The filtered sunlight passing through the window woke me up and I stretched lazily, stifling a yawn. The twittering of the birds outside the window seemed strangely soothing. I blinked my eyes, rubbed them with my fists and then as the horror of the night sank in my heart, I stood up in an instant and looked around. Arti was still lying on the bed. With nervous steps, I walked ahead and shook her frame. The very next instant, I frowned. Arti had been unconscious for over sixteen hours since the time she had stirred in her sleep. This was totally absurd. Even if she had been given the maximum permissible quantity of chloroform, she should have been up by now. And then that remote possibility entered into my mind, locking my breath in my chest. What if…? No! Raw fear, far more than what I had faced last night engulfed me.
I hoped, I prayed I had not given her an overdose of that liquid. I dragged my shaking body to her bound form, lying peacefully on the bed. With shaking hands, I picked up her wrist and let go immediately. Those red bangles! I crossed over and examined the other hand. There too! I let it drop and the hand bounced off on the mattress and rested. No, I can't be scared of Arti. 'She is all that I have now,' I sighed and held Arti's hand again, disregarding the red bangles.
I felt her skin, right below the palm and then as I went lower and lower, I cringed, my expressions changing to increasing degrees of shock, then dread, finally followed by horror. I dropped her hand again, only to place my fingers beneath her nostrils.
With a cry of anguish never before experienced, I fell down on her lifeless body. I tore my hair, beat my chest and cried with tears that washed her lifeless face, the sound shaking the ground beneath me.
“Arti, my Arti… it can't be… how can you leave me now? When I have done everything, everything to achieve your love.
The Other Side
171 Don't desert me like this. Please, please wake up,” I cried, embracing her bridal frame. She remained as immobile to my love as she had been before. “No, Arti. I can't allow you to go. You will have to rise again for me, for my love. Death is too weak a barrier to separate me from you, to dilute what I feel for you,” I shouted as my voice echoed across the empty house.
I laughed, hollow at first and then a full-throated high-pitched sound that shook my whole body, I envisioned Arti in my arms again. How sweet she looked! Oh, that cherubic innocence of her face. There would be no end to our love. “Arti, I love you,” I whispered staring at her.
Did she just smile? I guess she did. She loves me too, isn't it? Oh, how happy I am. How beautiful the world seems suddenly! How lovely that sunrise!
I kissed Arti, lightly at first and then passionately embracing her lips with mine. Oh, how desperately had I waited for this day! Her skin felt cold but as smooth as wispy clouds in the sky. I pulled open the knots of her bondage and took her in my arms. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I jumped on her, digging my face into her silky black locks. I put my arms around her waist, pulling her in, deep within. Placing my steely lips on hers again, I sucked the nectar of the heavens. I threw open every barrier between our bodies and worshipped each fragment of her with my lips. I licked the buds and stroked the petals. Each part of my existence kissed each part of hers as I pumped into her, my pelvis quivering innumerable times, releasing the dormant passion of a decade and a half.
I couldn't stop. Not now. She was mine. I didn't want to stop even as the lights outside dimmed making it all the more romantic. I didn't stop even when the perfume of her tresses turned sweetly pungent, settling on a delicious rotten. I didn't stop even when I felt her body stir beneath mine. I didn't stop even when I heard her moan, slow almost wolf-like. I didn't stop even when she suddenly opened her red charcoal eyes to check on her lover but I did gasp and managed to mumble a final confession of my love for her when the two gruesome black hands with those red bangles, clanking their sweet tune, wrapped themselves around my throat.
“Here is a list of terrible things,
The jaws of sharks, a vultures wings
The rabid bite of the dogs of war,
The voice of one who went before,
But most of all the mirror's gaze,
Which counts us out our numbered days.”
¯ Clive Barker
The Mark of the Beast
The asphalt road ended at the Sari village. A young couple emerged from the taxi. Though the girl was wearing minimal makeup, unostentatious jewelery and was attired in the standard gear of her generation, a tee and Capri's; the dark henna adorning her hands and feet hinted at her newly married status. Her husband was dressed in an expensive designer T-shirt that he had purchased from Harrodson his last trip to London paired with jeans while his flashy chronograph, pointy leather shoes and shaded sunglasses drew attention from the pretty village lasses playing around. He smiled tenderly at Shalini, his newly acquired wife, soaking in the sun the moment his feet touched the ground.