the middle of the hall looking blankly at the television set. She looked like she was straining to take in each and every word that was being spoken. Then suddenly she looked over at the coffee table standing in front of the French windows, ‘I have to go and pick up Aju from school. He will be waiting out for me. He’s too naughty. I don’t want him running behind…..’

A chill ran down her spine as she heard what Maa was saying. The shock of it made her mind zoom. She tried speaking but her voice was betraying her.

 ‘Maa? Aju lives in Spain now. He has a family of his own. He is not your little boy anymore. Just rest for some time, please?’

‘I’m not your Maa. Don’t you ever call me that. I know who my kids are. Who are you to tell me anything? Why am I here? I want to pick up my son.’

‘You are my Maa. I won’t let you forget me so soon.’

***

She looked at the clock. It was 2:30 am. The cool night breeze was knocking on her window gently. She was feeling lazy to wake up and check on Maa but she decided otherwise. ‘I hope she hasn’t wet the bed.’ She thought.

The white marble felt cool on her feet as she made her way towards Maa’s plush bedroom and opened the teakwood door. What she saw made her senses halt for a second.

Maa was sitting on the chocolaty brown dressing table, her reflection beaming back at her.

‘You look very pretty.’ She said. ‘I have never seen such beauty. Where are you from? You look like a very decent lady.’ Mala tiptoed into the room now. ‘My name is Pushpa. What is yours?’

The whole room was in a mess. There were cakes of feces pasted on the walls, ejecting volumes of pungent odour. There was muddy water running from the cakes and down the bright peach coloured walls. Mala felt the bile in her throat rise again and again. She couldn’t take this anymore. It was one thing to see your mother like that and another to watch your beautiful house turn into a dump.

She gathered up all her courage and shouted out, ‘Maa, who are you talking to? There is no one here.’

‘And who are you? Are you blind? Can’t you see this lady here?’ she said pointing at her own reflection in the mirror.

‘Yes you’re right.’ She sighed. ‘Now let’s freshen up and go to bed. Aren’t you sleepy?’

She turned back and screamed back at her, ‘He didn’t go missing.’

Nobody spoke for the next fifteen seconds. The silence cut through her every second. She knew exactly who her mother was talking about.

‘Wha wha…What happened to him then?’ She asked softly. ‘He didn’t go missing? Do you know what happened to him?’

‘Shhhhhh. It’s a secret.’

‘Tell me. I want to know.’

‘I’ve hidden him well. Nobody will find him. You won’t tell anyone no?’

‘No I won’t. Go on. I’m here.’

‘I confronted him and told him that I knew what he was up to. I told him. He needed to know.’ She said with a heart wrenching wail.

She had never seen her mother so helpless. Never had she broken down like that. She ran to her mother and squeezed herself against her.

‘And all he said was… I don’t give a damn. Do what you want to.’

Her voice grew deeper with the pain surging through it relentlessly; the anguish creeping into her very soul.

How was she to help her? She thought.

‘I don’t give a damn? That’s what he had to say. How was I supposed to react to that? How dare he treat me like that? I had given my life to him.’

‘What did he do? What have you been hiding?’

Mala noticed the unusually fat sweat beads on her mother’s forehead. Her hands shivered like she was being electrocuted as she reached out to the water jug. She grabbed it and fell to the floor with a loud clang.

‘Maaa. NO!’

***

That night Mala didn’t sleep. In fact, every night after that frightful night, she went to her mother’s room in the quest of getting more clues of her long kept secret.

She knew the man she was talking about. She had heard of him but had never known him. What could have happened all those years ago? He had gone missing in the year 1980. Nobody knew what happened to him. They had searched for him persistently but never found him. Now, she had to search for him. She had to find him because with him went a secret, the secret that had built her mother’s silence.

***

‘God! This room is in such a mess.’ said Mala entering her mother’s room. There were clothes strewn all over the room. The curtains had food stains on them and it smelt of decay. Maa had wet the bed again. She went over to the bed and turned her over. The smell of decay was coming from her.

In the past few months Maa had never mentioned him again. She had tried to ask her but poor Maa’s memory was lost. She turned her over to the other side of the bed.

‘My name is Pushpa.’ She said. That was all she said lately. She had forgotten everything, everything except her identity.

The smell of decay was getting stronger. Maa had a bed sore on her back side. The flesh was hanging lose but she didn’t give out a slight whelp of pain. She had lost all senses. This was her last leg, Mala realized.

She carefully cleaned her sore and put a cool antiseptic powder on it to make her feel better. She then removed the sheets and placed fresh clean ones. Maa barely stayed awake nowadays; she would just eat and sleep.

