The Other Side
111 “That is a line from my book,” Abhijit recognized the dialogue from a story in Thirteen.
“Yes! And if you look hard enough, you'll find more things from your book around,” the woman winked.
Strangely Abhijit did not feel any emotion overtake his mind that was occupied with solving the conundrum of the woman's sudden appearance in his room. He looked at the whiskey glass in his hands. It still had something left, so he was not drunk. The cigarette he was smoking was a simple stick, so he was not hallucinating either!
“Abhijit, don't tell me you cannot recognize me,” the woman bemoaned. “You created me.”
“I created you? What does that mean?” Abhijit looked at the woman closely. She did look vaguely familiar but he could not really place her. He squinted at her and thought hard. She was petite, dusky, had delicate features and a hooked nose. Large wavy hair fell down her shoulders in cascades. Large expressive brown eyes, a generous mouth and a sharp pointed chin augmented her beauty. A faint feeling told him that he had seen this woman somewhere yet in the back of his mind he was sure he had not.
“Well, bestselling author, any conclusions?” the woman asked.
Abhijit shook his head in bewilderment; seemingly confused.
“So you cannot recognize your own creation?” she mocked again.
“Stop this nonsense. It is not as if you are my daughter or something. Tell me what is this all about!” Abhijit demanded.
She sneered in contempt and her nose quivered. “I hate this nose and you have given it to me. 'A hooked nose that curves down to touch her delicate lips?' Don't you know any other way to describe a nose?” the woman shouted at the top of her voice.
“Look miss! I don't know who you are. I have nothing to do with you. I don't even understand what are you doing in my house at this time of the night and how you got in. Please go away or I'll have to call the cops,” Abhijit threatened.
“You are trying to say you don't recognize me. Look you gave me this!” The woman screamed, undoing the top two buttons of her gown and pushing it off her shoulders, not bothering to hide the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra inside. Abhijit was shocked to see a series of ugly circular scars on her body below her neck, all the way till the top of her bust.
“Huh? Wh…What are those marks?” Abhijit quavered.
“Cigarette burns!” the woman hissed. “And you are responsible.”
“Me?” Abhijit could not take his eyes off her. Her almost perfect smooth skin was spoilt by the hideous burn marks that clouded her shapely chest. “I can't imagine doing that to anyone.”
The Other Side
113 “Yes, you can. And in fact, you have. You are responsible!” The unknown woman's eyes blazed with fury.
The woman was obviously a lunatic. She had to be, who else would go around in the cold in such a flimsy nightgown. He had to be tactful in handling her lest she hurt herself or him. There was nothing to do except humour her and get rid of her at the earliest. He got up, and patted her on the back. “Relax. Whatever is the matter; I am sure we can resolve it,” he said.
The woman recoiled. “Keep your filthy hands off me, you scoundrel. You have scarred my body, defiled my spirit and now you dare touch me?” She spat at his face, a thick red mucous-loaded liquid entering his shocked eyes, making them burn. She gestured with her hands and Abhijit found himself hit by a tremendous force. The force lifted him, throwing him back on his chair.
“Stay there! You cannot move. Stay back and pay for your sins,” the woman commanded.
Abhijit tried to move but found that he was unable to. It was as if someone had tied him to the table with invisible ropes that were boring into his flesh above his thick winter jacket.
“Please let me go!” he screamed, suddenly feeling afraid.
“How does it feel, Mr. Bestseller? You have played God all your life. You have molded our characters, our fates and our lives with impunity, with just a few strokes of your pen, or on whims of that fertile mind of yours. And now, we'll teach you a lesson. We will show you how it feels to be a puppet in hands of others, others… the very folks whom you have crafted and designed and thrown around to entertain the rubbish around,” the woman said, a sinister flame burning in her eyes.
“W...who are you and what do you want?” Abhijit stuttered.
“You still do not comprehend? It's high time to make you then… Come in, everyone!” the woman thundered and the walls shuddered in response.
Abhijit watched in horror, as the door to his bedroom broke open, a tall man wearing a black cloak entered followed by a huge black dog that resembled a wolf.