Berated

Arti's gaze was fixed at the little pink teddy bear in the other corner of the room. She did not know what to do with it now. Should she throw it away, along with those numerous letter and those greeting cards that she had so carefully hidden in the umpteen number of books that she had savoured. Did she want to cry or talk to someone. Did she want to open the laptop and watch some videos on Youtube. Did she want to see a movie? Her mind was going blank and she did not know how to come out of this situation. Was it cursed to remain blank forever now. Why did the world appear so uninteresting today, she wondered.

She covered her face with the blanket again and looked at her phone. It was another blank gaze. Is he going to call she wondered. Is he going to drop a message. Should she call him and ask him if he could meet her again, just once maybe. She would do everything right this time, she would correct herself to the extent that everything about her would appeal to him. She would allow him to go down on her. She would allow him to remove her panties and have sex with her. Where had she gone wrong she wondered. Why had she been rejected? Was she so unattractive, was her life so dishonest that he could not find his truth in it. Was she boring? Did she lack humour to entertain him? What was it? She scrolled through all the messages, she wanted to read alteast one of them, but she had lost her ability to discern. She wanted him, but she she hated him for what he had done to her. 

She removed the quilt and went inside the bathroom. She looked at herself in the lifesize mirror which adorned one wall in next to basin. She washed her face, and looked at herself. Lack of sleep had made her ugly, there was dark circle beneath her eyes. There was something absolutely detestable about her face today. She wondered if she was glowing because of love, because of her belonging to Akash, and today, when he was not a part of her life she had gone back into her darkness. Into the truth that she had to face, was he just an illusion which made her feel beautiful, the illusion that Cinderella had when she met the prince. Maybe that was it but she hated herself like this. There was venom in her, and there was love. She should show him what she is capable of, she should do something spectacular to make him feel that he had committed a mistake by allowing her to go. She pulled the liver of the shower, and allowed the water to completely drench her. She was still wearing her clothes, but how did she care? She looked at that twinkled in front of her eyes. The layer of tears were being mixed with the layers of water. She removed all that she had worn and slowly unleashed the layers of pain which were bound by the glue of her own helplessness. She could bear no more to be a victim of a situation which she realized she couldn't actually help. The falling water appeared soothing after a while, she looked at herself in the mirror again. She looked beautiful without clothes of self pity that she had tried to cover herself with, but still something remained, she knew it wasn't so easy, it wasn't so normal, so explicable, the burden which she had so suddenly taken over herself. Life wasn't so clear, it still appeared hazy as the water took the shape of droplets over her lashes and suddenly immersed into her eyes, but she had found some strength to live, to do something worthwhile. She pulled the liver again, and the shower responded. She gathered her being and decided to remain sane. She prayed that some up there give her the strength to rebuild and pulled out the bathrobe.

Arti walked back into her room and looked at the teddy bear again, she should keep it she thought, just as a memory perhaps. The letters needed to be burnt. She couldn't build a life with them haunting her forever with their presence. She looked at her phone again, with some apprehension this time. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see his call or message. She wanted to get rid of him now, maybe, move on. She unlocked the screen to notice a couple of missed calls. Akash, the screen read. She felt her heart beat hard. What did he want of her now? She looked at the number again and realized she should call back. The phone rang and rang forever till it was picked up by another voice, a voice with which she was familiar but did not expect at the other end. "Hi Arti, Don't know what to tell you, I know there was some problem between you and Akash but I think you should know this. He had met with an accident, and has been hit on his head, the blood flow is too much. He may not survive. We are in Lifeline. You may come if you want to". Her heart skipped a beat. She had told him so many times that he should wear the helmet, but he would not listen to her, she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Thanks Rahul I'll see if I can make it" She hung up on him as soon as she said this and looked at her wardrobe. Her gaze fell on her laptop on the bed. She looked at the wardrobe again, there was a hard disc in here. There were a few unfinished movies she realized. She could watch one of them.

Attention Seeker!

