7th July 2011

I'm navigating a trench, my eyes strain to see through the murk. It has been a continual journey for the past four months. I smell something, they all hide behind a veil. There's a stark footprint of shady deals, though it's difficult to get hold of it.

I'm trying hard. It's becoming arduous and taxing. Loving someone without having anything in return drags you, eats all of your energy. I thought I could do the impossible, but look at me, how pathetic I have become!

Where will I go? What/who I'm going to end up with? How long before things break? The clock's ticking away, after all. I'm scared, really scared.

My pen came to a halt. It blotted against the pages imprinting a large blob of blue ink. I heard the door bang shut, angry boots descended the stairs. The sound faded after a few seconds. I sat--still--brooding. We hadn't talked much, it had been so since the day before yesterday. I had my reason but, why didn't he?

I overslept, it was intentional. He didn't ask, just looked at the clock, got dressed and went away. The yellow file he tirelessly worked upon the past days remained on the desk. He would either drive back or deal with it. He had his ways, always did.

These tricks have ceased to affect me, Dada. I read you like a blank paper."

"Huh! You have a long way to go for that. Better try harder to keep your puppy under control. Who knows the leash may be too loose!"

"What do you mean?"

"He came late yesterday, didn't he? Saw him with a woman near the Gariahat crossing, evening around seve-"

"Stop shitting trash."

"For once I'm giving an info for free, Sonu. Take it or leave it. Your call. That asshole is slipping away and so is your position."

I flopped on the mattress. "Saw him with a woman." Dada's words pulsated through my tired mind. I closed my eyes, and let the torment sink in. It seeped right through the heart and coursed in between the veins--like poison, like acid--first icy and then hot--burning, blistering, seething. Breaths manifested as gasps, muscles constricted.

'As if it's a revelation!' I rewired my brain, it was all over the place these days. Mamoni's voice reverberated in the distance, drilled through the walls of the living room and the corridor, striking like lightning once it crashed right at my steps.

"Sreya", she barged into the room. "Do you even know what time is it?" her eyes sped to the clock. "I return to hear my son has gone to the office without food on his plate! There's a heap of used clothes on the sofa and the kitchen counter re-"

"Can we talk some other time, please?" I pinched the space in between my eyebrows and requested. Her loud voice and incessant complaints did nothing for the migraine building up in my head.

"Some other time? Really?" Her feet padded across the space and landed beside me. With a swift grasp, she turned my chin and seethed. "What are you up to?"

For a second, I stood star-struck. "Wh-what?" I blinked. "I don't unders-"

"Who was at my house?" She fumed. "Whom did you let in during our absence, during my son's absence?"

I lurched back and stared at her with a vacuous look. This woman was the most insane creature one could ever come across. Her whole demeanour, what she instituted was beyond distasteful! How can she?

"You know what", I squinted my eyes, rage and revulsion both at play. "I would gladly tell had you not criminalised it, had you not implied that I..that I.." the rest of the words never came out, I preferred to not let them out.

"Have you forgotten it's as much my house as it's yours?" I said. "That I do have the liberty to invite anybody, anytime I want?"

"My house, my rules!" she stomped. Her voice rose--sharp and cackling, it overrode the shrill marble-cutter rampaging our neighbour's terrace. "Who..was..here? She repeated, stressing each word.

I went past her towards the windows. With a prompt tug, drew in the curtains. The darkness was a welcome touch to my sore eyes and forehead. "None of your business", I answered.

"Of course, it is my business!" Mamoni screamed. "When you invite a young man at the expense of our being out, it is my business. It is my son's business!" She parted the curtains aside and pointed at the Chatterjee's house. "People speak. Do you understand? People speak."

"Yes, I do! However, what I don't is, how dare these neighbours meddle in our business, my business. Isn't it an absolute breach of—" I stopped at the realisation, it was hard to believe anybody could stoop that low. "You asked them..didnt you?"

"I wonder how you, being a girl lived all these years at Swarupnagar." She artfully dodged the question. "Your mannerisms and actions none justify your upbringing."

"As if you've known me for ages!" I scoffed.