She now went to clean the cupboard. There was so much work to do. Her hand touched the handle of the cupboard and an unusual thought struck her right in between her eyes.

Her mother kept a diary in her better days. She pored her heart into it. It had always been her way of venting out. She had often advised Mala to do the same. How could she have forgotten it? ‘Maybe that has the answers to all my questions.’ she thought.

She swung the wooden doors open and started searching frantically. Piles of clothes along with her fears came tumbling out of the wardrobe.

There was nothing. The diary was lost.

‘There’s no point thinking about this anymore. It’s all in the past.’ She thought. She started folding her mother’s clothes with dejection and piled them on top of each other. Suddenly, her hands felt something hard. She pulled the clothes apart and there it was. The olive green four-hundred pager lay in the midst of the clothes.

She grabbed it and opened to the first page.

Don’t read it if not yours.

These are my thoughts.

If I catch you,

I’ll make you run on all fours.

She gave out a hearty laugh. She felt like she hadn’t laughed in years. Her fingers took her to page 57 and she read.

The day I found him

Date: 30 April 1974

I had never thought I would get this feeling. I’m so excited. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. When he kissed me, I thought I’m going to faint and the view, Oh God! The view was panoramic. It was just the place to propose marriage; the lofty mountains and just the two of us. I felt like I had broken free. He’s an extension to myself, my body, my mind and spirit.

 Thank you, God. I love you. I’m sure I want this.

‘She was so excited.’ She thought. ‘I wonder how it would feel to be with the man of your dreams.’ She read her mother’s diary entry once again. ‘I would be such a wonderful feeling. Being with him made her feel as though her soul had escaped from the narrow confines of her island country into the vast, extravagant spaces of his. She had found the answer to the questions that plagued every woman’s mind. She had found her future.’ She thought with a smile.

She was flipping through the pages thinking of all the men that she had dated. The smile never seemed to ebb away. She was mindlessly looking at the yellowing pages when suddenly her heart skipped a beat as she registered what was written there.

The day he went missing.

Date: 17 October 1980

I overheard his conversation. The man disgusts me. I’m seething in pain and hate. I don’t know if my vengeance is still paid for. He wanted us to leave for that girlfriend of his, the bitch. He brought her here so many times. What was I to do? Look at them and be happy for the way they made love in my bed? The bastard doesn’t deserve anything better. Let his bones rot there. Nobody will ever know where they’re hidden. I want to bring him back to life and kill him again. He told me he didn’t care a damn. Well, neither did I. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. My hands are itching with frustration. My head is pounding so hard. I want to cut his body to pieces and feed them to dogs. That’s what I want to do.

She read the lines and looked at the lifeless form of Maa. She lay there, with a bed sore oozing with blood and puss, her mouth open and her eyes empty.

Flash Fiction - Six words speak a thousand stories.

01.       Look into your eyes, they’re crying.
02.       One sole more; one soul less.
03.       We entered the realm blindfolded.
04.       Fire on. The night has begun.
05.       Come seek us in your mind.
06.       Those caves with the hidden sunlight.
07.       Flat tyres. Bulbous fruits. Wonderful journeys.
08.       We walked into the shivers again.
09.       It’s the house that lusts you.

10.      The last six words of doom.

My Inspiration

So, the question is, ‘Name one person who truly inspires you.’ And I think… At first, I feel nobody really inspires me but then I think again and the answer flashes back at me like a bolt of lightning. 

Now, I see images playing in front of me. The first image is that of a man, in his forties rocking on a chair and simultaneously reading a newspaper. His mind is enigmatic; nobody has ever gotten into the interiors of his brain. What he thinks, only he knows. He never lets you enter his mind, never lets you manipulate him. He’s not only smart but he’s more than smart. He thinks, he observes, he calculates and it never goes out of his system.

The second image that now plays is that of the same man. He’s now walking through a corridor, a long dingy one that leads to absolutely nowhere, but he walks and he walks endlessly. He trudges on not looking at his left or right and with a posture upright and again his mind is focused on what he wants. He wants it bad, but he’s patient. He has the ability to move on and move forward. He knows that the road he has taken is difficult, almost impossible but he moves on. Patience is a virtue known to only a few but he is one of them. Courage is a virtue which stays with only a few but I can proudly proclaim that he is one of them. The ability of getting things done the right way rests with only a selected and he is one of them.

As he moves on in the grimy, dingy, dimly lit corridor, he sees a door at the far end. He is curious but he doesn’t double up his pace. He keeps his cool. He walks forward. The door approaches but his mind is stable, unyielding and his excitement, shrouded. But then he opens the door and infinite rays hit his face and warm his skin. His face has a glow almost heavenly and I continue ogling at him as he attains his goal- his dream.

