Black Shadow

I wonder,
When the black shadow will come
Will I embrace it happily?
Leaving behind all memories...
Or, Will I hug half heartedly?
Leaving behind many unfulfilled desires...

Black and White

The sound of laughter, the screams of children  and the loud music of holi songs woke her up.  It was again another day that she hated to wake up with festive feelings. And like other festive days she chose to be isolated, to be deaf and blind. She kept herself aloof; aloof from the outer world that even sunrays were not permitted to pass through the curtains of her room. The feelings of loneliness choked her deep inside for only she knew that the festival of colors did not matter without his colorful presence.  So,  she stood up;  draped her white Saree and engrossed herself in household chores ignoring the noisy world that she was once part of. 

Monster

Leaving behind the hustle and bustle of city life,  I sometime, took refuge at the ghats of Sukreswar temple. I would sit in the steps of the ghat for hours. I loved to sit there with nobody to disturb me. On one such visit last month, I found a familiar face. I saw her once or twice. She was a girl of twelve or thirteen years of age. But I never had conversation with her. She was staring at me from distance. I smiled and signaled her if she wished she could come and join.
She came without any hesitation.
'Hello, I am Biswarupa. But you can call me Rupa,' I introduced myself.
'Hi,' she replied shyly.
'What's your name?' I asked.
'You can call me Tutu,' she copied.
I smiled at her gesture.
'Why do you come here?' she inquired.
'I love to sit at the steps of the ghat and stare at the mighty river. I love being with myself and write the song of my lonely heart... ' I replied sensibly.
'So,  you are a writer... ' she asked-her eyebrows squeezed.
'Well, I aspired to be one...,' I said almost in a laughter.
'You write real or imaginary stories?' she asked curiously.
'A blend of two, real stories with fictional touch...' I replied back.
'Will you write my story?' she asked.
'Do you have a story to tell?' I questioned.
'Yes- the story that haunts me every night,' she answered.
She could not frame her words perfectly. I looked at her. She turned her face away. I shifted towards her. I put my hand over hers.
'Will you write my story?' she asked again.
'Yes,' I assured her.
'One night, I was asleep when a monster woke me up.  I could not figure it out in the dark. I only felt it on my chest which formed circle over my waist. I was afraid,  I could not shout. It went up and down starting from my neck and ending in my thighs. After sometime, I could understand that it had two legs. One went up and the other down. It continued exploring my body. Suddenly, I could hear footsteps nearing my room.  The door opened and the monster disappeared. I felt a familiar touch. It was my mother. And I was so happy that the monster won't come again for it was afraid of my mother. I was right.  It didn't show up that night.  But my happiness did not last long. It came the following night and continued nights after nights. I tried to tell my mother about the monster. But she ignored.  She thought it was my imagination. I was left alone in the hands of that dreadful monster.  One night,  with all my might I tried to face the monster. I waited to see how the monster looked like.  When I felt it over my body,  I slowly removed the blanket from my face and stared at it. My eyes remained wide open. I tried to hold my breathe. My lips dried and my throat struggled for water. The monster looked like my brother in the dark...'
She could not speak more. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I hugged her tightly. She cried in my arms. I had no words to soothe her pain.
'You have to fight the monster. Take your stand. Speak to your parents directly. Don't sleep till your mother comes. Change your room. Stop talking to your brother. Your parents will realise soon,' I said firmly.
She sat there with me in silence. The Sun was about to set. The birds were returning and so was the nature changing around us. Suddenly,  she stood up.
'Thank you, dear writer. It's time for me to leave. I will narrate the next version of my story in our next meeting. Hope to see you here again on the same day in the coming month. Bye,' she said smilingly.
She left me confused. I was unable to understand whether it was real or fiction.
'Did she play with my mind?' I thought.
'Maybe. Or,  may not.'
'A blend of two... ' reasoned my defeated mind.