"Oh! I'm glad I don't." Mamoni's lips curled into a mocking disdain. "You know why? It's because I'm curious." She leaned forward, eyes focussed on me. On a much lower but eerie note, she added, "I'm too curious for your devious ways, Sreya. Considering the number of scandals, your parents-"

"Do not bring my parents into this, ever", I interjected.

"And you be careful of the consequences!" she hit back. "I'm not a nincompoop, got it? I'm not my son. How long, how long do you think you can blindfold him? Shall I allow that? Watch your steps, woman! Stay in your zone, else.."

"Else?"

My annoyance snowballed into wild fury. She dared issue an ultimatum! I could smother the hussey in a second, the card was right there, in my hands but..

It's too early, Sreya. Charge when the soil is most wet.

"Do not threaten me, Mamoni." I approached with calm, calculated steps, rounding the stool she sat on. "Four and a half months in this house is enough to know something's wrong, isn't it? Why are you always so edgy?" I challenged. She looked bemused, unsettled at the sudden shift in control; the deep furrow in between her brows a contrast to the cutting edge in my voice. "You aren't the only curious one. We, women, are like tea bags, don't you think? You never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water."

"Dare lay a hand on my son", her gaze confronted mine--cold, livid. "Dare you do anything. You talk about women? I'll show, I'll show to what extent a mother can go to protec-"

"Why do you think your son needs protection?" I countered. "I'm the one being targeted here, I'm the one who's judged. And the very first thing that comes to your mind is your son! Is he that vulnerable? Or is there.."

I halted, allowed the rest of the sentence to hang in space. Mamoni's glare charred but, she didn't utter a word. Atop, the fan went round in loops. Ghar..ghar..ghar..ghar..it made a swirling sound. I counted the seconds. One..two..three..four...Sixty passed.

Sixty-one.. sixty-two..sixty-thr..

"Fine!" She jumped with a start. "From today, whenever you leave the house, I'll accompany you. Else, Babin will-"

"What!" I yelled. "You cannot do this! It's not jus-"

"No. Not a single sentence, Sreya." She shook her head. "Not another one. It's either this or worse." With a final glare, she darted out of the room.

I shut the door tight and leaned against the dark mahogany. "You'll get used to it..just a matter of time. Every girl goes through this phase", Ma had said the last time I called. Like an elder quelling her child's tantrums, she tried to school and align my line of thoughts.

"I want to go back, Ma. Stay at home for some time. Can't I?" I had requested, little did I know the word 'home' could spark outrage. But, she was patient--patient in letting me finish, patient in hearing me out, understanding enough to not tell Baba about it. At least she bettered several other marriage-minded mothers. Yet, I hoped; I shouldn't have, though. Her silence at the end gave more than just an answer.

"You don't want me to? Do you?" I had smothered a cry.

"Bua is doing a small business. We store the spares in your room. He stays in the other and your father and I-" she didn't complete, there wasn't a need to. I understood; in short, my house wasn't mine anymore. Ma never called Dada, 'Bua'; it was Baba who did. For her, he was Avi. These changes, though subtle, mattered. For a beggar, every penny matters.

'Did you people think I would never wish to spend some time', I intended to ask. But, my voice succumbed. Restrained tears fought against my eyelashes, heaving chest yearning for air.

It was becoming too much. I screamed at the top of my lungs.

'Agh! Aghh! Aaagh!"

I screamed till my voice complied no more, I screamed till it creaked and staggered, I screamed to vent out, I screamed till I dropped dead. The marble was harsh, my luck harsher. The cold--soothing and calm poured into my bones; it fumed like ice on fire. The late morning sun sweltered at forty degrees and I hadn't watered the plants today. By the time evening would set in, they would droop in exhaustion, leaves lacking moisture. 'You failed us', they would scream.

