Friday, August 25, 2006 

Who Can It Be Knocking At My Doors ?

The knocking at the door seemed to be distant sound from some other world. It took some time for her as she came out of her trance like a diver jumping out of the depths and desperately craving for the extra air in the lungs. That interval must have infuriated the visitor, for the knocking had now gone up the decibel level. It was no longer a gentle polite knock but harsh banging determined to throw off the hinges.

With all the curtains drawn across the windows the room was dark enough for guesswork to succeed in finding out the time. She tried to look at the watch to check out what time it was only to remember that the battery had died out only last night. Groping for her slippers with her legs and the switch with her hands she was able to find both of them simultaneously.

"Who is it there........”, she waited for a moment for the answer. There was no response except for the banging. May be just to stop the intruder from breaking in she added intuitively "Hold it for a moment".

As she let out the words fly her lips, she realized that her mouth was both dry and sour. It always tastes like this when you wake up, till the daily rubbing of the toothpaste washes away the acrid taste. She paused for a moment to get a glass of water, but then heard the banging which was even louder and decided to attend the visitor first.

She was rushing down towards the main hallway when she was noticed the wall clock showing that it was half past two in the night. "Who can it be knocking at my doors", she thought these exact words just to remember a long forgotten song with the same lyrics. Instantly the blurry music from the song was ringing at the back of her head. She tried to remember the rest of the lines.

She kept on asking "Who's there....who is it..." without another human voice answering her among the repeated thuds on the door frame. The rest of the 2 minutes brisk walk to the door was only speculation of the identity of the unknown visitor.

Could it be the guy who dumped her couple of months back without any reason, even though she was expecting one from the already dead relationship? Could it be in a drunken mood he finally realized that he still misses her and decided to come back to her in the middle of the night? But then why didn't he answer her....intoxication and shyness doesn’t glue well....and the violent banging was the last thing a returned lover would retort to.

Could it be someone trying to harm her, like a strangler in pursuit of his next victim? Or may be it could be some homeless junkie in need of cash for the next dope. But surely no psychopath in whatever demented state he might be would be idiot enough to wake up the whole neighborhood before crashing in. May be somebody is asking for her help.

Maybe someone with a broken down car wants to dial for the pick-up van from her house. And then she realized that whoever it might be, whatever the visitor's intention could be, she shouldn't be caught unguarded. It’s time to look for the weapon nearest at hand.

Where did I leave my pepper spray....damn it is in my handbag...and where did I leave the handbag? It is in the bedroom, she remembered. But by the time she would complete a trip back to her bedroom the doors would be knocked down from the frames. Let me grab the flower vase on the table and open the door, she thought as she stretched her hand towards it.

Nearly at the same moment the door burst open to let two strong men with boxes looking like first-aid kit rushing towards her bedroom. They were running as if they were racing against time and didn't even bother to look at her. Furious she started screaming at the two intruders while she followed them to their destination, her bedroom. Surprisingly not a single moment they even looked over their shoulder and caste a glance at her.

She confronted her unwelcome guests who were panting for breath and looking hopelessly at her bed. She let out a shrill cry as she collapsed down with the chilly hollowness enveloping her. The rest of the lyrics came back with a flash when she realized that lying on her bed was her own body.

“Is it the man come to take me away?
Why do they follow me?
It's not the future that I can see,
It's just my fantasy…………..”

Friday, August 18, 2006 

The Last Wish

"Certain things are much better if left unexplained", it was scribbled on the suicide note.

The Inspector in charge of the investigation smiled cynically.Now it was his job to see that the last wish of the deceased should not be fulfilled. His trained eyes were already searching for the clues.

Monday, August 07, 2006 

Just like that.....

In his alcohol fuelled modest monologues he urges her desperately to forget whatever happened in the past. His sober self refuses proudly to participate in the scripted dialogue with her on the next morning. She reads his plea in his eyes, his voice. Yet she fails again and again to reply with her eyes, her voice.

She had waited for him to call back. He was not sure whether she would like to see him again. Now after so many solitary moons he can still recall her face in every vivid detail. But he no longer remembers her number or the poem he wrote for her. She still remembers the poem to the exact words but never feels the urge in her to call him back. A possibility shaped in the fabric of time and then like a bubble just burst leaving no trace.

His favourite colour was passionate blue. Her favourite was passionate yellow. By the rules of optics the two shades should intermingle to form lively green. Yet when they finally embraced passionately, the back-drop blurred to steely grey.

The back-drop had faded to steely grey, depicting the loneliness of souls.