Thursday, June 21, 2012

Avenge with deeds what words can't


He moved his finger across each letter and read it twice in the dim light. The pulse near his neck throbbed with excitement. The mind was at play and it devised a plan meant for things that were not supposed to be natural. He had known about it all this time but this moment confirmed his existed doubts. The footsteps outside the door grew louder and in a sudden reflex, he threw the bottle into the draw and skirted the things on the floor to move towards the door. This time there would be no mistakes.

_____________________________________________________________________

He squirmed when Mrilani pulled his cheeks.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
He was tired of lying. It hurt the interiors of the head and filled his body with annoyance. But he knew better when to hide the emotions as he faced his fiancé.
He grinned at her.
‘Pathetic woman’, he thought to himself and grinned more.
“Of course…”, he began
Mrilani looked away and waved at someone across the road. He visibly showed relief when he saw Ruchi.
He noted that she looked as fragile as ever but always had a good dressing sense. She wore dark blue jean and red t shirt. The stiletto gave a lift to her miniature figure.
Ruchi and Mrilani’s were childhood friends. They had done their education together starting from the pre KG. Mrilani considered her as a family member and that understanding was mutual.
“Hi Mrilu! Hi Rohit!”, she squealed at them.
He kept looking at her and began to some show some respect. He had to, for she was the key to all his problems.
“Hi”, he finally said.


______________________________________________________________________
“You didn’t wish me at sharp 12! How could you get forget it? “, she screamed with teary eye.
The drama began to unfold and he was helpless.
“Ruchi was the first one to call. She has been doing that for past 15 years! Why can’t you be more responsible and show some care? “, she wailed.
He bolted his anger and just went to hug her. She pushed him away.
He clenched his teeth.
This wouldn’t have happened in the first place if both their families’ business had to come together for a greater cause. He knew that he shouldn’t have agreed to the proposal. But it wasn’t his fault. Mrilani’s parents pulled him away from his blissful life; from his love. They had promised him more and better life. The future was decorated with money that collected over generations and he was the only heir.
He thought of his lost lover’s face and stood for moment in the place like all the world’s odd was against him.
Mrilani and her parents made him swear to the falsified riches and fame and now, ‘they’ will repay.
___________________________________________________________________

She was meddling with her bag’s handle. He looked into her eyes to emphasize what he was saying. She didn’t look up but stared into the emptiness.
‘Things were smooth as planned’, he thought to himself.
She trembled and searched for it frantically in her bag.
He didn’t stop talking choosing his words carefully. He reiterated things that were very necessary to cause the results.
“It can be!” she said in a shaky voice. “Mrilani is my best friend.” She continued searching.
“I am her fiancĂ©, Ruchi”, he replied in a smooth clear voice that convinced, “why would I lie to you?”
That broke her down. The bottle that she was searching was not to be found. She shivered, snatched her bag and trotted.
The same stiletto that lifted her figure was now giving her away to the crowd in the restaurant with its clanking sound.
____________________________________________________________________
Ruchi searched for the bottle. It was not in its place.
She didnt believe Rohit. The truth was she didnt want to believe him.
The bed appeared and disappeared in front of her eyes. She felt dazed again.
'I have this disease. I was born with it. I will die with it. I will never know what is truth and lie.'
What if Rohit was truthful and Mrilani was right?
Did she deserve to be her friend? Were all the years together a fairy tale that she only has imagined?
She imagined a lot. A lot that she couldn't recognize between reality and lie.
Maybe Mrilani deserved better friend and better life. She couldn't interfere with Mrilani's life. There was nothing much that she could do except one, move away from her for life. And it had to be forever and permanent.
'Yes, I am tired of truth and lie. I shall end it once for all'
'Rohit was telling the truth. Mrilani didn't deserve such a sickening friend.She should go away as far as possible.
She pulled out a notepad and began to write.
It stared with "Dear Mrilani, For greater good......"
_____________________________________________________________________

“Please, you have to believe me, aunty”, Mrilani justified.
Ruchi’s mother wiped her tears and passed on the paper that was folded into four.
Mrilani was perplexed.
The silence in the house was even more haunting. One suicide was enough to haunt the place but the mystery of the death added to the eeriness of the situation.
He took the paper before Mrilani could. He was aware of the contents but reading it would give him the vengeance he had yearned for. The satisfaction grew bounds.
Mrilani snatched the paper. She began to cry half way into the suicide letter of Ruchi.

