SALVATION BY DEATH

            As the rays reflected from the shiny surface of the blade hits my face, I look at the knife for the last time and taking a deep breath, I start walking towards the man standing in front of the grocery store. I stand right behind him and tao on his back. He slowly turns his head and looks at the unfamiliar face and says, "Yes, how can I..... " I stopped him there and thrusting my blade into his soft skin, I say, "I'm sorry. " I know that right now he is probably wondering, "Why? ". Believe me his eyes speaks so. Then pulling out the blade, I draw him close to me and I whisper into his ears, "Do you really want to die remembering my face. Close your eyes. Try to remember the ones you love and yes, Bon voyage. " I truly mean every word of that. I know that in my heart. Then he closes his eyes, breathes his last breath upon my face and the last warm that he is left with slowly vanishes. Releasing his body from my arms, I say, "and thus I claim my road to salvation. "
                              
            I see some people staring at me with awe. It's early in the morning. There isn't many. But I see people slowly gathering. This isn't surprising at all. I know I would see this. The look they have is nothing out of the ordinary. I knew I would see this look. I know what's coming. I truly never intended to do this in secret. I don't have any enmity with this person. Actually, it's a pity that it was this person. He must have had kids, whom I orphaned. Parents who would, in the next few hours, curse me more than anyone has in my entire life. To say truly it would have been no less pitier in any other case. But why pity. This death isn't for them. It's for me. I have done this for me.                    
           By now I see them whispering. What are they talking? What are they thinking? Are they thinking that it could have been them. I wonder. Yes it could have been them too. I never planned who to kill, or where to kill. I just knew I had to. But surely I know that's not at all what they are thinking right now. They are too afraid to think so. Are they angry? No, ofcourse not. Fear is way too overpowering, even more than anger. Now I see some familiar faces. I know what these people are thinking for the last few minutes. " Why?". 
      
            I turn my eyes towards the crimson dagger. I can almost smell it wreaking. It's tickling my nerves. Filing it with terror. Yet, I'm calm. Suddenly, I remember the dagger from the play Macbeth. It put a short but pure smile on my face. I see the blood trickling down the dagger and falling on the man's face.
        
           "Who is he! ", I exclaimed. "My gosh! " No I'm not feeling sorry. I am just thinking, I really don't know him. Who is he? Who is he?

           
            Ah! I can finally hear the sweet siren of salvation drawing near. I see the people slowly clearing the road, as men clad in suits come marching towards me with arms. I take a mere glance at them. Put a broad smile on my face as I closed my eyes, throw the dagger, raise my hands, as if I'm embracing heaven itself and shout in my loudest voice, "Come my brothers, come. Take me to my chariot. "

A FEAR SO FAMILIAR

        I and Jessica, we were friends since 2nd grade. Yes, friends. No more, no less. And no I was not friendzoned. Never had to (nor needed to) get out of that. She was not only my friend but my neighbour too. Yep, she was the girl next door (no pun intended).

       By now you must be wondering, what's with the past tense. Well, she was a great friend of mine. Someone with whom I loved sharing my thoughts. She knew me better than any friend of mine did. Things remained that way till last year's summer. A night that still gives me the chills. That night something unexpected happened. Something that even she didn't ever think of. (Don't use your polluted mind right away. Wait till the story ends).

        It was April 15th. Despite of the wrath that Ra poured on us for the last few days, today was a bit of a  relief. It seemed that it might rain after all. Although the Met department said not to expect any sort precipitation any soon, where as you might expect a whole lot perspiration (that wasn't at all funny). My exams were near. Had to study the entire day. Night seemed to creep in pretty fast.

        Usually I go to Jessica's house when it's almost 9 or 10 at night. To take a break. She has a brother too. He is just 2 year younger than me. We are good friends. Yup, not brother but friends. Anyways that day it felt like I overworked myself. I had a lot of assignments to finish. It was 7 in the evening. And I was studying since 5 o'clock in the morning. I was tired. Thought of taking a break early. I asked mom if I could go out a bit, to take in some fresh air. To my utter surprise she didn't scold me. Usually she does if I ask to go out at the time of study.

