......... And They Call It Love ....

It seemed to me that I might fall down...

It was the darkest night I have ever seen. ..

Everything around me was so silent that I kept hearing my own heartbeats…

It was a bit odd … Everything was not normal … I was sitting alone in the balcony-railing. I was alone in my apartment on 24^th floor of the Skyscraper situated in the heart of Kolkata. I looked at my feet. The empty road, which was almost 100 meter underneath, seemed very near to me. As if just one step farther and I might reach it.

I was alone but I sensed someone beside me. I sensed Manisha, I smelled her, I sensed her touch, the way she used to play with my hair, the way we touched each other, the way she came closer to me…

Manisha… All I could think about were her eyes, the scent of her and the curses!! .. The curses she scattered over my life, the curses I tried to wipe off every day. The memories I tried to forget, haunted me every day. The more I pushed Manisha off from me, the more she came nearer.

                                                *        *        * 

The day I first met her was about one year ago. I was coming out of a shopping mall and she was standing near a taxi. May be she boarded that taxi later or she came to the mall by it, all I can remember was that she was smiling at me. I was surprised because it was not a regular thing. I am not that good looking that every day one or two beautiful girls smile at me. So I was rather amazed. Manisha wore a green salwar; she smiled at me while adjusting her ‘dupatta’. I kept staring at her. It was not her beauty that attracted me but her eyes. Her eyes told me about her. It kept saying her stories to me.

Her eyes were like of a scared fawn. It seemed to me that the world would not let her to survive. It seemed to me that she wanted to escape, escape from the known world. It seemed to me that she was searching for a place to hide; she wanted to hide inside me. I kept remembering her eyes long after I left the place. I kept dreaming of her eyes long after the night was gone. She kept haunting my every night’s sleep and one day it seemed to me that I needed her.

We met again in the same place after five or six days. I was struggling with my shopping bag when she approached and asked me,

“May I help you?”

“No, Thanks anyway”, I said to her. I was not ready to take help from a lady.

“But it’s too heavy”. She insisted.

“Life is a struggle, isn’t it?”  I tried to be smart before her.

She smiled and said to me, “Yes, it is. But that does not mean you’ll not take help”. I became amazed again. She was smarter.

I gave up; we both held my bag to carry it towards my car. My driver Abdul came out of the car and we handed over the bags to him.

“Where do you live?” She asked.

“Why?” I was sceptical.

She smiled again but didn’t answer.

“Where do YOU live?” I threw the same question at her.

“Do you want to come or do you want to invite me to come?” She glared at me.

I was not sure about what to say. I just stared at her eyes, those beautiful eyes.

“Come; let’s have a cup of coffee”. She replied.

I opened the car door for her and asked Abdul to drive us to a nearby coffee-shop.

The next hour we spent in a Café Coffee Day shop. It was a summer day. Many couples gathered there to have coffee or to spend some time together. Many of them were looking at us because probably we didn’t look like a couple. It was vividly clear to them that I was not feeling cosy with her. May be it was her beauty or her eyes that distracted me from my coffee. I was looking at her when she was busy with her Cappuccino.

She knew that I was looking at her. She finished her cup and calmly said to me,

“Haven’t you been with a lady before?”

“Why?” I asked.

“You don’t know how to behave properly.” She smiled.

I was stammering. I didn’t know what to say. I just couldn’t speak before her beautiful eyes. They dragged me towards them. Every time I intended to tell her something, her eyes shut me up.

We met regularly after that day. I just kept staring at her and she did all the talking. Every day it seemed to me that I’d not survive without her.

“So! What do you do actually?” She asked me one day.

I was not sure of the answer. As a businessman I should have something to do but actually I had no work. My partner was busy doing all the works while I enjoyed the profit share only.

“I don’t do anything.”

She stared at me for a few moments and finally replied. 

”You should do something then”.

I regretted for not doing anything, I regretted telling that to her.