________________________________________________________________
“The girl had schizophrenia and only Mrilani knew it”, his father claimed.
“But we can’t claim anything based on the contents of the letter. We have known Mrilani’s parents all our lives. The family can be trusted”, his mother argued.
“The whole town calls her psycho because she made her best friend commit suicide by creating some inferior complex. You want our son to marry her?” his father fumed
.“It is too early to judge anything now. Let us give some time”, his mother continued.
“I am not getting my son married to any mentally ill woman. She could be charged of murder of another woman. I don’t want to be associated to the family of murderers”, his father closed the case.
His mother didn’t reply.
He looked at them. The agony and frustration began to yield. Every minute of the scene that had occurred two years ago flashed before his eyes.
He remembered vividly the words from his girlfriend’s letter. Mrilani’s father spoke such words that made her commit suicide. He called her names that no woman could have tolerated.
Had he known it before the fateful night, things could have been averted.
Now, Mrilana would be called names by everyone. It would pierce throughout her life. She deserved it for what her father did to his life.
He ran upstairs and started to cry. But they were tears of joy.

_________________________________________________________________

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Fag fades


Dear human form,

And every one who reads and relates to oneself.

We have habits. Certain habits those are iterative and form our daily menu. They are despicably what makes us and what we own. They are our skin and to tear them away is painful. One such is smoking.

I think a million times before I really try to describe a smoker. I am careful not to call them ‘yield to pressure’ or ‘actually not so cool’. I cannot have opinions because, in this case, the habit does not make the person.
The commodity on the lips leaves a dark mark. Arguments begin right here. There are better qualities of cigarettes that don’t leave a mark. So, nullifying what cannot be seen is right? Then, why did my oldest cousin suffer from lung cancer?

I cannot advise and don’t want to either. I am not going to copy paste a diagram of lung affected from smoking. It doesn’t make sense because the number of smokers is only on rise.

Everyone teenager loves independence. They are rebellious in their decisions. They want to stand alone and fight the world. But I wonder what happens to these people when they are with their friends? Why do they ‘pick’ a habit if they consider themselves old enough to decide things on their own?

Cigarette is a pleasurable gratification and mental satisfaction. You never feel alone when you hold on to the sixth finger. You are never left alone. The smell lingers on you for a long time whatever you do. It becomes your everyday deodorant. At night, your head is heavy and lungs seem to be stuffed with cotton that you can’t breathe properly. But it is ok; you endure all for that momentary pleasure.

We are all conscious of what we wear but never on what we hold. Smoking never sends a message of blending into the society. It really doesn’t mean you are sociable. Worst of it, it makes you vulnerable. At the end of the day, you are the slave of addiction. You are flexible for the master; you smoke when it urges you 
and you beg when it commands.

Why do you run so much when smoking helps you break down calories? Why do you keep a check on what you eat? How does it matter, anyway?

Why do you drag everyone into the affair with it? Why am I inhaling it when you are smoking? Why am I sharing the burden? It didn’t teach children the good things or send messages of healthy habit. It didn’t help to teach the future that it was one of the habits that have to be picked up. It tarnishes your teeth, mouth and health but then, you have a remedy and half a dozen surgeries to overcome all that.

The money spent on the mistress is only meagre for the pleasure she gives you. So, shower the savings on her and welcome all the side effects.

Nobody said quitting was for someone else. It is for you. It is for your health, image, loved ones; all for making the best things for you.

Does it hurt to say no to something that never was going to help you anyway?

I am forcing you to do something. I am not forcing you to decide. You, with the education and knowledge, know better.

Yours truly,
Do you care?