I laughed--a hearty burst of sudden, unusual high— my body's voluntary response to unearthed wounds. What started with a deep, bass guffaw soon metamorphosed into desperate, desolate howls. The surroundings dimmed, random thoughts sprinted within my head. Creeping on all fours, I crawled to the bedside table, my throat in dire need of a single drop of water. Shaking hands clasped the edge but, the jar fell fragmenting into two. Yet, I held on; squeezed and crushed. There were two voices within my head, fighting with opposite interests, clashing to gain the upper hand. One won, a gash on my palm oozed blood, it trickled in drops; the pain numbed, feelings thawed. It was a feral concoction of extreme agony, torment and solitude. If only these emotions subsided, if only the heart stopped beating. If only time winded, I could pause this suffering and hover amongst the trees. My bare limbs skipping through the dry leaves, the grass susurrating underneath. I would be giggling like an innocent schoolgirl with Ma hot on the heels screaming, "Sonu, come here. One more mouthful and it's finished." If only..

Another bout of laughter came, suppressed the cries. What followed was a savage mix of hatred, anger, sorrow, frailty, impotence, worthlessness and an aggravated, exacerbated sense of revulsion and detest. 'You knew, you knew this. It's nothing abrupt', I mumbled like a maniac. Might be if I said enough, it would be true.

He'll pay.

Make him pay.

This whole family will pay. This had worked before. It would again, right?

Anger had always been a trusted friend. In the grim walk of life, it accompanied me like a child's favourite teddy. With time I learnt to revel in the calmative effect it had on my soul. A sedative it was, puppeting my raging fury into a dark inhibited passion--the passion to flame and flare. Like wildfires, it would spread, drawing fuel from myriad acts of injustice and this, coupled with repeated exposures to triggers set a pile of debris in its wake.

Except, this time it was different. Except, this time the very idea corroded; why, I chose not to think. Might be, I was too scared to think. Languishing in a corner, I whined--a lost puppy; so unbecoming and uncalled for. One hour added to two, two multiplied to four. The bleeding stopped but the open wound remained, susceptible to fester. The wall clock belled at twelve, four hours had passed. None called, not even a knock. The marble-cutter had opted for a brief repose, lulling the afternoon into stifled whispers. Swaying on two feet, I got up and reclined, the mattress ducked under pressure. For the first time, I missed company; loneliness nibbled at whatever was left of my sanity. Forsaken--that was the feeling; but, it shouldn't be happening. I had conditioned myself to never let that happen, it had been so ever since that incident.

I rubbed my eyes. No. It wasn't a time for compromise or sacrifice or any 'ice' bullshit. Vulnerability isn't sheltered, in the race for extinction ultimately the fragile are swept aside. This was a pure give and take— transaction in the crudest form. A question of compromise arises only when the other party is understanding; here, it wasn't the case.

I'm not someone's porcelain doll.

As my befuddled brain transitioned towards rationality, the thought of crying like a broken-hearted sissy burst into thin air. No more weakness, no more indecision. It was time to set a date with my fate.

                            **********

"Revenge the sweetest morsel to the mouth that was ever cooked in hell. Whenever I think about this quote, something about it puts me off. Maybe it's in the eerie tone, maybe-"

"Stop!"

"Maybe it's in the words-the ornamental way of presentation of something so gloomy and dar-"

"Stop, I say!"

"And dark, or maybe it's just me pretending to be someone I'm not. They say the best idea for revenge is massive success. The best idea of revenge is living w-"

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed.

"Is living well, the best idea of revenge is to be unlike those guys who performed the injury. They also say, if you seek revenge dig two graves, because one is for yourself. Do you know what I say.." He stood, with hands eased into pockets he radiated an aura of casual cool.

If only that was the case.

I anticipated with bated breath, each exhalation fell deeper than the one before; the hush sliced like a katana. Tick, tick, tick--the clock counted time, beat in rhythm with each of his steps. Slippered feet sauntered towards me like police prowling in patrol cars. I cursed at my decision; it was the worst move anybody could make--coming alone, unprepared.

"Bullshit!" he suddenly yelled. The scream thundered within my ears; I jumped up in fright, my heart thudding in frantic beats. "I call it bullshit", he yelled again. "Because I'm not massively successful and I'm not well!"

Shaking, I perceived the change in his attitude--quivering lips and round red eyes. "But, I could have. I could have it all", his fists tightened. "Talk about digging two graves, mine was already dug. Dug by the same person who stabbed me in the back."

"You aren't making sense. This..th-this.." I stuttered. "I had no choice!"

