◻Mysterious Miseries◻

Beware, oh masters, I can be a petulant friend and a blarney foe.
~ REGRETS.
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The gentle winds rushing through the inch-high square windows flipped the pages, compelling his palms to deter them. Beneath the golden lantern, his resurgent brown eyes hunted down the prints word by word with his thin fleshed lips curled between his teeth.

He was immersed in his world of reasons and negotiations over the facts he had been hunting for years all alone. Amidst the skating shifts, he halted at a specific phrase that lit up his senses.

Rereading it, he crossed his arm to grab the spiral notepad with neatly folded violet cover and peeping fluorescing flags. He pulled the blazing orange page titled 'Summary 89' only to sigh at the pointers, asterisks, and strikes, with red and blue dots speckled over his writing.

Unlocking the polished wooden drawer, he ruffled his fingers over the scattered bunch of stationary to pick the finger pen. Releasing the cap, he marked the analogous words with black dots.

Three out of twelve? Just one-fourth? His eyes widened at his thoughts.

"Tushant! You aren't lost. Just give it an attempt till the end." He patted his heart, syncing it to his deep breaths.

His eyes sunk low enough to read till the last line. His gritting teeth and fisted palms vented his ire to the whiffs of the wind clasped between them. With nothing more left, he slammed the book.

Has been a year of normalcy. She will be fine. Won't she?

"But I must know what the reason could be. Relapses do occur, and her brain is complex enough." He opened his fingers to gape at the sweat beads between his creases.

Over the years, the hunts lead nowhere. No known syndromes or conditions. Why won't she remember anything that could help me?

His moist hands ruffled his unkempt fringes.

Maybe it's time to move on.

He flattened his lips as his fingers lingered on the pushed-back book.

But moving on is a trap of the bullying past.

"Anna! Lost in the land of patients and strategies?" Her high-pitched, anger-dipped call pulled him out of his tangles.

Quick as a bee, he stacked the massive book in the teak wooden rack over his study table. Tidying the mess in front in a minute, he unlatched the door.

"What in the world have you been busy with? Can't you come out to dine at the right time any day?" Kimaya shrieked over the striking metallic twitches.

He peeked at her back to look at the ticking antique wall clock reading fifteen past eleven. When he set his eyes at the level of her chocolate brown, almond eyes, he could read their prankish rage.

"Alright! My mistake. Sorry, dra- Ahem, ahem. Sweet sist-"

"Drama queen? Ah? You are stressing much. I'm afraid you will soon need a psychologist." She crossed her arms over her blue-streaked white shirt.

"Ah, my princess, I'm sorry. And I promise to-"

"Nine ninety-five!" She sneered. Tushant lifted his furrowing, thick brows.

"You have not kept nine ninety-four promises, and here is the next one on the line. What a record-breaker you are!"

"Thousand sorries! Alright? I shall set a reminder from today." He pinched his earlobes to assure her.

With no reply, her fast strides echoed in the aquamarine-veined grey walls. Tushant followed her once he locked the simple oak door.

"Kimaya! You look good today. This shirt and blue pyjama-"

"It is palazzo, and it isn't blue. It's azure!" She sighed and resumed her steps, quicker than before.

Better be silent! Tushant mused between his solitary slow strides.

He reached the steel utensil crowded brown table and drew the black wood ladder-back chair, making the floor howl its agony.

"Manners, Tushant!" Her nudges made him roll his eyes.

Even under the dim-lit amber lights of the buttercup chandelier, he could see her cheeks bubble.

She and her tiffs! He smirked as he reached for the white melamine plate.

"Just one? Did you dine already?"

"You think of yourself as the king?" She threw her hands to the sides as her cheeks turned crimson.

"Alright. Let me eat then." He rubbed his hands to conceal his irks.

He placed six idlis and some spoons of grated coconut chutney. Dipping the fraction of idly in thick white chutney, he mashed the flavors into a heap. When he lifted his arms to devour, he could hear her soft hums. He then knew what he must do.

He turned his hands towards her. She readily ate even before he could feed her right.

"Such a liar!" He held her stealing arm.

"Not than you," she said as she gobbled from her hand.

Before he could swallow his three mouthfuls, she had almost emptied the plate.

