Thursday, October 31, 2013

About Them...




So what's the difference between them, again?” He looked half quizzical and half amused. She sighed, exasperated, “Do you really want to know?”. He burst out laughing. She had her answer. It was such a pity she could never be one of them, those dark fantastic creatures, she could only admire and appreciate them like a connoisseur of fine art and music, someone talented enough to enjoy them but quite not enough to create them. Her gift of empathy was quite a curse at times. Maybe, her life was too ordinary and mundane, that's why she sought after such dark musings. Anyhow, she shouldn't expect someone else to understand that, let alone Amrit, the simpleton he is. She decided to forgive his ignorance, and smiled back at him. Although, she was bored out of her mind most days, it had always been her decision to be a content writer. Most of the time that involved staying at home and working, but she came to the office at least three days a week. She was more of a free agent, but today in spite of the rain and mud, she couldn't sit at home. Sometimes, old habits are hard to get rid of, she would always use New Times Roman as her font and 1.5 times line spacing, for no good reason. A small idiosyncrasy, she which was allowed. Most of the days, whenever she would get some time, amidst her work, she would keep looking up stories about them, her dark knights, minimising the page of course whenever people came over to her desk. Those were her very private and precious fantasies. So if Amrit couldn't understand her, she was fine with it, a little angry with herself for getting carried away, she had started the discussion on kaijins which stemmed from a very silly film.
The basic difference between the two, is that kaiju is a monster in true form, the most famous being Godzilla, therefore these are completely of the fantasy realm, but kaijin is a human monster or humanoid in essence, so such a word could describe the serial killers or killers in general through time, in stories and in life. They were monsters too, cannibals or just sociopaths or psychopaths...they belong to our world and can be painfully real...” She drifted off when she saw the incredulous expression on his face. She knew she had gone too far, revealed too much, but of course she was saved by his stupidity. Amrit at that moment saw her as she was and he couldn't make anything of it, that's what he was, a “nothing”. She realised the friendship had reached its end. The rest of the day passed in a daze, she had to finish her quota of two thousand words and then leave for home. The weather outside was quirky and moody, sunshine streaked with brief spells of rain. No rainbows though, the soot ate them up maybe, she thought as had her lunch.
Once done, she was packing her things to go, Amrit came up to her. “Would like to have some coffee, I could drop you home later?” Usually, she liked hanging out with him, but she wasn't up to any company that evening. She agreed nevertheless, maybe as a cover or smoke screen to hide herself away again.
They made their way through the traffic, to a cafe, about a half an hour away. It was called the “Hideaway” ironically, she smiled to herself but Amrit saw her smiling, questioned her with a raised eye brow. She tried to keep a straight face, one slip was fine, and she couldn't keep doing that. She went in, and sat beside the glass wall overlooking the street outside while Amrit was parking his bike. He came in, sat down sloppily, facing her.
Are you upset or something? You know I was just joking, I can't get you sometimes, yaar...you live in your mind...” He looked contrite. She looked away, trying hard to think of something nice to say, “It's okay really, maybe I was just having a hard day.” He shook his head gently, “It's not just about today, or yesterday...It's been a while...is something bothering you, why were you so transfixed by the dead run over cat the other day and to think those rust stains were blood in the wash basin...are you sure you are fine?” He looked so concerned. She seemed to have reached the end of the fraying rope holding on to her facade of normalcy. She was about to laugh at his face, but she chose not to, instead smiled at him reassuringly, “I am good, really...don't worry.” He let it go at that and they ordered two cappuccinos and a sandwich. Amrit started humming that weird tune again, the only “off” thing about him.
Will you walk into my parlour? said the Spider to the Fly,
‘Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy ”
She laughed at him, he smiled sheepishly.

The week went by sluggishly, finally when Friday came, everyone seemed relieved. She was looking forward to a quiet weekend with a book of short stories by Edgar Allan Poe, the master of dark art. Her plans were thwarted by Amrit's insistence that she should come for dinner at his place the next day. She had known him for two years now, and although they would spend a lot of time together, she was somehow reticent in visiting his home. She liked being a recluse, and her friendship with Amrit was only a means to an end, an act, so that people won't think her strange. Amrit was quite different from her. Gregarious and friendly to a fault, and everyone liked him. She considered his suggestion, few people from office would go and this too will strengthen her act of being shy but friendly, rather than coming across a “weirdo”. So she agreed with a bit of misgiving nevertheless. She still had Friday, she would as she please this evening, and the next day would take care of itself. She re-read the story “The tell-tale heart” and enjoyed it again, that night. She was very much convinced by the young man and his motives for killing the old man, and she could sympathise with him. She imagined the old man with a vulture eye, so cold and blue which drove the young man to kill him. Kaijins never kill for material things, not money or passion, and so this man explains how he was not interested in the old man's wealth nor did he hate him. The young man was not insane as he may be interpreted by some readers, he knew what he had to do and he was sharp and logical. It's the heart of the dead man, buried beneath the floor boards that gave him away, beating even in death. Hideaways are essential and so are people to hide behind. Suddenly she wondered was this person a really kaijin? He did hear the old man's heart beating after all, a sound of guilt perhaps? She wondered if she could ever take the step and then regret it, there is no way back after a certain point.
She dressed carefully the next day, a clean pair of jeans and a white embroidered kurti. Her hair was left loose, hung in soft waves till her shoulder blades. Amrit lived nearby, about 20 minutes away. She thought of walking, instead of taking the bus. She hated the bus, all those people, too close for comfort, stepping into her aura and stench of intense intimacy; it was the worst way to travel. The sky had cleared a little that evening, specks of clouds were still there, but the sky was lavender with a touch of rose, darkening as the hours passed by. She reached Amrit's house at the end of the lane, shrouded by lush green branches of the gulmohar tree. She sighed, steeling herself for the ordeal. As she rang the bell, she wondered if she should have brought something, some sweets or a bottle of wine. She sucked at such silly social protocols. Amrit opened the door with a huge grin and enveloped her in a warm bear hug. She squirmed uneasily, like she always did. He let go of her finally, she breathed easy. She went inside the sitting room, it was empty. The wall clock showed nearly seven, she look at him confused, “Where are the others?” He gave her a strange smile, “there is no one else, it's just you and me...” She was taken aback, what was on his mind. She didn't know how to handle such a situation, “And what are we supposed to do all by ourselves?” She asked him, a little irritated. She had given up an evening with Poe for this! It was just so frustrating, and she didn't know what his intentions were, was he falling for her? That would be really unsavoury; she knew she should have ended the friendship long back....
Why don't I get you something to drink? Tui bos, ami aschi (sit, I'll be back)” He went to the kitchen. She sighed, sat herself on a sofa, curling her legs behind her. The room was so sparse; there were effectively three furniture, one sofa, a table and a cupboard. The antique clock struck twenty past the hour. Amrit returned with a glass of wine. She was about to get up, when he gestured for her to sit, and handed her the glass. The room was bathed in dark sepia tones, and the warm red of the wine looked almost black. She took a sip, and looked at him. There was something about his eyes, maybe it was the light. She kept looking, as if her eyes were drawn to his, something cold and black moved behind them. She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time, she didn't know this person, her simple friend had disappeared, and instead, there was this stranger, smiling at her. He sat across her, down on the floor, “So what's the difference between them, again?” He looked half quizzical and half amused.



Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour — but she ne’er came out again!”