“Actually I have nothing to do. All I can do is just relax or be with you.”

She smiled again but this time she didn’t say anything.

                                                *        *        * 

From that day on I always thought about doing something but couldn’t find one. I thought of doing something to impress her but I actually got no chance.

I called my partner Jayanta. Affectionately they called him Johnny. Jayanta was a gentleman from top to bottom, ladies liked him and he used to like ladies surrounding him. I was kind of jealous with him because I was totally opposite. He was smart, a cigarette was there always on his lips and it kept swinging on them so brilliantly while talking that I always kept looking at his lips and the ladies surrounding him used to ask,

“Johnny Johnny! Eating sugar?”

“No papa!” he replied and they burst out laughing after that leaving me looking like an idiot with no sense of humour.

I called Johnny.

“Hello Partner!! Where have you been now-a-days?”

“Listen! I have something to tell you”. I went straight into business.

“Whoa!! Whoa!!  Ok. Let me think! You want to tell something. What it could be?”

“Listen Jayanta. I need some work here.” I never called him Johnny, I never liked that name.

“Work... U said work?? Ha-ha!! Are you serious buddy?”

“Yes I am. No matter what you think I am coming office today and I want to do something.”

“Listen buddy!” He sounded serious. ”You don’t need to come. We will have a working lunch together and we will discuss about recent performance there. I am doing my work here and you just keep faith on me. You don’t need to worry about anything. Are you listening? Hello! Are you there?”

“Yes! I am here Jayanta and I will think about it.” I ended the conversation.

                                      *        *        * 

I reached my office at about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Some of the security guards and senior employees still recognised me and wished me a good day. I went straight to the office of my partner. The door was open and I entered straight into the room.

He was sitting in the chair, facing the window behind his table.

I waited for sometimes hoping that he would turn around but he showed no sign of it. So I began talking.

“Listen Jayanta! From now on I will be looking after the business. You may come to office or take rest at home, it doesn’t bother me. But I want the same status as yours in office and that’s final!”

Still he was looking at the window as if he was ignoring me.

“Are you listening to me? ARE YOU?? MR.JOHNNY!!??” I shouted at the full pitch of my voice.

I went in front of him. His eyes were wide open but he was looking at nothing. I touched her face, it was stiff. I looked at his tie, the pink tie, that was imported from England and that I envied many times, it was fastened around his throat and that was what caused the death. The death of my partner, it was the end of Johnny!

The tie was still in my hand and I was feeling weak in my knees. Suddenly I looked at the door and saw one employee was looking at me with disbelief in his eyes. I just kept saying, “No! No!” and I ran towards him. He sprang out of the door and when I came out I couldn’t find him. I ran like a mad man out of the office without wasting anytime.

Five minutes ago I was a non-working head of a business and now I became a prime suspect of the murder of my partner. Life changes so fast that we sometimes cannot cope up with it.

*        *        * 

I was confused. Should I go to police and tell them that I didn’t do it? Or may be hiding was a better option, though I didn’t know which one was a better solution. The only person I could think about was Manisha. I was sitting alone in a bench facing the setting sun in a park when somebody touched me from behind. It was Manisha.

“Hey!! I was just thinking about you.” I exclaimed.

“I know.” And she smiled, I looked at her smiling face and it seemed to me all the problems were solved. A strange feeling of peace loomed over my body. It was beautiful.

“Manisha! Jayanta has been murdered and they suspect it was me who did it.”

“But you didn’t do it.” She sounded unusually calm.

“How could I? He was my partner.”

“A partner,” She paused a bit,” a partner who made you looking like an idiot before the world. A partner, whom you always obeyed and who gave you nothing in return, you call him a partner? ” She sounded unfamiliar to me.

“I  ... I don’t understand.”

“I killed him.” She told in an icy voice.

“You??? How???? I mean why????” I was nearly shouting.

“It’s very easy to kill those men who fall for beautiful women. I pretended to kiss him and when he got closer I strangled him with his own tie.” She touched my hand.

