Has anyone experienced living death?

The time when you're alive, breathing but incapacitated. When an intense terror of an unknown yet known completely paralyses and commands. At that very moment, you witness the consciousness slipping away, fading into distant oblivion. And you watch immobilised, helpless while fear reigns supreme.

I beheld my awareness bidding goodbye. The surroundings evanesced, gradually blackening out. In the receding glow of light, I knew I lost balance and the cold marble floor waited inviting. Yet, warm hands prevented the fall.

"So, even the stars die!" the person joked.

His chuckle failed to induce any jest, I blinked into steadiness; the sudden encounter was no less than a shocker.

"Why..why are you here?" I asked in a daze.

"Surprised? I thought you would be amused?" he quipped.

I jerked out of his grip, retreated into a comfortable distance, statued against the opposite wall. He approached-a lion prowling in the bush, and the more he closed in, the narrower the corridor got, shrinking further until a slice of space remained. Grasping my shoulders he snarled, yet the twinkle in those eyes refused to dwindle.

"Let go. I should be heading back." I pushed.

"This early?" He teased. "Afraid of your husband? Come on! You're not that type. Who knows it better than me?"

"Let me go, or else-"

"Else what, Sreya? You're the one standing on an edge, remember?"

"Careful!" I snapped. "One wrong move and you will be accused of manhandling a woman in public. This is a respectable place, are you in dire need of another scandal? Wasn't the one four years back a wake-up call?" I gripped his wrist, digging my nails into the flesh until his mouth twitched with pain. "Think twice before messing with me." I hissed.

"And you assume I still care?" his teeth clashed against each other while the force on my shoulder multiplied. "After everything you put me through? You're wrong. I have every information, each one of them. And I, like you, have learnt to place my cards right. So, don't fuck like the last time. I have nothing to lose but, you have much to gain."

The words cut sharp, razor-sharp. Still, I maintained a defiant face.

"Wednesday evening 5.30 at Jodhpur Park-"

"You're a child if you think I'll come. I'm-"

"What? You don't miss me, darling?" His lips curled into a half-suppressed laugh-a scornful one. "I'll wait for ten minutes and after that, a single call will go to your husband's phone. Mark my words, Sreya. This time the game's mine." With a final shove, he slid out of view.

Myriad thoughts sprinted inside my head, the odds gathered pace and attacked my rationality. I swallowed the discomfort, not sparing a second thought, dialled the only person I could think of. The call connected, and after seven rings a voice greeted with a cold, sinister tone.

"What a marvellous coincidence! Think of the witch and the witch is here."

********

Marriage--a bond--synonymous with love, laughter and happy ever afters. As a child of eight, I championed the idea of marriage; my parents' marriage. With time, I learnt to dissociate from their arguments and clung only to the love and affection; the effort proved worth it and worked for a few more years until puberty hit and raging testosterone started powering the household. My need for Baba's approval turned dire and the more the idea seemed elusive, the more frustrated I grew. Within a couple of years which soon doubled and then tripled, the enthusiasm started ebbing away. This, multiplied by the constant affliction of a male-dominated society ignited the fire to rebel, strongly rebel. And by the time sweet sixteen knocked on my doors, it became quite certain Swarupnagar wasn't the place I envisioned a life in.

What's one ought to do when her back is shoved against the wall and there's nowhere to go but retaliate?

Is it more feminine to cry like a sissy hoping for a prince charming to come in handy or is it natural to bolt your way out, no matter at what cost it came? The fine line between what is wrong and what is right may be blurred and nothing is perfect but there's something as what works. Social climber, gold digger people may give names, at the end of the day each one of us aspires to be at a better place.

We talk about endless love, selfless service or sacrifice or some other synonymous bullshit but it all boils down to nonsensical trash once reality strikes and the harshness of life bites hard. Nothing is absolute. Why should marriage be an exception? Each relationship is transactional, always needs to be tended and weighted. The person who doesn't realise this single truth is one hell of a fool.

Siddhartha sat beside me, often his cigarette rolled out white coils of smoke. Our rocking chairs beat in rhythm, going forward and backwards alternately. The setting sun cast an orangish glow reddening the slight pink of his cheeks. A cream t-shirt fit snug and complemented his peachy complexion. He inherited it from my father-in-law for Mamoni had beige undertones. I watched and watched as more puffs formed hearts and faded into oblivion. The silence between us brewed. Enhanced by a stealthy atmosphere and the growing tensity, it finally exploded when a shrill whistle from the Chatterjee's kitchen pierced right through the middle.

