by Ruchi Kokcha
A thousand purple butterflies leave her tresses to find a different abode, oblivious of the fact that they won’t be able to find a better haven than this fragrant harbour. As she lifts one of her feet to step out of the scallop, her tresses coil around her nether parts to save her from any shame. Her countenance, though, is free from any shame or guilt.
Perhaps it is I who feel shame watching her secretly like this. She tiptoes over the lake, stepping carefully so as not to disturb the placid water, and moves towards the shore. It is better that I hide myself behind a bush. I do not want to confront such a sublime beauty; I feel like a naught in front of her.
She seems to be looking for someone. Her eyes measure the vast orange canvas in search of something.
My heart is beating really fast now because of the fear of being found out. I press my hands hard against my mouth and nose in order to stifle the sound of my breathing. She walks past me without noticing me. I sigh in relief. I am tempted to follow her, but what if she sees me? I would die of embarrassment.
She plucks the brightest fruit from the tree and gorges on it. While she satiates her hunger, I watch her eat with hungry eyes. She whispers something in the ear of the huge orange-coloured tree, smiles and closes her eyes. I have never been so curious in my life.
From the trunk of the orange tree, a young boy appears in front of her. He seems to be her long-lost counterpart, covered only in what nature has given him, a thick pelt of hair across his chest and pelvis. I move a little closer to get a better look at his face, but I cannot see it. She is obstructing my view. She looks at him. Their eyes meet and hearts conjoin as if a heavenly union is about to take place. I have seen both of them somewhere, although I cannot remember where. I feel I know them. I feel I have known them for a very long time.
He holds her by her waist and pulls her close to him. Her tresses coil around him in order to fuse him with her, into her. I turn my back to avoid being a voyeur but cannot help myself on hearing the sound of dried leaves rustling beneath their bodies. She lies under him, brimming with the joy of his presence. A million petals fall over them, spreading the most enticing fragrance around them. But more distinct is the smell of their spirits that flow from one into the other through the first kiss. It is an eternal smell that belongs only to them, their union. The smell is intoxicating. It has a deep, wet effect on me. I try hard to ignore the overbearing feeling and concentrate on what my eyes see. I am waiting for the kiss to end, but it does not. The more I hope it ends, the more passionately they conjoin.
Their bodies gleam with the unity of their spirits. They emit a lot of heat, as if they have produced their own sun, melting everything around them. Purple fluid spreads underneath them. It binds not only with the two spirits but also with the spirit of nature, leaving a mark of their form on this infinite formless universe. They are melting into each other. Within seconds their bodies vanish and only the life source is left, ready for a sacred amalgamation with nature. The purple mixes into the orange, forming a pur-ange colour. Now their essence is eternal.
Out of their molten selves emerges a purange-coloured body, half-male and half-female, the masculine and the feminine energies of the universe in an inseparable form. For a few seconds, nature seems to glow with the aura of this magnificent figure. It moves towards the orange lake and vanishes into its depths. I run towards the lake, but it is too late to catch a final glimpse of the glory. I look into the lake and find that the water goddess was no other than my spirit.
I run towards the tree that just witnessed a wonder. The flowers, the fragrance, the glow, everything has dissolved along with the figure. I call out to my soulmate, the one who unified with me moments ago, but I do not get an answer this time. Disappointed, I sit alone under the huge tree and close my eyes. I can see him, the man who mated with the water goddess. I recognize him. He is Avik.
13
In his room, Avik woke up with a sense of utmost fulfilment. He felt as if his spirit had left his body to drink from the eternal vial of life, as if the source of his existence had pulled him for a cosmic union with its soulmate, something he had never experienced before. It was as if he had woken up from darkness to a moment of unfading luminescence.
He went out onto the balcony and sat there, straining to recollect the details of what he had just experienced. Was it a dream or an astral projection? He felt one with a celestial being, merged with her essence in a timeless cosmic unity.
Perhaps it was just a weird dream, Avik thought as he scratched his head in bewilderment, trying to collect and fuse together the broken pieces of the dream and make sense out of it.
I certainly saw my spirit uniting with a female spirit, like two lost parts of a whole coming together after a separation of a million light years. It gave me a sense of completeness I have never experienced before. Not with any of the women I have been with. But who was the female spirit in my dream? Was it Khyati? Is my mind trying to tell me that she is the one I should be with for all the love she can give me? But it couldn’t have been Khyati. I do not feel it was Khyati. Avik closed his eyes as he tried to remember his other half from his dream.
No, it was definitely not Khyati. She does not evoke the same response as I now think about her. Had it been her, I should have felt the same completeness I felt when I woke up. Was it Trisha? I certainly do miss her at times, but it was not Trisha either.
Avik closed his eyes once more to probe his mind and saw the spirit in front of him, her back to him. Yes, there she is. He asked her to turn around to face him, filled with a strange fear, as if his intuition had already told him who she was. His fear came true.