I see the spirit of human endeavour etched into his very soul. I see patience. I see courage. I see perseverance. I see all these traits bound together strongly and intrinsically in none other than my father, my inspiration.

The Unpleasant Surprise

Enter. Smile. Try to like the place now. It’s a little small as compared to your old apartment. At the same time, it’s away from the hideous slums. The stench that they raised would kill a dead rat all over again. But this is good. Sigh. It’s awesome. All this, with your own hard earned money. Good job Judith. You finally found your tiny little pretty house.’

Judith kept her thoughts buzzing as she looked at the studio apartment for the second time. At first she had thought it was too tiny as compared to the previous one but then it was also closer to her office and in a much better locality. The landlady, an old hag with a broken smile and limbs as huge as elephant legs showed her and her boyfriend Jason around the place.

There was a golden yellow lamp that hung just above the bed. It made the apartment look extremely welcoming and cozy. The bed was warm and soft, almost like it was built with a thousand feathers. She sank into the bed and looked at the 18.5 inch TV on the wall opposite it. The beige walls had bright yellow flowers embossed on them that made it look like an astonishingly radiant summer morning in open green fields. Her eyes then fell upon the chocolate brown wardrobe adjacent to her bed that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. It had finely carved wooden handles and an evenly polished surface. Happiness surged through her veins as she admired her new abode. On the extreme left was the baby pink refrigerator. It sat snugly in one corner of the room, without drawing too much attention towards itself. She looked at everything lovingly and instantly felt at home. This had to be better than perfect.

Jason had liked the apartment as well. It was in a better locality and the landlady didn’t mind visitors at odd hours. They had both been relieved when she expressed that. He had been her boyfriend for a good long seven years, which explained the relief.

Her only advice was to keep the little window above the bed tightly shut at all times. No questions were answered, they were only asked. So Judith decided to keep her verbal diarrhea to herself and made a mental note of being the ideal tenant for the lady with the elephant legs.

***

The featherbed cuddled her as she slept in it and before she knew it, the annoyingly loud alarm clock screamed into her left ear.  She scurried to do her everyday chores and ran to catch the office bus. As she got into the ride, she remembered that she had left the little window above the bed, wide open.

At first, she thought of going back, but then she shrugged off the thought.

***

‘Jason. I just got back home from work.  I think I just got robbed. Only, the funny part is nothing is missing. Everything is in such a mess. It’s stinking. There’s food all over. Can you come over please? I’m scared. Elephant legs isn’t opening the door nor answering my calls.’

The phone clicked and Judith ran to the bathroom and locked herself in it. That morning, she had woken up to rush through preparing a simple dinner to reach office on time. She loathed cooking at night. When she got back, the jars of jam were empty. The dinner had been gobbled up and there were remnants splattered everywhere. The crimson carpet had orange juice spilled over it, giving it a deeper shade. Whoever had broken into the house had made sure to devour all the food.

Her body turned cold as she waited for Jason. She could hear the clock ticking and the sweat of fear ran down her thighs, making way right down to her ankles. She strained her ears to hear any sounds but none came. Suddenly, she heard a piercing bawl. There was a dog, howling into the night. His howls were strong and near. The hair at the back of her neck stood up and her skin was turning pale yellow.

The doorbell rang and she ran to get it. She opened the door, hoping to see Jason’s affable face when she stood there facing her landlady.

‘How dare you be so careless? Didn’t I tell you not to keep the window open? I had warned you, you stupid stupid girl.’ She pushed her aside gruffly with her walking stick as she made way to enter the house. Judy gasped and opened her mouth when she cut her off sharply, ‘And no, don’t you go around asking me any questions. You live in my house. You have to follow my rules. The last time this lad left this house open, he faced the same problem. He told me he had made the evil go away. All I had to do was keep the damned window shut. This insolence will not be...’

Just then, the doorbell rang once again and Judy ran to find her love this time. She opened the door and fell into his strong arms.

‘Jason, look at this place. I don’t know why this happened or what caused it. I’m just so scared. Elepha.....I mean, landlady here says it’s the window...because I left the window open. I don’t want to live here. This is a bad place. It just looks pretty.’ She said all this in just one breath. Jason was gaping at her trying to decode everything she said as she gasped for air.

Then finally, he composed himself and spoke after what seemed like a century. ‘Listen to me Judy. I know it is unnerving to come home to this but trust me it’s all fine. Look at this place. It must have been an animal, a cat or something. Just calm down, ok? Be grateful that nothing is stolen or lost. Drink some water. Here. And I’ll stay here with you. It’ll be fine. I’m with you.’