"Here, read this." Siddhartha flopped a Tagore on my lap.

"How come y-"

"It's obvious you're stressed", he shrugged. "Tagore refurbishes your mood, I have observed. So...and this chit has been lying at page one forty-seven for too long, don't you think?" He picked out the bookmark and beamed.

I smiled, a genuine one, considering it seldom came. Pretence is fun and the mask you wear can be a lethal weapon till you fail to distinguish between yourself and the one you mould to be.

"Sreya, you still didn't tell what happened at Varun's engagement party? I mean, you vanished for a solid fifteen minutes and after that..is anything bothering you? Do not hesitate, I'll listen." Siddhartha touched my palm. He rubbed his fingers on the inside and inched closer. "I know there are differences but..but, this time my concern is real."

I looked at him, those eyes and tone voiced earnestness. For an instant, I wanted to be relieved of the burden, yet the fear of consequences hitting hard raised doubts. "Think before you act, don't act before you think", Baba used to say.

We weren't the ideal husband and wife, for whom the typical honeymoon phase refuses to cease. If anything, we both knew why we stuck together and followed protocol like the thousands of others, forging an image for ourselves as well as the world. As days went by, an understanding developed, for mutual benefit we stopped asking questions. More the inquisitiveness, more the danger of the façade falling off and exposing a bitter truth. This house, he, his mother all were a mystery, knotted together by a single clause- one I had no intention of pricking had they not posed as obstacles or had the situation been easier.

"Are your parents unwell?" his voice boomed. In the silence of a quiet evening, it shook my nerves.

"No!" I said. "Why do you ask?"

"Just like that", he shrugged. "Thought they..by the way, your brother called-"

"What?" I sat upright. Siddhartha's eyes darted towards me, confusion written all over them.
"N-not that he can't but, he..he doesn't do it, right?" I quickly covered.

"Nah, he was just enquiring about stuff, my work and all, enquiring about you. I wonder why you two are so cold."

"I wonder too", I said and stood up. His intense gaze burned holes at the back of my head, too keen for answers. It was obvious; my composure failed to tune with the conviction in my voice, or its lack thereof.

"Sreya", his fingers coiled around mine. In a chance encounter with vulnerability, the touch warmed my skin, drilling its way into my heart. "I look forward to start a relationship, with you, afresh. I'm sorry for the way I behaved."

"Really? Are you?" I queried.

He affirmed with a single nod.

'What do you hide, Siddhartha?' I wished to ask. The burden of uncertainty had surpassed my endurance and for once I willed to feel normal, talk normal, give in to his gentility. As partners, we were too adept in bed. He was as much aware of each stretch mark on my body as I got a feel of his wounds. But, compatibility isn't just restricted to a wilderness in between the sheets. It's more, much more. For the soul doesn't anticipate mere touches or kisses, it yearns admiration, respect, understanding and most of all sacrifice.

I breathed a sigh. "What if I want to work?" I said.

He stiffened, the instant pressure I felt around our intertwined fingers relaxed soon after. "I want my wife to take care of the house-"

"But-"

"Listen to me, please." He paused, waited for my attention. "I have enough to provide, Sreya. I know this doesn't mean you can't earn but..It's..I have serious issues. Because of past-"

"Say it, Siddhartha. Just say you're a mama's boy and it's she who doesn't want!"

"No. No, it isn't that. She has her priorities. It's true women in our family don't work. Mine's entirely different, though. Please, don't ask why."

As if I care.

"Then, let's talk the day you can be stripped off your secrets and insecuri-"

"And what about you, Sreya? Are you still in love with somebody else?"

"What?!"

Siddhartha peered into my eyes--queer, exploring, waiting for something-an affirmation might be. He cupped my chin and examined. What went in that devilish head I couldn't fathom, I dared refute the claim but a quick second thought yielded a better idea. My foothold was loosening day by day, left little scope for impulsiveness; each action required analysis.