       I went out. I thought I would go to the phuchka shop to have some. And I remembered Jessica asked last day that she wanted to have phuchka but always forgets to buy when she goes out or just goes short of money. I thought I should get some for her. While returning from the shop and walking towards her house I saw the red slowly diffusing the sky. And the entire canvas of the sky looked like a crimson river. Wind has picked up speed by the time I reached her house. I thought, 'to hell with the Met department'.

        I pressed her bell. She came out. She seemed lost in thoughts. Anyways, that didn't stop me from talking shit. I kept on babbling. I noticed that she didn't even ask what was in my hand. So I told her that I have brought some phuchkas for her. She didn't seem to pay any heed to what I said. So, I went in.

        The house seemed empty. I asked her where aunty was. She didn't say anything. But I felt she nodded. And 'bhai'(her brother, yeah I do call him brother). She without answering my question sat on a seat around the dining table. I said, " care to have some phuchkas?". She didn't reply as usual. Now it felt a bit concerning. Then I asked in a firm voice,"Hey, is everything Ok?". "Did Neel (her BF) said anything? ", I asked. Finally she replied. "No, everything's fine. I was just thinking about something". "What's that?" "Nothing much", she said. "Let's have those phuchkas that you bought and..... " she continued for some time.

       Meanwhile I brought a knife to cut the knot of the packet, which seemed almost impossible for me to untie. I was about to cut the knot when a sudden stormy wind came thrashing at the windows and I missed the knot and cut my finger. Damn. That was painful. And as the omens of day was looking, followed the power cut next. All this time she was silent again. Now she slowly got up and searched for some candles and lit them.

       Suddenly I felt nervous, in front of her. I never felt like that before. She looked a bit scary. Suddenly she spoke, 'You are hurt.' She took my hand and put it into her mouth. That was first grade first aid technique. I was feeling relieved that she is acting normal. But is she? Her eyes were red shot. She had a dangerous look in her eyes. I don't know whether I was imagining all that. Maybe the atmosphere added a lot to the already eerie feeling I was having the moment I stepped in her house. I forcefully took my hand out of her mouth. She didn't make a noise. She didn't move. She just stared blankly at nothing. I went to the basin to wash my hand. As I turned around, a chill went down my spine. There she stood at the same spot only now with a knife in her hand.

     I was speechless as she slowly approached me. I couldn't move. I froze. She tried to stab me. She missed but she surely made a scar. Because I felt a pain shot through my entire body. I didn't know that at that point what was more strong, the pain or the fear.

        Then the lights came back up. Somehow that helped me to gain my senses back. She still looked at me with evil eyes. A look that I have never seen before. A look that I will never forget.

        Then, I pushed her into the ground and ran for the exit. I knew she tried to get up and catch me. But I ran fast. I ran for my life. I knew that if I wasted any more time. I might lose my life to a friend whom I have known almost my entire life. Whom I have trusted till today.

        I ran to my house. It was raining heavily by now. And as I entered inside my house and locked the gates I saw her standing in her balcony. She was staring at me. Her dead and cold eyes fixed at me. Then as I rushed towards my mother's room, I faded. Well evidently, I woke up at the hospital. And as soon as I woke up, I told my parents everything that happened. They said that they knew and that I was lucky to come out of that house alive. They said that she killed everyone of her family. Only leaving her brother, who was not at home at that time.

      

        Now it's been 5 years that she has been sent to mental hospital. A lot of people say a lot of stuff about what happened that night. But only I know what kind of terror she truly yielded that night. Only I know what fear she truly etched on my heart.