“Why did you do it Manisha?” I was clueless.

“It’s for your dear. It’s for your own sake. He had to die.”

“You did it for me?” I started loving her again and I started falling for her in a new way.

She smiled at me and said. “You know better.”

“But the police will be after me and I cannot tell them your name. What should I do Manisha?”

She thought for a while.

“Is there someone who can act as your witness?”

“Witness???”

“Let them arrest you dear and when the case will be taken to court, your witness will make a statement that you were with him or her.”

“Does that work? Are you sure?”

“Do you believe in me or not?” She looked into my eyes and I had no reason to contradict her.

“Maybe Madhu would be a witness.”

“Who is Madhu?”

I told her about Madhu. Madhu was my wife. At least that was the definition of the relation we had in government records. At the first night of our marriage she confessed to me about having a relation with another man and the next morning she went to him leaving me without any clue about who he was and where they lived. As I didn’t say anything for what she did, she presumed me as a good man and left her personal mobile number in my notebook. I never tried to contact her after that.

“Call her and ask her to be your witness. I think she is grateful to you and it wouldn’t be a problem.” Manisha said.

“May be. But I am not sure. I don’t want to see her again.”

“Why?”

“Actually… I cannot forgive her for what she did to me and I cannot punish her too. I think she doesn’t suit me.”

Manisha smiled at me and stood up.

“Call her, just know where she lives and meet with her.” She smiled.

“I will.”

She turned back and touched my face and said.

“You know dear, I have a different approach to these problems.”

I looked at her eyes; she looked mysterious before the setting sun.

“If something does not suit you, kill it.”

*        *        * 

I called Madhu from a public telephone booth.

“Hey!! What’s up?? ” She sounded quite normal. As if nothing ever happened in between us. I remained silent so she asked again.

“Hello! Where have you been now-a-days? I called you someday before but you didn’t answer?”

“I am in problem Madhu.” I paused a bit. “Grave problem,” I repeated.

“Why? What happened?” She sounded unnecessarily caring. I knew she didn’t care for me, why would she?

“We need to talk Madhu. Can I get your address?”

“Oh! Sure. Write down it. Oh! And please come and leave before eleven. My hubby is very possessive and he doesn’t like men around me.” She laughed at her own joke, I could hear it.

Hubby!! I laughed too. He was the one who once trespassed in my life and now I became stranger in their lives. I laughed again. Life changes so fast that we sometimes cannot cope up with it.

When I reached Madhu’s home, it was nearly evening. It was a beautiful bungalow with decorated garden in front of it. The moment I stepped on the carefully mowed lawn, I felt like exploring around the house. I went to the backyards of it.

There was a swimming pool behind the bungalow. I saw something floating in the water; I went closer to get a better view of it. What I found was totally shocking to me, it was body of a lady and blood was dripping from it into the water. My sixth sense told me that it might be none other than Madhu. I jumped into the water and dragged the dead body out of the water. A carving fork was stuck in her throat. The scene was horrifying. I immediately left the place, got into my car and asked Abdul to take me home. He was surprised and was constantly looking at me as I was panting, my face had turned pale and my apparels were wet totally.

I knew who did this.

“Do you know where Manisha madam lives?” I asked Abdul.

Abdul looked at me bluntly and finally managed to ask,

“Sorry Sir? “

“Manisha ma’am.” Pitch of my voice was a little bit up.

Abdul looked confused. He asked again, “Sorry sir but I can’t remember her. Have I seen her lately?”

“Abdul!! Are you joking with me? You have seen her many times. Actually she was with me last night also. You cannot remember her?”

Abdul looked at me strangely and said

“Sir. As far as I know, nobody visited you in last three or four months.”

I felt like killing him.

“Abdul! Get out of my sight or I might kill you.” I shouted.

Abdul stopped the car. I came out of it, opened the driver’s door and said,

“Get out of the car.” I said in a cold voice.