"So you realised, huh?" I snickered, took a deep breath. This entailed smart acting. "Marriage was the least of my intentions. I dreamt: the city, a job, people, houses, a life for myself. Was I wrong? Is dreaming a crime? Where would we be without ambition, aspiration? Where would you be, Siddhartha? Tell me, without this thirst, won't you be languishing in the corner, bawling your eyes out because some family friend betrayed you all! Left you people on the streets!" I rested my head on his shoulder. "Yes, I had someone, I was in love. But, now-"

"It's fine", Siddhartha patted my back. "You're right. Maybe when we're both ready. There's a lot to share-"

"A lot", I nodded. "I hope you'll listen. Maybe it can alleviate-"

"I'll be all ears", he smiled. "You can bank on me, it's a promise."

As his form waned from the verandah, I revelled in satisfaction. A tinge of optimism blossomed in chaos-this being the first proper full-length conversation we had. From childhood, I compromised-family, friends, society, finally this sham in the name of marriage. I swam against the current, learnt to work the tide in my favour. To have what you need, feed people what they want. Laugh, love, live, look for possibilities. If you give up, it means you never wanted it.

*******

Va18LAEng28

The password clicked to open the screen, my fingers ran random from one option to another-gallery, files, downloads, everywhere.

Where can it be? Where can they be? There has to be something!

Arvind..Ananda..Advent Indu..Beas Water..

Dammit!

Names after names scrolled down. His phone was as fresh as a daisy, squeaky clean without a trace of potential doubt. Yet, I knew. I knew dam well, some substantial proof and I would make him eat his words. The random texts, the whispers in the middle of the night..those hushed arguments. All couldn't be..
Fucking bastard wiped them out!

"Why are you so apprehensive, Sreya? Do I look like a fool, don't I understand what you may be thinking?"

"Please. It isn't anything like that. We need to bridge the gap between us. Siddhartha, I swear I care."

"Do you? That day too you thought I was lying about Varun's engagement. Does my life depend on your validation?"

Yesterday's argument put a stop to whatever progress we made. It was as if I was embarking on a relentless journey; a train directed at a dead end. Every three steps ahead ensured two steps back. A suspicious mind is akin to poison. It stealthily observes you, crawls and finally takes one giant leap. My misgiving about the way things panned out was too intuitive to ignore; it ought to be nipped in the bud.

With careful steps, I made my way to the reading table; a typical Windows sound and the laptop awoke asking for a password.

S19u21p16

The username or password is incorrect. Try again.

Shit!

What a big idiot I was! To think it wouldn't be changed!

Was this so hard to anticipate?

My sub-conscious stressed on his words-"Sreya, stop being paranoid. This way you'll drive me crazy!"

'Am I?' I questioned myself.

The answer was right there. How could I not trust my ears? I had heard him talk, I was certain I did.

"I was at Ma's bedroom. For heavens sake, that woman's sick! And when my wife is least bothered, I have to do the needed, right?" he had said. Still, it didn't clear his disappearance.

"So, apparently you have to walk stealthily like a thief to go to your mother's room?" I had countered.

"Any sane person will do that at the dead of night, don't you think? Or should I wake you up every time I have to pee or do whatever nonsense I want?"

My mind played games, oscillating between certainty and dubiety. "I want to start a life, with you, afresh"-how believable he made it seem!

And it proves how brittle you're-my subconscious poked. Yet, compulsion held its ground. 'Stick to this lie, the truth may be too harsh'-it said.

But, why?

I shut the flap off and rushed to the verandah, pulled at my hair and cursed. Rejected-that was the feeling. Despair and dejection cut slits on my skin, I scoffed; a woman somehow always gives in.

Love is a weakness; it can be the strongest emotion yet the worst enemy. Right now I stood at the cusp of the latter, suffering obvious consequences-derailed from the only goal I cherished. This would have to be done away with. Being rosy and sweet is quite appealing, cute too but, people like us aren't protected and preserved. We had fought our way from the gutters to not just see the stars, I fought tooth and nail yearning to be on that star. There's no distance between the extremes-it's either black or white. But, the middle zone is shaded, the place where the greys hide, it's all about twisting your faculties to suit the need.