As he started cleaning up the mess, Judy saw him casting sharp glances at her to make sure she was fine. Maybe she was over reacting. Maybe this was just an animal. But the landlady had spoken of some evil. What was she talking about? Why was she so stupid? Why did she hurry into this? She cursed herself loudly.

And then, suddenly before she knew it, the featherbed absorbed her lightly and she slept like a baby.

***

She woke up groggily the next morning, with Jason on one side. She didn’t remember elephant legs leaving the previous night but she had a long day ahead, so she shrugged off the memories of last night and got ready for office.

Jason left with her and they both made sure that the window was tightly shut.

***

It had been one month since she had moved into her new house. The first few days, she had been petrified but then it almost became a way of life.

She would come home, to find her food to be eaten or splattered on the walls and carpets. Who was this animal who was wolfing down everything? She had never tried searching for it though. On the other hand, her house was small. Nothing would go unnoticed. There was nothing in the house when she was there. It just magically appeared from thin air whenever she left for long hours. Sometimes, she decided to leave the house for 15-20 minutes and loudly exclaimed that she would be back in about 4-5 hours. It would always be the same scene. There would be no one there and the food would have been ravaged.

***

‘You have a soaring temperature Judy. Please listen to me this time. Just stay at home for a while. Rest a little. You seem stressed. I’ll come to meet you every day after work. But I don’t want you breaking your back over anything. You get me? Now, give me a hug,’ said Jason tenderly.

They spent a little more time, whispering sweet nothings to each other when Judy slipped into a dreamless nap.

Jason left her there, snoring slightly on her beautiful featherbed.

***

It had now been four days since she got out of her house. Her sunken cheeks and pale complexion showed that she had been suffering from a bout of flu but since her temperature refused to drop, Jason decided to take her to a doctor.

She had been lying down watching a movie and seeing some old pictures on her digicam when Jason entered the house.

‘We have to go to the doctor, Judy. Come on, get dressed fast. We have an appointment for 6 o’ clock today. You have half an hour. Hurry,’ he exclaimed.

‘But Jason, it’s just flu. I’ll be fine in a few days,’ she called out.

But there was no convincing him when he decided on something. So they got ready to leave. She made sure the window was shut tight and casually threw her digicam on the featherbed.

***

‘Not again,’ she thought. But didn’t express anything aloud. She had no time to worry about the same thing over and over again and was too sick to stress about it too.

Then something caught her eye. She remembered flinging the camera onto the bed. It wasn’t there anymore. It had vanished.

With a burst of sudden energy, she started searching for it. This had to be it. If someone was stealing her things, it was the end of it. She was going to find out.

‘Will you just stop being so paranoid? You’re sick God dammit, Judy. This is just pissing off now. You sit right there. Don’t move. You must’ve kept it somewhere else. I’ll look for it,’ cried Jason.

Before he could have completed the sentence, she found it lying in one corner of her studio apartment. It lay there amidst the few grains of brown rice that were carelessly dropped on the marble floor.

There was ketchup smeared on it. And embedded in it was an unmistakable finger print.

Her heart raced as she went to pick it up. She didn’t speak a word.

‘Give me that camera right now.’ Jason pulled it from her and out of her reach.

He took it and switched it on to see if it was working. She snatched it back from him and went to the last recorded section.

The earth beneath her feet slid as she looked upon an unknown, old man. His naked head and thick white mustache were both bestrewed with the ketchup. Her hands shivered as she clicked on the play button.

There was a deep moan and the man burst into horrid cries. He licked the ketchup off his hands and belched loudly. It was the worst sight ever. His eyes were a pale grey and his fingernails had black filth stuffed into them. He pressed a grubby finger on the camera screen and spoke, ‘Why did you torture me? Why? What have I done to you? You didn’t let me eat for four days. I was hungry. I needed food. Why didn’t you go out of the house? I hate you and I curse you. You don’t know me but I know you. I live here; I’ve been here for a month.’ Suddenly, his moans turned into loud, screeching laughter.

‘You don’t know this. You would’ve never known. But, I live under your bed.’

They both froze there. Nobody spoke or moved for the longest time. Nobody even tried to. They were both cold to the bone, the chills spreading steadily and swiftly through them. Instantly, everything made more sense. The open window, the evil that her predecessor had swept away, the food...everything fell into place. What sort of psycho was this?

Legs shivering, Judy moved towards her bed. She had never looked hard enough to find something or someone. Every time she came home from a long day, she would just be too scared to go back and look hard for the cause. She was just always too scared. She now knelt near her favourite part of the house, her featherbed and lifted the bed sheet to peak underneath.

As she ducked, she prayed there was no one and then in a heartbeat, a strong grubby hand came pelting out to grab her wrist.

She screamed.