Ananki? No! It can’t be. How can someone feel such completeness because of someone who is so incomplete as far as being human is concerned? This is a trick that my mind is playing on me. It must be a sign, a warning to guard myself against her insane self, which can drive me into it and make me as insane, locking me within her closet for the rest of my life. I should be more careful in her presence.
Avik felt exhausted by his search for the identity of the female spirit; he went back inside and lay down on his bed, soon falling asleep.
When he woke up he did not remember anything, not even his own words of caution. The diminishing effect of the medicines had brought back his rational consciousness but along with it a lot of pain. The doctor had advised him to rest for at least a fortnight, but he could not waste that much time doing nothing about the case. At the same time, his injury made it difficult for him to move about. He decided to call Sahay.
Mornings had always been the best time to talk to him, before his good mood – the result of a night of great sex, most likely – was washed away by the happenings related to a hundred deadlines at the office.
‘Good morning, Avik. How have you been? So what is the secret behind Kalki’s death? I am sure you must have pulled it out of that tigress’s mouth by now. I can’t wait to be the second one to know the details and make them known to the world. And trust me, the story will be huge,’ Sahay bombarded him even before Avik could say hello.
This was what Avik hated the most about Sahay. He did not care to listen to others.
‘I am still working on it,’ Avik interrupted.
‘What? Why is it taking so long?’ Sahay asked.
Avik noticed the sudden change in Sahay’s tone. He didn’t like it, but it was important for him to burst his euphoria and show him the real picture of this seemingly simple case.
‘I was shot day before yesterday,’ Avik told him.
There was silence at the other end.
‘Are you there?’ Avik asked.
‘Yes,’ Sahay replied after a pause, then continued, ‘How did this happen? Are you all right? Who do you think might have done it?’
‘I was lucky. I stumbled just as the person shot at me and the bullet only grazed my arm. Else it might have gone right through my heart. I am not sure who did it, but I will find out. I have filed an FIR,’ Avik replied.
; ‘Come back if you want to. There are several other stories you can work on. I don’t want to put your life at risk just for a story.’ Sahay sounded worried.
For the first time in all the years that Avik had been working for Sahay, he sensed concern, something very unusual from a man like him.
Avik was adamant on remaining in Delhi, but he asked to be moved to an accomodation near Dr Neerja’s NGO, so that he did not have to spend the majority of his time and energy commuting. Sahay, unlike the previous time, agreed at once and asked Avik to check into a hotel of his choice. One incident had changed the way Sahay had been treating him all these years.
It took Avik a day to pack and move to the hotel he had selected. He was tired, and in a lot of pain. All he wanted was a long, dreamless sleep.
Avik felt a little better the next morning. His mind was refreshed but his body was tired, and he was still in a lot of pain. His tired body wanted him to rest for a few days, but his mind wanted to talk to Ananki. As always he listened to his mind and got out of bed.
Avik wanted to draw on some positive energy to overcome the pain and fatigue his body was feeling, so he closed his eyes and thought of his mother’s chanting. It worked like meditation for him, bringing a smile to his face, calm to his body and peace to his mind.
He got ready to go out to pick up the copy of the FIR, but as soon as he took his medicines, the dizziness returned. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, his body was not ready yet. He would have to rest for at least a few days. He called Inspector Naaz to ask if the copy could be sent over to him. The inspector suggested that it was better he sent someone to collect it. There was only one person who could do that for him. He asked Khyati to collect the copy and keep it with herself till they met.
Avik knew his next visit to Ananki would be loaded with the power of nemesis, for both her and him. He would go to any extent to get her story, but it was essential that he develop a strategy in order to do that, for beneath that madwoman’s mind lay a cunning contriver who could make all his efforts turn to ashes. It was best that he utilized these days of rest to formulate a plan that could help him succeed in his endeavour.
Building trust is essential to the accomplishment of my goal. What can I do to win her trust so that she confides in me the truth that lies buried in her heart? He kept pacing in his room, pondering over and juggling between the various options his mind threw at him.
What approach would work best for a girl who had gone mad for love’s sake? It was love that could work. The thought had made him shudder earlier, but today was a different day altogether. Today he would look through her madness using her own tools. He was not sure if he would get through the door of her closet, but he knew he had the apparatus he needed to work with.
While working on his strategy, his mind was filled with questions, more than he could answer. Out of all them, one question kept resurfacing.
Who was the hunter and who was the hunted? Did any such binary exist between them? What if in his hunt for the story he became the hunted? What if he was stuck in this game eternally?
Am I ready to put my entire life at stake for a madwoman, a woman who loves someone else to the extent of madness? What if in this enactment of love I forget that I am actually playing a part?
His thoughts went from being confined to the question of his role to the larger question of the roles people play in society. He took out his pen, fetched a sheet of paper and began to scribble down his thoughts. The written word had always given him a much clearer perspective than the spoken word or thought.