Judgement

A smile passed on her lips as she felt pride for accomplishing the task properly.  She had been busy since last few weeks unpacking and arranging everything - every room after her family relocated to their new house.  It was already midnight and finally, after arranging the last room; she had completed the work. She chose to call 'The last room' as it was for her and as such she could make necessary arrangements whenever she wanted.  She was lucky to have a room, a bed, a study table with a chair,  king sized Almira and a book shelf. The best thing about her room was her book shelf and she called that her own. She placed her most prized possession in one of the four corners,  the other two corners being occupied by the Almira,  the study table and in the third corner a yoga mat was laid for her exercise and meditation purpose. Her bed rested few steps ahead of her book shelf in a straight line.

The feeling of having everything of one's choice in one's room took away her feeling of exhaustion.
She sat on her bed, her face towards her book shelf.  Each of the four chamber of her book shelf had its own story to tell. Her eyes scrolled through the chambers and got paused for a minute while scrolling down the second chamber.
 Her left eye could sense a wicked laugh while her right eye sparked with admiration. One was arrogant, egoistic, impulsive and an achiever. The other was matured, calm, altruistic and an optimist. She was in dilemma whom to chose for her future.  One was there since she was 12 years old till the end of teenage years while the other witnessed her transformation from teenage stubborn girl to a matured woman. She owed both of them a lot. But she knew very well that one could only become her companion. She thought very deeply and questioned herself if she could choose both partially. Both had been a part of her existence. She had walked miles with each at different phases of her life. The matured she was active in her while the arrogant she had been dormant since five years.
'Be with me,  I will take you to the heights,' said the arrogant she.
'I will make you a great human being, ' matured she replied.
She was unable to judge. So she closed her eyes and tried to analyse but before she could give her final verdict; she fell in a deep slumber.

Mini Tale

'I keep him alive in the mirror of my thoughts,' her lonely heart yelled.
'I see his reflection in that mirror,' her eyes blinked.
'He has no existence in me,' her confident mind replied. 

Story of pen and diary

'I know all her secrets,' said the proud pen.
'I keep all her secrets safe,' revealed the silent diary.

Unsaid and Unheard

She looked in the mirror for one last time but could not turn her face away. Her eyes were fixed on the mirror since she looked gorgeous in the bridal outfit- a banarasi sari. The ornaments that she had put on along with the makeup furnished her perfectly. She observed herself minutely from her hair to her fingertips. Indeed, she looked like a diva. Now that she was satisfied she turned around and looked at her room. All these 25 years she had built strong bonds with every corner. But a certain ritual called ‘marriage’ would soon change everything in her life. She felt helpless yet did not allow emotions to overpower her; she had to look stunning otherwise her pictures would not be a matter of discussion on the social sites.

‘Who does not want to be in a limelight?’ she thought. At least she wanted to be. She walked around her room. Many memories ran before her. She let this slip out of her life. But something made her stop. And she opened her bookshelf to hold it -a wrapper of diary milk silk. She only knew what it meant for her. It was her secret- a gift to her from her love.  She kissed it. And now her lips were prominent in its body. She missed him like anything. She had always dreamt of him, only him. No matter, she promised herself she would love him forever. But with each passing second, her promise weakened. It was a sin and she would be cursed by gods if she kept someone else in her thoughts. Tears dropped down. She could no longer hold herself back. She cried and cried like a new born baby. And his thoughts had messed up everything- her look that she was very much concerned few moments back.

But that moment she cared for nothing not even her looks. All she wanted was him. It was too late. Her ego had always blocked all her roads to him. She had even blocked him at the social sites the very day her marriage was fixed. What she had always wanted was he would propose. But he didn’t. He was never ready for commitment. And these thoughts made her hate him all over again. But still she could not resist her temptation to hear his voice for one last time.

She picked up the phone and dialed his number. Before she could hear his voice, she felt a hand on her back. She turned. It was her mother. The cell slipped from her hand. Her heartbeat increased and she was afraid that her secret would be revealed. The sign of nervousness was clearly visible on her face.

The groom had arrived. Her mother had come to take her. So, she slowly walked with her mother, unaware that his voice echoed in her room after she left.