Darkness enveloped like a cold heavy blanket, I looked at the pots full of saplings; the soil seemed good, nourished with aged manure. This corner oozed a fresh smell of Gandharaj, its white petals shining like pearls. At Swarupnagar, Baba cared for plants as if they were little children. "Do you think a cute garden is all? No", he said. "You have to look after the soil, this mud is our life. This isn't dirt, it's you, it's me, it's us. We come from the soil, we'll go back to it." Often he placed a handful of ripe red tomatoes on my little palm. "As pretty as my daughter", he would beam. "I wish you care for them as I do. They can be your never-failing friend." Gentle calloused hands would pat my back and I stared with wide eyes at the magic that unfolded-small saplings sprouting, giving life purpose, a destination.

My eyes blurred, fat drops of tears rolled down. I missed Baba's affection, always had; my defiance was practised and deliberate. Why he never looked past the brashness, I wondered.

How and when did Dada take my place?

Fate ruled hundreds of women at Swarupnagar. I never beheld myself in them. When you take charge in the right manner, you can craft your destiny as well. Yet, here I was lost in a big city, cut off from the world, battling random odds like ping pong balls.

And you still doubt your judgement?

For whom?

For some warped idiot who barged his way in? For a deranged former lover who failed to keep a single promise? For my screwed family who rid themselves of their parental duties and were now basking in some demented satisfaction at having their daughter married off to a well-to-do addict? The hand that rocked the cradle ruined my world!

This place sure is distorted.

A month of charm, thirty days of enchantment, a few words of care and that's it! I was captivated!

I'm even questioning myself? Fuck!

Yesterday Siddhartha asked why I was so angry. "I thought you were like your mother", he said. Yes, I carried her tenderness well. That same chaotic-calm in the eyes, the long soft fingers but, what she didn't wear was the rage. I took after my father in that regard. The line between sanity and insanity is very thin. Anger pushes that line, I kept pushing the line because one day the walls were bound to break and like a black hole would suck things into a vacuum. Anger is potent and it was all I was left with.

*******

Dada's khaki trousers and light beige shirt stuck to his stick-thin body. His light eyes shimmered under the rays of the hot late-June sun while those brown paan-masala endorsed teeth reflected a sly smile.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I screamed taking full advantage of an empty house.

"Oh, my angry sister! I told you I came to stay", he chuckled. Flopping on the sofa, he threw the duffel bag on the floor. It fell in a crumpled mess--as light as a feather.

"Really? Don't lie. You just came to mess with me. There's not a thing in that bag." I pointed.

"This, this is exactly the reason why I keep you cornered, Sonu. You're far too observant for your own good. Tsk, tsk, tsk..if only luck favoured yo-"

"Spare me of that shit", I raised my palm. "Do you have what I wanted?" I went straight to the point.

"Oh, yes!"

"Spill."

"Why are you hurrying, little bitch? Ten thousand more as agreed", he snarled.

"You fucking moro-"

"Shall I ask Rajesh to flash those photos to Siddhartha?" Dada sprang from the sofa and gripped my wrist. Twisting it back, he hissed, "I wonder how you'll seduce him, then? The moment he comes to know you screwed your professor..will he still-"

"I dare you!" I cried. With tears brimming my eyes and pain shooting through my limb, I howled in anguish. "I dare you! One word and the whole of Swarupnagar will start asking who raped Smriti. Do not test me, I know everything."

He backed out but, the evil gleam ceased to wane. "Rape and Swarupnagar? You must have gone bonkers these days." He raised an eyebrow followed by a condescending sneer. "And what of our parents? What will happen to them once you spread the word? They will be kicked out of our house and worse, even ostracised. I don't have any morals, but you?"

"You're blackmailing me? With our parents?! How low ca-"

"Oh, I have always been low. But.."

Dada walked back to the sofa and stretched his legs. Lighting a cigarette, he exhaled a plume of smoke. A minute passed in silence; the anxiety multiplied. Finally, he turned towards me and smirked. "After what I say, I don't think you'll ever regret about the rest ten thousand. I know you, Sonu. We're both screwed."

"And what is that?" I asked.

As he inched closer, a fishy breath gagged my insides. I observed how his look transformed from jovial to predatory, eyes gave off a sinister glow. Curling his lips into a roguish grin, he whispered in a lone tone. "Balbir Kaur is your mother-in-law's ex-boyfriend."