FRIDAY FROLIC - pt 3

“Madam, they are re-laying the roads here, elections are around the corner right.”,

the cab driver says and turns around to look at Nithya.

She had woken up by the sudden halt. And the bangles in her hand clam into one

another as she struggles to get a hold of the door. It is still raining cats and dogs.

She drags her feet like someone is forcefully pushing them and she blankly walks

towards her house.She is drenched, from head to toe. It was the ethnic day at work

today and her red sequin Anarkali sticks to her body.

She is home. And yet she doesn’t feel like it. The air in the room is sultry, and yet

there is the occasional soft stroking of the cool breeze.

Ah Bangalore at its best, but she does not see it. She reaches out for the switch and

presses her finger, it still remains dark.

Power cuts, the new additional feature of Bangalore.

It is a Friday night, the city awakens to frolic, and she? She has made plans for her

own frolic. Of course, not all would agree with her though.

She latches the doors, and checks on all the windows.

She stares at every line and crevice on her hand and tries to keep it steady, her legs

slipping against each tile, making a trail, stopping right under the fan. She looks up,

her eyes bulging out of her eyes, looking hopefully at that fan;

Minutes later:

The noose stands still, waiting to constrict her in every way possible and hug her

tightly till she has had enough. Maybe that’s what she needed.

A hug?

A hand?

Am I really doing this?

There is constant banter happening in her head and it is only adding to her purpose.

Yes, it seems easier, she thinks, as she places her head symmetrically in between

the noose.

“The darkness and I share a deep relation. I don’t see it and it can’t see me.

I feel its presence all over me and I know it senses mine.

I don’t need to acknowledge its presence and neither does it.

I don’t know its intentions and it doesn’t know mine.

We both like this.

No questions asked. No answers to be given.

The strangeness and emptiness that we are both familiar with, and then that

common fear: Light;

The light that drives you away and fills me with reality.”

And, And fills her with reality. The yellow light from the incandescent bulb lights

behind her head like a halo; The power is back, and reality hits her hard.

What was she thinking? She slaps herself and laughs till the tears give in.

She falls of the stool and shrivels like a dried up leaf. What follows is a long night.

She finds solace in her pillow, and the pillow a mere silent witness to what would be

remembered as a life-changing event.

Next day morning, as the sun’s rays caress her cheek, she feels a sense of warmth

take over her.

She is headed to her sister’s place. As the bus drives through the same traffic-filled

streets, she doesn’t feel like a slave anymore.

“This is Bengaluru, Idu nanna uru

(This is Bengaluru, this is my city)”

Rinosh’s voice echoes in her ears...