He climbed up the stairs to his room which was on the first floor of the duplex, he had rented this apartment a few months back and the landlord had promised him that he won't mind if Rahul comes late. But slowly he had started tightening the noose of time over his life, 10.30 is too late, everyone's asleep by then, who'll open the main gate for you? What do you do so late at night? I never knew that you were into things that could be done only so late otherwise I would have never rented this apartment, and each day he listened to him and walked off.  He was now used to hearing these discourses everyday but  today he was not in a mood to listen to anyone, how could she? he thought. It has been a year and a half and she had not called him or met him, and today when he saw her at the parking and approached her she just did not seem to recognize him! How can something like this happen? Did he not tell her that she would be the last in his long list of girlfriend, did he not tell her that he would die if she ever ditched him, and she with those looks in her eyes, those innocent dove shaped eyes nodded in affirmation, let leave those thoughts of freedom he did not want her back now, but what happened to the love? Where had that sublimed?
The landlord was just about to say something, but Rahul looked straight into his eyes, his own eyes were blood red, and knew he could keep at bay a vague statement or two by showing them, and he did. The landlord opened his mouth but speech did not find a way through it. It was different night he realized, but might still have underestimated the weight of the situation.
He opened the lock, the big Nav-Tal which had been given as a part of the rent, one key always remained downstairs, 'incase' the one with Rahul got misplaced, but Rahul knew that the room was being used, that was a matter, but of little concern when he realized that he could not help the situation anyway..
He looked up there was this loop stuck in concrete protruding from in the roof for the fan, it was meant to be quite strong, he wondered if this was his fate, everyone, his parents, his girlfriend, his friends might have loved him at one point of time or another but there was no one around, perhaps they were too busy, even the people he had shared so many smiles were too occupied for him, his girlfriend did not have the courtesy to hug him, when she saw him. What the worth of his own life? What was the point in living he asked himself?
He again looked at the loop, trying to imagine the grid of steel that kept the roof aloft, it was very strong his father had told him once, strong enough to keep another brick-house afloat over it, surely Rahul's weight was less, it could manage it without much effort on his frame.
He looked at his phone, perhaps there would be someone who will be keen on listening to him, for a few minutes, he went through the list of numbers in his contacts, 'Priya' was one of them. He looked at the diplay for a few minutes and touched the number. The phone showed a very beautiful picture of Priya, one that he took while she was still with him, a couple of years back that is, he heard her phone ring even though the loud-speaker was not turned on. There were some 20 rings that he counted, and then the familiar voice, "The person whom you are calling is not picking up the phone". He had made up his mi nd and he was going to execute his plan. He still browsed the phonebook, a lot of other people, some of whom will pick his call anyway, but he did not feel like talking to them, some of them would still not pick up his call, not understand the emergency, if he told them his state of mind they'd call his parents, or call some help, but not listen to him, not try to help him in this situation, not come to him, but they said they loved him, so perhaps they'd cry a tear or two, they'd think about him, about his life for a few minutes, they'd atleast remember him. The thought seemed very satisfying to him and he took the rope that he had kept for emergency. a strong nylon rope that could hold his weight. He looked around for a pedestrial, and found it in the form of TV stand, perhaps it would break, but that is the least he was bothered about today. He climbed up the stand but the look was still far away from him, he tried to through the rope and to his dismay his target was precise in the very first attempt. This was his fate and the cosmos was helping him realize it. He gathered the other end and wondered what to do with it, with some fumbling he got it right, precisely the way it should be, this was his end and he cared little about anything else.
He stood waiting, for some intervention, but there was silence all around him. There was nothing that could distract him any further. He held the nooze in his hands, felt the strength of the rope. Tried to pull it towards him, but the rope was strong, stronger than him. This non-living thing could make his life meaningless. Non-living. He felt his feet once. He would have to jump up and try to push the TV stand away, only then would he be able to suspend himself. Like life, death too came only by a plan, he wondered where did all the plans of life go? Did he not have a plan anymore? Could he not go to Priya's place and ask her once, if she could just as much as speak to him. Ask him if life could take another chance? The nooze formed a loop around his neck.But he could still go back and live. But her image of today did nothing to help the situation. It kept coming before him. His frame which was interrupting the light from the CFL was casting a shadow and in that shadow he was already dead. Suspended by the taut nylon that he had chosen as the means to achieve is ultimate objective of life. He realized that he could still live. He could still hope and he could still believe. He could make himself believe that Priya wasn't worth it. He lowered his head, the nooze tightened around his throat, hurting him, but he could not worry about these pains when the question of life itself appeared before him. He asked himself if this was his defeat. Rahul, couldn't be defeated. The rope which was hurting his throat had now tightened enough to press a nerve which may have lead to him losing his vision. Or perhaps it was a purely mental act. He realized what he was upto and dramatically tried to raise his arms to remove the rope. The disturbance was enough to shake the TV stand and eventually rupture it, before his hands could move and help himself alive. He tried to find firm ground where he could balance himself but there was none. He was atleast 3 feets above the floor, and was suspended by his neck from the roof. There was nothing that he could do about it except raise his hands swift enough to catch hold of rope and stop it from throttling his wind pipe. But his hands ceased to be in his control and the dark got darker. The light was losing its sheen. He was about to be dead. He heard something but couldn't make out what it was. The world had blackened. There was no life.
Rahul found himself in the midst of white sheets, his vision had still not come back properly, everything appeared misty to him. Everything appeared white.He thought he had traveled the distance, to the other world. The misty world that he had so much heard about. Till a familiar voice broke the silence that had surrounded him. "Will everything be fine doctor?", "I can make out that this chap tried to commit suicide!", "Oh no, it was an accident. He was trying to hand the ceiling fan which the rope tied around him to avoid falling", "Around the neck?" the doctor asked cynically. The landlord did not reply. He did not know what he could say. He just came to Rahul and lovingly touched his forehead with his rough hands and then started caressing his hair.