"Lies!" he cried. "You know I'm making sense. It's absolutely sane of me to screw the shit out of you." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stationed himself on the opposite end of the table. "My wife, my child, my job..and even my honour, I lost all! I was ready to sacrifice everything and you none?!"

I sat still. An air of melancholy descended over him. Somewhere behind the thick lashes, lurked tears. And those weren't just of sheer rage, they were a mix of dispassion and anguish. I felt for him--poor soul, a lot like me.

"I did what I had to, it would have been profane otherwise!" I sighed and shook my head.

He grabbed a bottle of alcohol and gulped directly from it. Scrunching his nose at the pungency of the ombre liquid, he said, "and I promised to marry you. I gave my word that you wouldn't have to worry, either about yourself or our child. Yet, you took matters into your own hands and...and.."

"And you blackmail me into coming here to discuss this?! To shove the past on my face and frame me for the pathetic creature you've become! Is it my fault that you still can't get over it?"

"That's the problem, you know", he took another mighty sip. "You were always very intelligent, too intelligent I should say. But, that intelligence is spared for only your gain. You don't care what repercussions it has on others. Sonu-"

"Don't call me by that name."

"I bloody will", he asserted. "Have you forgotten how you wanted me to whisper this name during lovemaking? Or were they as false as your past confessions of love?"

"They were never untrue", my gaze flickered towards him. I prayed he never looked past my face, at my taut shoulders or trembling hands that were clutching the chair pad tight. "I do not have an ounce of energy or time to waste on this. I need answers.” I said. "What's your equation with Dada? Why's he helping you? He never does anything without a price-"

"Yes, he doesn't. He's as much an antagonist as I'm, I know. But, there's this thing about him. He's unapologetic. He doesn't hide what he is. You do", he pointed at me. "And as for our business, I choose to keep it to myself."

I scoffed. He was siding with him? Dada, of all? The snitch had never been anyone's but himself's. I bet he would blabber all the details once I covered his debts. "And you think I will not know just because you don't want?" I challenged.

He chuckled. "There's something I craved all these years, Sonu. Even in the most trying times, even amidst extreme emotional pain, I desired one single-"

"What's that?" I asked, rather it popped out of my mouth.

His eyes— so intense instantly locked on mine. Shit! I shouldn't have. Silence descended— a brief but, strenuous one. Leaning forward, I seized his arm. He didn't move but, didn't budge away either. An uncomfortable staring contest ensued between us. His gaze seared, burnt; it oozed mixed emotions. Nobody had looked at me like this for the past four and half years. I swallowed. A big lump had started forming in my throat, it neither gave scope to speak nor eased off the tension and sent me spiralling down an abyss of memories— memories I was keen to protect.

His other arm wrested me out of the chair, the momentary lapse in control landed me right on him, rather onto his chest. His dark brown orbs met mine as his fingers caressed the slight curve of my jaws. "Don't you have eyes? Can't you see it's you", he murmured at last.

I choked on my breath, and inside my heart danced in a wild frenzy. He wasn't putting pressure, the feathery grip was unlike Siddhartha. Then, why was I stoned? He was trespassing on my private space and I was a married woman!

I ought to have protested. I ought to have slapped. Why didn't I shove or push or elbow? I could have, easily. It was molestation, wasn't it? Then, why?

Four and a half years, four and a half bloody fucking years and the bastard still has this effect on me!

Shit!

Lightning flashed in the late-evening sky. The sun waned against the horizon before bidding a final farewell. Darkness descended as a thick smoke, ushering in an evil omen. Nothing was going as planned and I was tired of improvising.

How long, just how long before I finally withered? How much was needed to incapacitate me?

Emotions invaded my intellect, the fear of hell breaking loose echoed within my mind. Alarmed, nervous and stripped of any rationality, I pushed him aside.  clutched my purse and dashed out of the room. As my heels paced past the open door, clicking along the extended corridor, a boom of frenzied laughter died slowly.

I was screwed. I was screwed pretty bad. Rajesh Chowdhury, my ex-boyfriend and former professor was back and he was determined to haunt the living daylights out of me.