I think I am going crazy.
The pitter-patter of little feet would have made me smile before. Today, however, I am paralyzed. With each childish footstep and the following innocent giggles, my heart sinks and I rethink every single intention of mine to marry my fiance.
Trust me, Viraj, you will see it. You will definitely come face to face, and you will be scared. You will be scared Viraj, and you will not know what you should do. And that is what it does, that is what it wants to do all along. It will play with you, and it will make you question every thing you ever felt about her.
The dark room is not dark enough, and I soon realize, finding me crouching on the cold marble floor would be nothing besides child's play. I see the child's chubby little foot in the family mirror in front of me, and then I see the cold silver steel for a bit more than a single instance. Something about the way the steel shone, made me sweat, and it made me gasp.
And one gasp is enough. The footsteps stop. The giggles cease. Through the corner of my eyes, I see a small little curly haired head turn.
I try to not look directly at it, and end up gazing at its smile. And what bothers me most was, how even while the tiny little cherub hands reached slowly for the silver steel, it's smile was undeniable child-like. Innocent.
Not just a little kid, Viraj, Manmadhan.
Never did I think, I would believe in such old wives tales. However, in this case, the old wives weren't paying the price for love. It was simple. And incredible. And people somehow fail to see that incredible is used in a negative connotation. The legend was well to the point, Manmadhan would do anything to see true love. Armed with a silver steel bow and arrow, Manmadhan would not smile all the time.
I am telling you, I don't think you love her. Don't go ahead with this if you have even one small ounce of doubt.
But I love her.
I see a shadow sweep past the wall in front of me and it comes to a rest in front of the old Victorian mirror. I can see it now.
A three foot fair skinned child, curly golden hair swaying with the wind that didn't exist. All it wore was a pitiful white diaper with an enlarged silver steel pin, and I can see some vague undiscriminating stains on the white cloth, which look unusually like dried blood. On its chubby back, it sports a silver steel container full of fine arrows that seem to shine in an unholy eerie mist, which surrounds Manmadhan itself. Till now I can see its back alone, but it soon it steps out from behind the wooden desk it had hid itself behind.
A smile that every mother would be proud of, a shining silver steel bow rests within its hands. Its hands rested well on its chubby stomach and it breaks out into a nice little smile. I am almost mesmerized as it slowly pulls back the arrow with unexpected dexterity. It is not holy, it is now sacred. I can see the evil that it exudes from within, with its childish smile and the unearthly giggle.
I am extremely afraid now. But I cannot move. I am forced to think. I definitely do love her. I have loved her from the day I met her. I have always called her up every day and told her how much I loved her. She knows I love her. I have always made it very clear. I love her.
The arrow strikes me clean in between my eyes. And so does something else.
Do I, really?
I open my eyes and I see her, standing over my head, crying. She hugs me as soon as I can get up. She explains how everyone found me unconscious in the old attic next to the old Victorian mirror. I touch my forehead and I find no mark of an extremely sharp silver steel arrow. She explains how the doctors have no explanation for it besides extreme stress. I confess, to myself, I am baffled as well. But some how things seem clearer now.
I look to my right and I see a mother holding her new born son, and crying in joy. I see the father doing the same as well. A fair skinned little child, that looks me directly in my eye.
' I don't want to marry you.' I find myself saying. And I know she will ask me my reasons very soon. I am very clear. I know exactly what to say.
Ed Lithium
The pitter-patter of little feet would have made me smile before. Today, however, I am paralyzed. With each childish footstep and the following innocent giggles, my heart sinks and I rethink every single intention of mine to marry my fiance.
Trust me, Viraj, you will see it. You will definitely come face to face, and you will be scared. You will be scared Viraj, and you will not know what you should do. And that is what it does, that is what it wants to do all along. It will play with you, and it will make you question every thing you ever felt about her.
The dark room is not dark enough, and I soon realize, finding me crouching on the cold marble floor would be nothing besides child's play. I see the child's chubby little foot in the family mirror in front of me, and then I see the cold silver steel for a bit more than a single instance. Something about the way the steel shone, made me sweat, and it made me gasp.
And one gasp is enough. The footsteps stop. The giggles cease. Through the corner of my eyes, I see a small little curly haired head turn.
I try to not look directly at it, and end up gazing at its smile. And what bothers me most was, how even while the tiny little cherub hands reached slowly for the silver steel, it's smile was undeniable child-like. Innocent.
Not just a little kid, Viraj, Manmadhan.
Never did I think, I would believe in such old wives tales. However, in this case, the old wives weren't paying the price for love. It was simple. And incredible. And people somehow fail to see that incredible is used in a negative connotation. The legend was well to the point, Manmadhan would do anything to see true love. Armed with a silver steel bow and arrow, Manmadhan would not smile all the time.
I am telling you, I don't think you love her. Don't go ahead with this if you have even one small ounce of doubt.
But I love her.
I see a shadow sweep past the wall in front of me and it comes to a rest in front of the old Victorian mirror. I can see it now.
A three foot fair skinned child, curly golden hair swaying with the wind that didn't exist. All it wore was a pitiful white diaper with an enlarged silver steel pin, and I can see some vague undiscriminating stains on the white cloth, which look unusually like dried blood. On its chubby back, it sports a silver steel container full of fine arrows that seem to shine in an unholy eerie mist, which surrounds Manmadhan itself. Till now I can see its back alone, but it soon it steps out from behind the wooden desk it had hid itself behind.
A smile that every mother would be proud of, a shining silver steel bow rests within its hands. Its hands rested well on its chubby stomach and it breaks out into a nice little smile. I am almost mesmerized as it slowly pulls back the arrow with unexpected dexterity. It is not holy, it is now sacred. I can see the evil that it exudes from within, with its childish smile and the unearthly giggle.
I am extremely afraid now. But I cannot move. I am forced to think. I definitely do love her. I have loved her from the day I met her. I have always called her up every day and told her how much I loved her. She knows I love her. I have always made it very clear. I love her.
The arrow strikes me clean in between my eyes. And so does something else.
Do I, really?
I open my eyes and I see her, standing over my head, crying. She hugs me as soon as I can get up. She explains how everyone found me unconscious in the old attic next to the old Victorian mirror. I touch my forehead and I find no mark of an extremely sharp silver steel arrow. She explains how the doctors have no explanation for it besides extreme stress. I confess, to myself, I am baffled as well. But some how things seem clearer now.
I look to my right and I see a mother holding her new born son, and crying in joy. I see the father doing the same as well. A fair skinned little child, that looks me directly in my eye.
' I don't want to marry you.' I find myself saying. And I know she will ask me my reasons very soon. I am very clear. I know exactly what to say.
Ed Lithium
2 comments:
What an intriguing storyline... and what an awesome ending!!! Really well written.. :)
wow!!!!!this is different!!!1but hwatever u write ur themes r very different!!!!not many pple can write the unconventional!!keep it up!!!
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