       Sometimes strange things happen in your life that you can't explain with plain logic. I'm not saying she was possessed. I'm just saying that she wasn't the Jessica that I grew up with. Maybe there is an explanation. Maybe there is a reason. Maybe something did happen. But we may never know that. We may never know the truth.

THE BREATH OF THE SHADOWS

          Fear. What is fear? The unpleasant emotional state consisting of psychological and psychophysiological responses to a real or imaginary external threat or danger. But is that enough to define what fear truly is. You can never understand true fear unless you feel it for yourself.

         And that brings me to a time before me. Year 1990. Three years before I was born. My parents lived in a joint family that was slowly but steadily breaking apart. It wasn't a bad thing though for the ones who stayed back (which included my parents and my father's youngest brother) on my forefather's land (in Baguiati) because they had the entire land for themselves. It just meant a little more space for each person.

        The last person to leave the house was my father's youngest sister. And it was on this auspicious day of her reception that my mother encountered something which will haunt her whenever she is alone in the dark.

        Now one thing that you all should know that my family wasn't that well off. We hardly could make our ends meet. So our house wasn't that luxury of a house too. It had it's drawbacks. It had it's shortcomings. But nonetheless it was the house that gave us shelter for around 50 years.

        November 23rd. Winter breeze was blowing from the north. It was the day when the story happened. Our family have been busy the entire day. Especially since my grandparents passed away and my parents were the eldest. So, naturally all the duty fell on them. It was the day of reception but still there was lot to be done. The reception was to be held at Howrah. So, naturally it took a lot of time to go and return.

         By the time the vehicle returned home after dropping everyone at their respective houses, it was half past midnight. Cold winter nights usually have a natural malness in the air. My mother was the one to unlock the door and enter. My aunt also entered the house and went to her room to change. My mom went to her own room, while my father and my uncle was paying off the driver.

         Naturally after having travelled a long distance as such she desperately needed to use the bathroom. As I told you that my family wasn't that well off, I failed to mention that it meant our house had insufficient amenities like lack of lighting at certain places and water related issues.

       The position of the bathroom was actually weird. It seems a bit funny to me now when I think that one had to actually leave the house and go a bit distance to enter the bathroom. Now imagine doing that in a cold winter night. With obviously no lights. It already gives me the creeps. Anyways my mother left the house and passing the well that stood there since the time the house was made, she entered the bathroom. It was a broken dilapidated one. Moon light creeps in from here and  there. Which could have been a source of light, if not it was a New Moon night. She didn't bring any candles with her, because she was really in a hurry. As she went in she didn't feel right at the beginning, but she went in anyways. She, slowly minding her steps, went in a little further. And as she was about to finish what she had come for, she thought she felt a breath on her arms. She held her breath for a second and again she felt a breath on her arms. An unknown yet strong fear gripped her heart. She froze for a second. Then she slowly stepped back. And as she tried to run out of the bathroom something tried to grab her but failed. She didn't look behind for a second. She screamed and she ran. Hearing the screams my father and uncle came running. They already had the torches with them. They ran towards the bathroom as my mom aimed her finger towards that ugly looking pile of brick that somehow came to life nurtured by the darkness that shrouded every inch of it and the screams of my mother poured an evil soul into it. As my father rushed towards it with the torch, there was nothing but an empty echo of a terror that dwelled there minutes ago reliving itself again and again with every echo of her scream. That night she hardly slept.

         After that night. That bathroom was taken down. And a new loo space was built adjacent to the house so that no one had to go out at the middle of the night. And it was properly lit. That night not only scared my mom, but everyone of the house and whoever heard the story. But what my mother felt can't be empathized, can't be felt.

         She told me that story many a times. She said she can't forget that night. She still dreams about that night. When I ask her that," Why so? Are you still scared about that night? ". She says that yes, she was scared but not now. Now it's not the fear of the event that scares her or keeps her awake and gives her nightmares. Now, it's the curiosity that keeps her awake. The curiosity to know who it truly was. Or so to say, what it truly was.