The Madness.

Why do you ask me so much, I have told you already there’s nothing to tell, I know I don’t have any ticket out, but since you insist so much, I will tell you this story since I am here today and I read this news today which made sense too, so I will tell you, but first I should tell you about that day when he decided to come home early. The day they brought me here, those bitches. He should have just stayed you know. You think I am mad, fine, but soon you’ll know, you are not safe either. She is out there man. So let me tell you about those filthy towers of dream- hear me out.

From the Eastern Bypass road, the two towers seemed like an obelisk from the past. It was right at the edge of the city. Beyond it lay fields of water and little lakes that one day will silt up too. The rains had colored everything that month. It was these august rains he was wary of- slippery in habit and strangely mournful. On that particular rainy day, when the sky had been greyed by the monsoon clouds and the rains were constantly beating the windshield of the taxi- he got down exactly at his assigned stoppage. He was carrying one small black briefcase with a CCU tag and he was dressed all in black.

A line of sweat marked his strangely wistful face. His voice wasn’t like any other for he was a foreigner in the Humid metropolis. His heavily accented Bengali could be marked from the distance by anyone who was paying attention. He waved to the security guards and went in the complex. They knew him. He knew them too. He trotted swiftly and took the elevator to the eighteenth floor on the southern tower. He walked past three apartments and took out a key and hesitated a little in front of a green door with a name. He seemed a little flustered now. He looked up, took a deep breath and went in. The time has come now.

There she lay, a red pearl in a white room with eyes that were as big as an island of love. But although he could see her today, he couldn’t smell her. She got up from the sofa and told him-

“I have waited long for you.”    

 He nodded in the affirmative. In the ennui of the other worlds he took no interest.

“When will the world know about me?” she asked.

“Soon” he replied. 

He couldn’t take this anymore. His head was heavy like a copper sun. The time has perhaps come. He knew it all along.  She opened the balcony door and went right out in the rain. It kept on raining all over the city where the clouds looked like mountains. The children went home early that day, just like him. He hesitated a little but then followed her into the balcony. They stood side by side in the rain and watched the green fringes of the city and watched the road lined with cars that looked like ants on the run. She would remain a secret in his heart and no one ever dared to look up so high. It will all be safe. He owed nothing to this world.  Sometimes some drivers would spot her redness from the EM Bypass road- and would end up in a madhouse. But most of times people don’t look up so much (or perhaps in the depth of their hearts) - but that day, on that day when everything was grey, I did and they locked me up in the mad house too, you see.

I read in the paper today, about him, “Artist from Bombay mysteriously found dead in his Kolkata apartment” and you see they brought ten others in the mad-house today. She is out there man, she ain’t locked up anymore – it’s the secret in all of our hearts, he gave it life and you see doctor someday she will come for you too- ‘the madness’
and I am telling you she is 

beautiful.