Vendetta

"Forgive me, Please", he said, stressing on 'P', while I looked at him with a heart as cold as ice, with eyes that radiated fury, with arms that were not ready to listen to my mind, I did not ask him to do anything, he did it on his own, he tried to get back onto his feat, whimpering in the process, avoiding any kind of eye contact with me, and I stood right in front of him, seeing him negotiate the force of gravity, I allowed him to lift himself up a bit, and struck his hips with a fierce blow of my belt, which was itself showing signs of rupture, "Help me, don't try to kill me, please", again he stressed on 'P', and I was enjoying the game, his 'please' were bringing a sadistic joy to my being, I nodded my head when he tried to look up at me, subtly making an assertion that there wasn't a tomorrow for him, his end was eminent, and he was at my mercy, I struck the belt hard again, on his nose this time, and he cried in pain, covering his left eye and the nose to get rid of the sudden agony from the blow. "Why Ankur? Why are you doing this?", I half smiled to myself, Karma I thought, his answers were not in words that he expected out of me, his answers were in his own actions, "Why did you do that with me Abhishek?", I spoke monotonously, without bringing any emotion, I was not going weak looking at his condition.

"Why did I do what? You are walking, your arm is fine now, but what you are doing to me will make me invalid", he asserted shamelessly. "Negotiating! Are you? Trying to tell me that what you did could not result in a permanent injury and that is why I should forgive you? Why did you hit me with belt over my injured elbow when I asked you not to? When I said that we are not enemies. When I said that its paining like hell. Why did you hit me then? Did I not tell you that I will return and inflict harm to you, that I would make you fear my existence one day? Why did you not believe me then?"

He started sobbing, crying like a little schoolgirl, "Mistake" he whispered, his pain was making him confess his crime, "Abhishek, Ankur never forgets or forgives, he lets you be, till you forget him, and then he strikes", I told him again, I told him this when he hit me with a belt for the third time that day, but off course pride did not give way to sanity then, today there was no pride, only rationality between us, the enemies who never were.

"I am sorry Ankur, tell me a way in which I can make amends, I would clean your shoes for the rest of our lives if you insist, but leave me now, allow me to go, please", the 'p' again, and I struck him with the belt again, on his head this time, he fluttered like a injured dog, his screams were piercing my ear, but were not affecting my hands while I continued to hit him, "Go, go away" I said, "you've had enough and make this personal and you shall not be forgiven", for once I thought I should show some mercy, block me out of this revenge that I was inwardly enjoying.

He got up, limping he walked away from me, and when he thought he was safe he turned back to see me in the eye, "You'll see the consequences", the rage was clear but it was mixed with fear, I asked Rohan to start his bike, and he did, while I rode pillion, rushing towards Abhishek as he tried running seeing that I wasn't done, but his hips were rather damaged to allow him to achieve such physical feats, "You have the guts?" I asked as I neared him, and hit him again on his hips, much stronger than I attempted to earlier, the belt broke into two pieces, and he fell on the ground, the impact was tremendous, there was a loud noise and some small sharp stones pierced his face, the blood oozed out and I hit him again on his face this time, he did not know what to hold, how to ease himself out of the pain that would have been unbearable now. "Leave him Ankur, he'd die", Rohan said calmly, but I was not done, I spit on his face, once, twice, "Touch me, or any of my men again, and I'd do this to you in front of your parents", I told him, Rohan reversed the direction of the bike and I hopped in, looking back at Abhishek, but he did not attempt looking at us, the only time our eyes met, for a split second, I again spit on the road

