Intoxication

It was cold. Not the regular pleasant cold but the frosty teeth clattering cold. The world seemed not to notice him. Why would they. He was not someone well known or not even one of those faces which you would remember. He was from a lower strata of the society whom people overlooked, seldom even acknowledging their presence.

Disheveled hair. White face turned black with the coal picking and the pollution. Hands as rough as they can get in a 10 year old boy. Slender food deprived frame. Wearing a tattered red shirt and black half pants. The only thing striking about him was the eyes. Even in the harsh surrounding around him and of his life, they gleamed with a strange hope.

He was passing by the main road. Looking calmly into the windows of the shops. The clothes and the mannequin seemed to hold his attention. He looked at this trio of mannequin which consisted of a man, wife and a little child. They were well dressed. Even though they were lifeless, looking at them gave him a sense of life. He was reminded of his own parents or maybe a figment of them. They had passed away long back leaving him to the fate of this harsh world.

Slowly crossing the main road, he went into the lane beside. People hardly used to notice this lane. It was as if it didn’t exist for the general crowd. It was narrow and dark. Rotten smell from the years of dumping waste at the end of the lane discouraged anyone entering there.

He quietly went there and sat on one side of the lane. From out his pockets he took out an old plastic and the tube. The white color of the plastic was no more. It had turned into a dying shade of yellow. The tube was at the end of its life. He squeezed out the tube with all the strength he had to get the drops of the white paste into the plastic. Satisfied no more could come out, he threw away the tube.

He pushed his nose and mouth into the plastic and gave a deep inhale. Instantly he was transported to a world which felt like home. He forgot the cold, the hunger, the poverty, the everyday abuses by his owner, the looks of the passing crowd, the filth.
He closed his eyes and pictured his parents wearing the same clothes as that of the mannequins. He felt happy.


He inhaled again. More deeply.

The bond between us

It was eleven o' clock in a chilly winter night. I was in my room dead to the world outside cramming as hard as I could for my forthcoming examinations.

The few friends I had, had promised not to disturb me at night, knowing I was at last studying in earnest.

It was therefore with feelings stronger than surprise that I heard my doorbell ring on that particular night.

I jumped up from my seat with an exclamation of anger.

The bell rang for the second time with more urgency and I said to myself: ?The fellows all know that I am studying for this exam. Why in the world do they bother me at this unearthly hour??

As I opened the door still clutching my book, I saw a stranger. He was a short and youngish man. His face was a pallid white with eyes, which were very bright and had a strange mischievous glint in them.

Though his cheek and chin were unkempt and unshaven, he looked like a gentleman as he was well-dressed and bore himself with a certain degree of finesse. But strangest fact was that he had no umbrella although it was pouring heavily outside.

A hundred questions sprang to my mind. But chiefly I thought: Who in the world is he?? But none of them came out from my lips because as he turned a little, light fell on him from the bulb.

I exclaimed: Gorky! Man! Your alive? Is that you??

Come in man. Is there something wrong, you okay?? I hardly knew what to say as I stammered with excitement. We had been the best of buddies since childhood, sharing all our joys, sorrows and secrets.

Then suddenly we were completely cut-off from each other. He went on to pursue law while the engineering bug caught me.

As I led him through the hall I noticed he was tad unsteady and evidently much exhausted. How did he get here? But the questions seemed less important as I saw my friend after such a long time.

Come along, I said gleefully. I was just going to have supper and you are right on time.

He made no reply and was more unsteady, so I took his arms to support him and felt that his clothes hung loosely on him. He was as thin as a skeleton.

I said: Let me get the supper ready on the table, and made him sit on the sofa.

Afterwards as he finished eating I happened to look at his face and it sent shivers through my body.

His face was white as a chalk piece. I said to him: How foolish of me not to offer you beverages. Would you like something to drink? .....Are you feeling all right??

As he drank from the glass, I noticed his overcoat which was dry and covered in dust and mud, as if he had rolled on the ground.

I was starting to ponder over this but Gorky was looking terribly drowsy so I took him to my bedroom and made him feel comfortable.

He fell asleep instantly with a rhythmic loud snoring. Poor chap, must be exhausted, I thought.

I returned to my cramming in the study room. In the wee hours of the next day before I went off to sleep, I went to see if Gorky was all right.

But I was surprised not to see him on the bed although I could hear him snore even then.

I called out to him but there was no answer. Then I searched the room going through every nook and corner, but no luck!

I lay down where he was sleeping before and soon exhausted by the hours of studying I dozed off waiting for my friend. I don't know how long I slept but I was woken up with a start by the loud snore that came from right beside me. I turned and found no one.

Now my mind was hyper active. I gulped down three glasses of water.

Am I hallucinating? Was my exam stress making me imagine all this? Was my hope to see my dear friend making me hallucinate? But I thought of the supper we ate together and the water he drank.

I went to the kitchen and saw all the food I had laid out for him was still there. I had been feeding no one!

Then it came to me that during the whole time Gorky had not spoken a single word. But what about the snoring, which was still loud and clear

My eyes fell on my wrist where there was now a fresh line of blood and my mind raced back to our school field where Gorky and I had cut each other's wrists and exchanged drops of blood.

We had promised to meet each other before we died. It was a promise that was sealed by blood.

Suddenly, the bell rang and I jumped. It was the postman. He gave me a letter. I opened and it read

Dear Max,

It pains me to tell you that Gorky was found dead on his bed today morning. Doctors assessed he had died of a heart attack 12 hours before.....!!

12 hours before, Gorky kept his promise you see...

The girl next door

The sun was almost lost in the laps of darkness. Somewhere among the everyday jostling between the crowded buses, she was returning home. She was your average looking next door girl. A plain Jane as they used to say. Hair all tousled from the sweating Kolkata heat. Dressed in a casual grey top and blue denims. People would hardly care for a second look towards her.
The only striking feature was her eyes. The kind of eyes you will find on the face of goddess durga. Like the strokes of a painter's brush. The kind of eye that drills past you and looks directly into your soul.
She reached her home. Her home. 1 bhk. Blue walls. A large mirror. A single bed. Few books lying on the bed. A large wardrobe.
She went for a bath. The cold water washed much more than just her. The water seemed to wash her soul too.
She came out. An orange towel wrapped around her to protect her modesty. She came and stood in front of the large full length mirror. She examined herself dropping down the towel. The water droplets moved down her curves inching slowly. Her curves, she was proud about them.
She opened the cupboard. Picked up a shimmery LBD. Then decided against it. Picked up a sheer black sari. Tried it on. Looked herself in the mirror again. The 40 watt bulb from the background threw diffused light from the back of her sari. She looked sideways. The silhouette accentuated her curves even more. Satisfied she dabbed a bit of mascara and lipstick (the bright red one) on her lips. She rolled her lips on top of each other to even out the lipstick.
After getting through with the intricacies of getting ready she sat down on her bed. She took up a fat looking book. Mathematics it said on the cover. Very slowly she turned to the middle page of the book.
The green leaves gave a distinct aroma. The kind of aroma which is hard to forget once you have smelled it. She picked up the leaves and started to grind it with her small fingers. The smell of the leaves and the sweat of her hands gave out a peculiar smell.
She placed the grinded leaves into a white paper and rolled it up using her saliva as adhesive. Satisfied with the result she placed the joint in her mouth and lit it up. She pulled in a deep drag.
Soon she was transported to a world of inhibitions and lightness. With each passing drag she forgot who she was and became who she was going to be.
The bell rang. It was time. The smoke washed away her fears and emotions. The society craved her body but they couldn't touch her free soul.