"I'm all set to sleep. I'm going up." She worded them fast, giving him no space.

"And next time, if you are late, then you will get nothing. That would be your punishment." She pinched his nose, making him scream like a five-year-old.

Rubbing off his tips, he opened the chafing dish only to find two more idlis left.

"You are such a devil in disguise, Kimaya!"

"No! I'm the devil's sister," her faraway voice answered. When Tushant picked his words, the thud of the door cut him short. Breathing out his erratic sighs, he chewed down the remaining in solitary.

As he washed his plates, he heard the harsh growling of his stomach. His eyes strolled over the stacked bottles and containers behind the glass doors. A wooden basket kept over the repaired melamine vase lit him up.

How about two oranges? Or three? A wide smile crept up his lips. Inclining the plate on the kitchen ledge, he rushed to grab the fruits.

He went through the curved lilac-walled halls to sit over the recliner chair on the veranda surrounded by the criss-cross grids. He took his hypnotic swirl cased phone out of his green cargo to see if anything needed his attention. Noticing that it was just another day, he turned on the violin instrumental playlist.

The wintery shrubs of euphorbia and pink sea petunias wiggled to the tunes of clement summer winds. He peeled the oranges and chewed the pulp relishing as the bass rang in his ears.

Appeasing his hunger, he rested his head over his crossed arms to watch around. Shifting his eyes in an arch from left to right, he could sense nothing different. When he rebounded his gaze to his phone, he noticed a silhouette standing at the third bolstered balcony of the opposite lawn.

Is it him? But when did he return?

He mused as he studied his deep ebonic eyes and unkempt curls merely visible from the glistening goblet glimmering under the yellow lights. Tushant kept looking at his clanky moves as he piled nine empty bottles in three rows.

"Nine in a night! La la la la-"

Nine in a night? Drunkard maniac!

His frisky thoughts tried to harmonize the spirit-spirited man's shaky moves to the upbeat bass he heard. As the tempo tiptoed faster, he saw him whirl with the swan-necked bottle. His lips pouted while his hands nuzzled the bottle.

Damn, his craziness is terribly funny!

When the music ended with a screeching rush of tunes, he heard a clink. He took off his earphones only to realize that his bottle had sought a cureless stage.

"Oh my baby, shit! You broke!"

His mourning expressions made Tushant laugh louder.

"Am I a harlequin to you?"

Tushant's laughs ceased into bursts of giggles. He slipped his phone into his cargo and tilted his head to calm down.

"Bloody humans!" He yelled and disappeared before Tushant could react.

That's rude! Such an arrogant brat!

Feeling too crammed, Tushant got in and locked the door. He turned off every light on the way to his room.

Alcoholic arrogance should be an unforgivable offense. Huh!

He shook his head to clear the upsetting thoughts. He then emptied his pockets and removed his coral-studded ring. Making his ocean wave sheets wrinkle-free for one last time, he sunk into his pudgy mattress, wreathing the soft cotton blanket. For one last time, he looked at the beige block prints on the faded amber walls. His eyes then fell upon the wall-fixed sundial clock.

Half-past twelve. Nothing ambiguous. Phew, Hari Hara!

A wave of relief relaxed his erratic beats. He turned off his coral night lamp, letting the quieting black settle everywhere.

As his heavy eyes curtained, a sharp, loud noise reverberated in his ears. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, alarming his lapsed lids. But he felt nothing odd for the following few minutes.

Perhaps a hypnagogic hallucination!

He took the bottle to guzzle down some water. Before the dribbles could glide down his gut, he heard some grating clinks. His little finger twitched with every frequency that echoed in his ears. Gulping down his panic, he bundled his sheets to the sides and unlocked his door.

But his heart almost stopped. He saw a wavy shadow creeping on the polished floors through the clearing of the raven wooden door, as the clock kept ticking.

FOOTNOTE:

Anna: Tamil word for elder brother.

Idly: South Indian cuisine made by steaming salted rice batter.

Chutney: Coconut paste containing some salt and chilies. It is garnished with oil-fried mustard, urad dal, and curry leaves.

Hypnagogic hallucination: Hallucinations are seen when the body is asleep or while trying to sleep.

Leave your musings and comments.

Ever in your memory,
🪢Yaris🪢