THE SORRY SLUT : PART (III) : ARADHYA

TSS3

Aradhya was pondering upon the lines of a book, which she read and re-read. She saw a lot of Facebook notifications but ignored. She wasn’t in a mood. She was delving deep into the death of Gabriel Garcia Marquez; it was not that she couldn’t accept it, but it meant the end of an era; death is inevitable, but her mind started counting the philosophical equations of death. She tried to quibble but went blank over the letters. A flute version of Old Acquaintance embraced the magnolia of the evening.She logged into her Facebook account again, this time, in a pretty chaotic situation and a notification propped up. Sakyo Ghosh has tagged her in a status.
“ Finally , he has activated his fake profile ”, she thought. No, this time, she would put an end to all these. It was too much. She sat in the dark room, every drop of her tears, painting the story of her life on the canvas of her soft palms. It was not the sweet past she wanted to forget, but the acerbic tortures which had made her lose faith in life, faith in people, faith in men, and maybe women, too. Can a girl be trusted , who comes in between two lovers and snatches the male beloved? And then again, can true love be really snatched away? Aradhya was in a loop, a twisted one, full of drizzles that pierced through her skin. Shrugging off the memories haunting and clotting her mind, she placed her hands on the keyboard and started typing.
“ Stop using your fake id, Nabayan”, she commented and blocked him, ignoring his messages.
Chhandak picked up his phone from the floor and fixed it.
“ What happened? ” , he asked Panchali. She didn’t answer. He opened his internet again.
“Tell me something , Panchali “, he blurted out. “ Stop being silent”.
“ Sakyo Ghosh has tagged Aradhya in a status ”, she fumed.
“ And here you are trying to make out with me ”, words slipped from Chhandak’s mouth.Chhandak’s words didn’t seem to be an insult.It was something, which according to Panchali, formed the core of a relationship, discarding which, would lead to the dispersal of the seeds of love.
“She is a stupid silly girl “, Panchali fumed. “ Why the hell is she ruining my life ? “
“ Calm down, Panchali ”, Chhandak slapped. “ Stop insulting Aradhya. You and Nabayan have shown her the real life in the past one year. Now stop . ”
“ What do you mean to say ? This bitch is ruining my life here and …… ”
“ Think again, Panchali. Who came in between who!! ”
Panchali fell silent. What a dumb question it was, she thought. She was of course right. She didn’t let Nabayan live a life of hell, devoid of the lavishing scarlet patches on the skin, like the piece of apple, Eve had taken , a life without the chocolate smell of scratches. She was the savior, the angel who had actually shown Nabayan, the real life, the deity who had graced his life by becoming his companion, rejuvenating his dark skin with embellishments of red, making him feel good about his flabby bulges, and inhaling his sardonic breath without asking him to take mint.
“Panchali ”, Chhandak said. “ Think again. Do you really? ”
“ Think what? ”, Panchali asked holding Chhandak’s hands. This time, Chhandak could not move away, maybe , he felt she needed him.
“ She must be bugging him . ”
“ If that has been the reason, then why would Nabayan-da put up a status for her from his fake pro? ” , Chhandak replied. “ And moreover, why would he even create a fake pro with the name which Aradhya had given him? ” Like always, Chhandak’s words were crying on their aborted sentence. Panchali had completely ignored his speech and while he was busy philosophizing , she had made use of the chance to take Aradhya’s number from Chhandak’s phonebook. Panchali was adept in all these. She knew what to tell and who to tell. She was endowed with a perfect lexicon of words and a voice, which, would one day, sing the panegyric of life, but the chance, unfortunately, was on the hands of ‘idiots’ who never understood music.
“ What are you doing ? ” , Chhandak screamed, trying to stop her. Panchali moved her hands, and pressed her breasts and if Chhandak was to stop her, he would need to touch those obscurities , dropping on them, the dews of care, they were thirsty for. Chhandak sighed for he still had his conscience.
“ Hi, Aradhya di , ” Panchali called. Aradhya picked up her phone.
“ Umm…Who is it ? ”, she asked. She didn’t know Panchali’s number and she was not a kid anymore who would not pick up unknown numbers.
“ It is me, Panchali . ”
“Panchali, who? ”
“Nabayan’s girlfriend”.
“Yah? How can I help you ? ”
“Don’t you think you have done enough to help me?”
“ I am sorry, but I really can’t get you; what have I done?”
“Stop acting silly. ”
“Honestly, I can’t understand what you are trying to say. I had talked to you more than a year back; I had called up Nabayan and you picked up the phone telling me that you are his girlfriend and it was followed by a rain of words I would never use in my life”.
“Buzz off silly girl . You are ruining my life . ”
“ For God’s sake , ” Aradhya broke down . “ WHAT HAVE I DONE?”
“You talk to Nabayan from his fake pro . ”
“ I DON’T “, Aradhya cried. “ It is he who activates and deactivates his fake profile. It is he who messages me and I don’t even reply . And today after that status, I have blocked him “. Aradhya couldn’t speak. Her voice was choked. Panchali hung up.
Aradhya fell on her bed, the floral sheet, trying its best to soak the tears. The pain of the past has been ignited, the trauma raged storm in her heart. For the second time, she was accused of something which she had not done. Tears choked her voice, which seemed to be like a nightingale to Malhar, the voice, which would sing in a low tone like the first blow of wind into the flute. Things have gone beyond love, when humiliation honored the kisses. In the dark room, where the storm started, Aradhya succumbed to the injuries, the cancerous tumor in her heart, regained life in the hours of harassment for a past, which she rued to have. The continuous buzz of her cell phone broke through the modest , subtle halcyon song, continuously bothering the peace of the bed. Aradhya , enervated by the traumas the day brought her, desired peace in solitude and as she started delving deep into the notes, the repeated call dragged her to reach out to her cell phone. This time too, it was an unknown number.

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8 thoughts on “THE SORRY SLUT : PART (III) : ARADHYA

  1. i must say.. very intelligent you are. 😛 😀 very nice plot development
    and again.. the imagery and visualizations. tremendous.
    its as if that i can feel what TSS is going through. intemse stuf
    ki jinish mairi
    plus majhe majher thought interludes and the character descriptions by the narrator in that specific manner done is immensely appreciated. gives the entire read a different satisfaction.

    😀 😀

  2. I like those deep feelings that u describe through words.. its really kind of melody.. the strain in the writing, just goes though the reader’s heart… good one again 🙂

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