I love you

“I love you”, she whimpered again, as if loaded with the weight of her own emotions, exhausted by the session of intercourse we had a good 15 minutes back, while I half-lay on mattress, with a pillow to support my back, naked except for the thin dirty white sheet that covered my groin, with a cigarette in one of my hands, and a bottle of beer in the other. I had no business to listen to her, to her constant rumblings, “what don’t you believe me?”, she lifted her eyes this time, high enough to meet mine, keen to decipher an answer from my expressions. I just raised my left brow, encasing in it the gesture, a doubt of a lifetime,  “What’s wrong with you?” she grumbled again. I sipped from the bottle bear, my cigarette had all converted into ash. I threw it nearby on the floor, “You look like the man who took away my virginity.” I could not still motivate myself to speak. She started running her hands over my thighs, holding my thick black pubic hair in her fingers, pushing them around, as if trying to arrange something into order. 

“What are you trying to do?” I said calmly, still not retaliating her confession. “I am trying to love you more.” I smacked her hand, hurting myself, as she surprised me by pulling it off just in time. “Ahh,” I had hit really hard I realized. “Don’t try to love me, you can’t love anyone.” I said, overlooking the sudden streak of pain, She abruptly moved, lay herself again my body, “I can love, and I love you.”
I pushed her down, smacking hard at her naked breasts. This was her time of pain, and she lay in front of me holding her chest tightly, “What the fuck, why are you becoming violent?”, “You are loving me a bit too much today, have you forgotten who you are?”
She lay there breathing hard, trying to create some drama to grab my attention. “Yes, I am a bitch, I get fucked for money.” She squealed in a shaky voice, still trying to continue the drama and breathing hard whenever she thought she could hold my attention. “Don’t dare raise your voice Smita, you know what could be the consequences.” She managed to get out of her hard breathing and attacked me like a wild cat, ready to tear me into pieces with her over grown nails, I tried holding her, but still one nail dug deep into the skin of my chest, and dragged the wound to my stomach, I could see a red lining appear on my stomach, this was enough of an excuse I thought, I pushed her back, this time holding both her hands in my wrists, and pushing her legs down underneath mine, I shoved my manhood into her vagina, rammed it again, eating and tearing her breasts with my teeth, with my mouth, by the time I had finished her whole body was full of deep scars, and her body vibrated with orgasms.
I always knew pain and pleasure went together. Its just that today by inserting the love thing in between, both pain and pleasure were achieved by stern violence.
I could not get up for a minute or so, while she lay buried by the weight of my body. I moved away to lie on my back, while she tried to escape out of my clutch by lifting my hands and legs which still lay over her. She sat down and took a couple of sips of the beer, still breathing hard, I knew I had given her a chance to be really disgruntled, an escape from her feeling of love, who could love her tormentor? Who would like a rapist?
She slowly stood up, tried to cover her nakedness with the bed sheet and limped towards the bathroom. There was a moment of loneliness that appeared, the heavy ceiling fan which was rotating with speed of a bicycle tyre appeared to be my only aide in this heinous crime, I knew it was the one which witnessed everything, but did not come to aid Smita.
“Whom are you looking at, you freak, what can you do? I overpower woman at my own will, you can’t do anything about it.” I told the fan, while it kept on rotating at the same speed, unfazed by my challenge, undeterred in its determination to provide me air irrespective of the side that I stood for. It did not have a life I realized, it can do nothing, my thoughts strayed to the person who had life, and could not do anything about the situation either.
I walked across to the bathroom, the door was open, the dim yellow light appeared to be washing the floor of all the filth and puke that had accumulated in years, or perhaps decades, while Smita sat on the seat, crying, loud enough for the light, the puke and filth to notice, but perhaps my fan helped me in not hearing this damn noise.
I went over to her and lifted her face, wiped out the tears which were still flowing down her cheeks, “you wont find solace here Ankur, leave me for good. I am of no use to you, and there is nothing useful for me in the wounds that you’ve given to me.” I did not know but I did not even think about the single red mark that appeared as a red lining on my stomach.
I went over to the room, the fan was still rotating, picked up my clothes, wore them, and was about to walk out of the door when I heard her say, “You know what? I still love you, you look like the man who took me the first time”. I walked across the door, banged it shut, and walked down the stairs.

Prose definition: 10.08.2011