‘Unconsciously, everyone starts believing in the great mask they wear while playing their part, forgetting their inner self, which contradicts the external one. Is anything true? Yes, the rocks, the sky, the earth, the trees, all these are true, but human beings are far behind such existence. Each one is a character eternally seeking an author that can give him or her directions to play their part well. On this stage called life, everyone sees himself or herself as a hero, inventing a role for themselves. This role gives meaning to their life, without which it is formless. But then the root of torment lies in other actors, who try to cast you as subordinates in their plays, imposing their own image upon you, however distorted and capricious it might be, fixing you in a formulated scene, forcing you to live inauthentically. The actor who is fully conscious of his or her role has indeed found their author.
Avik had chosen his role, just like Ananki had chosen one for herself several years ago. Both were heroes in their own plays, and Avik’s choice of merging their plays and bringing them onto one stage would lead to one of the two truths becoming false. Which of the roles would emerge as truth was hard to tell as of now, but Avik was sure that he was ready to take this chance.
Fifteen days of rest and planning had given Avik a better understanding of the case and brought a new confidence to his countenance and approach. It would soon be the most important day of his life.
Sonu had been looking for an opportunity for Dr Neerja to be absent from the NGO, even if it was for a few hours. He informed Avik as soon as she had to rush back home, as Dr Bhalla had complained about chest pain. It was unlikely that she would come back to the NGO.
On the way Avik’s mind worked only on his modus operandi – professing one’s love to a woman in an asylum can be quite unnerving. This would probably be the last time he would see her. He had to build a false world for her and it would not be easy to make her believe in the world constructed by him. It had to be perfect, not merely driven by his instincts and her response.
The stairs down to her cell appeared darker than usual, or perhaps it was just his nervousness that made them appear so. He walked down carefully, but the soft sound of his feet had already alerted the being caged inside.
She stood pressed against the bars, her nipples flattened by them. Her pubic hair was more prominent than usual under her ill-fitting gown that was pressed against her by the bars. Avik looked at her from a distance and stopped short. The force that had always pulled him back worked this time too, but today he felt it was feebler than usual.
I hope it can sustain me long enough to put together the pieces of the puzzle, he thought as he looked at her. The longer he stood, the faster the blood in his veins travelled straight to his groin. Her raw sexuality can arouse even the most asexual man.
He had never denied the strong physical attraction he felt for her. What he feared was her mind. But for the moment, he wanted to forget everything her mind had to offer and receive all that her body could give him.
He walked towards her and stood right in front of her, leaving just enough space for the air to pass between them. He waited for her reaction. No response. She did not move even an inch. The way she looked at him boosted his confidence; she stared straight into his eyes, her head cocked slightly to one side, her lips opened in a gentle pout, as if asking for something.
Without thinking for another second he reached through the bars to hold her face between his hands and pull it towards his, and then pressed his lips tightly against hers. At first, her willowy frame remained still, her hands hanging beside her thighs. But gradually he felt her thawing with the warmth of his tongue. She reached her arms out through the bars to hold him tightly by his waist, digging her nails into him. While he sucked on her lower lip, his hands moved quickly over her in the discovery of her body. Her thighs were lean, just as they looked beneath the gown; her hips were narrow, he could encircle her waist with his hands; the smoothness of her neck and the fire she had lighted in his spirit led his fingers to her small but firm breasts.
He kissed her and kissed her, until his trance was broken by the push she gave him, making him stumble back against the opposite wall. He stared at her from beneath his lashes; she reciprocated the fervour. Even if neither acknowledged it, there was definitely something between them. It had been there from the moment he had seen her as a silent shadow lurking behind these bars. It might not be love or even the hope of a relationship, but there w
as a connection, a spark that could send them up in flames.
Every union needs such an initial spark, be it physical attraction or an emotional connection or, if one is lucky, an intellectual kinship. This kiss had sealed the bond between the two. It was not either one’s first, but neither would be able to erase it from their memory.
She was infuriated at herself and at him for what had happened, for the kiss immediately barred her from the sacred space of her ever-loyal self that had been bound only to ‘Da’ till now. So enraged was she that she was ready to rip him apart, tear his heart out and eat it raw, had the bars not protected him. She banged her fists against the bars, and then retreated towards the back wall till she bumped against it. Deeply hurt by the sense of helplessness, she cried loudly.
Each sob was like an arrow that pierced his chest, bringing out in him an immediate feeling of remorse.
At that moment, Sonu appeared with Ananki’s lunch; he opened the door and placed the tray inside. Avik asked him to leave the door unlocked, although the thought scared him. Sonu left the lock and the key hanging in the latch and left.
Avik exhaled a deep breath and without procrastinating any further went inside the cell. Ananki sat with her knees drawn up against her chest and her arms wrapped around them, probably to shut him out of her world, but he had to invade it, no matter what. He sat behind her and held her tightly.
‘I am sorry, Ananki. I had no right to thrust my feelings upon you.’
He paused. Would he really be able to deliver an impressive declaration de l’amour, something that would melt her heart and make her believe him, trust him and confide in him?
