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Saturday, June 5, 2010

Nocturne


I could do with a friend.

The garbage that I sift through is more than what meets the eye. Its more like a bunch of unrecognized photographs; only, nobody knows they are actually photographs. A broken comb talks about a woman who still takes a lot of pride in her aging beauty; enough to go hankering after a new one. At her age.
The broken china screamed loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood last night, at the moment of their birth. Before that, they were part of a drawing room facade, created to fool guests that everything in the house was peaceful. Piece-full.
The ragged doll tells me that her owner has grown up. She fills up spaces with love letters and perfumes to draw teenage boys to her. The 'doll-days' are now a part of the forgotten part of her memory; the one she uses when she sheds silent tears on being heartbroken, time and again. She knows she cant go back. Not anymore.

I climb atop a closed bin, and look up at the sky. The sky is a smatter of pin points of light and a pale moon. A few stray clouds threaten to take away the sight, but it would be a long time before it happens. It seems the lazy tidings of the human race have seeped into the atmosphere, trickling, one emotion at a time.

I know not what to do now. I see the couple approach from the corner of my eye and then look at the moon.They disposed off the china when they thought no one was looking; no one intelligent enough. The broken china was a white, but someone had added occasional touches of crimson(blood?) to it. They had a secret, just like everyone else. Secrets. Something no one tells you about and you dont know them until you know them. I look at the moon, considering if I should share the secret. The moon almost nods in acknowledgment; my only true companion.

And then I howl.

"Did you see that dog looking at us? I think it knows!", she says, shivering at the thought, drawing close to him.
"You are thinking too much", he says, drawing her closer, his arm snaking around her slender waist. His eyes meet the dog's and they are locked for a moment. Then he looks straight ahead and continues walking into the night.

"No one would think of checking in the basement..."

9 comments:

Nikita Banerjee said...

Awesome! I love it...:)

Creation said...

spooky for sure!!!

Senorita said...

Cool, nicely written!

S said...

Very grasping and innovative :)

Cinderella said...

Gripping. Utterly gripping.

Reading you after long. Good to be here.

Preeti said...

i found the choice of narrator very unique. the point of view of an animal gives a very eerie feel to the entire plot. Also it symbolizes the hound of death. And is equipped the faculty of hypersensitivity...

what i liked in the narrative is the darkness and the fact that i feel chilled to the bone. there is the fear factor and the atmosphere (the night and the chill in the air) which is setting off the shivers. full points for that.

the writing is as always amazing. intelligent. the word play is extremely interesting. i loved "pieceless". its priceless... :D

waiting for more... :-)

Anonymous said...

loved it....awesome

Amrita said...

lovely!!

Nomad said...

I like this.

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