Abdul promptly jumped out of it.

I sat in the driver seat and drove it away. When I reached home it was nearly twelve at night.

‘I should call her’ I said to myself, ‘why is she doing like that? What’s her motto?’

I took out my mobile but to my surprise her number was not there. I searched my address book; there was no entry in the name of Manisha. In the next half an hour I searched my desk, my diary, my office documents, I searched every corner of the house but I didn’t find anything related to her, even any paper with a name Manisha scratched on it. I didn’t find anything.

‘Where is she?’ I felt like crying.

I felt like shouting in the dark ‘M-A-N-I-S-H-A’.

I felt like a lost child.

Suddenly I was horrified by the silence. Nobody was there, I was totally alone. It seemed to me that I was drowning in the dark. It seemed to me like I was dying.

I found the TV remote lying in the floor, I switched it on.

Voices of living men assured me of my life. I sighed.

Breaking news was being telecasted there.  Ex-husband killed woman.

I came out in the balcony and sat on the railings.

It was the darkest night I have ever seen.

I was alone but I sensed someone beside me. I smelled her.

It was Manisha, she was smiling at me.

“Why did you do all these?”

“I love you.” Manisha said with her eyes closed.

I cried. She hugged me. I tried to push her off but she came nearer and I lost control over myself.

                             -------------- x --------------------

Kolkata Morning News:
Middle aged man killed his ex-wife, partner and finally suicidesKolkata: A man, aged around 35 killed his ex-wife and his business partner brutally and finally committed suicide in a single day. His body was found lying in the car parking in the apartment where he lived. Police suspected that he jumped from the balcony.He killed his business partner in the daylight by strangling him with a tie in his own office. Police reported that an employee saw the incident and reported it to police. He killed his wife with a fork. The present husband of the woman complained to the Police that he saw the man coming out of his home and when he entered home he found his wife’s body floating in the swimming pool behind the house.Police have arrested the man’s driver who claimed that he knew nothing of the killing but he suspected that his master was a bit restless now-a-days.Police department made a statement that it was a clear case of killing to take revenge and while they were tracking him, the killer committed suicide already.People, who knew him, confirmed that recently he developed some mental problem, he stopped contacting everybody and he was often seen talking with his own. 

                                      ----------- X ------------

The Beauty of Secrets

What makes us different from our peers? Is it the house that we live in or the car we drive? What defines us? Is it just the superficial beauty,which we have no hand in? Or is it something else? Something deeply ingrained in us.. Something that is so deeply rooted in us, that defines what we do, even before we realize it....


..That is our character.


An intriguing facet of human character is affinity for Secrecy. Be it out of fear, out of joy, or may be malicious intent... we are adept at creating an air of mystery. However, the temptation break the cycle of secrecy is often inexplicably overwhelming not only for those who are sworn to secrecy, but often they perpetrator themselves. Yes, I have had many a treasured secrets, either being sworn to it or creating it! And I admit I have spilled many a beans. Weather changes, time passes, and oath of life of some bygone time is merrily forgotten at the spur of a moment! And thus some yesteryear secrets of someone, becomes a tea-table gossip of everyone! 


I return home from college by bus. There’s a train route, but I prefer the buses for various reasons. First, I am always sure to get a comfortable seat --for I board from the Depot. Secondly, the route is scarcely crowded unlike the trains, which are bursting at the rivets at the peak evening hour crowd-bursts.
Although some time is wasted as the bus snakes through the congested city-road, but breathing the cold

evening air from the window seat of a speeding bus is an intoxicating feeling in it’s own right. Time flies by as I hum my way through the seven stops to the place I call my ‘sweet home’. Nobody hears my songs over the dean and bustle of the droning bus engine and cacophony of the passengers. 
It was like any other day of my ‘bus'-y schedule except that a pretty lady chose to sit next to me right from the depot. It is not that the bus was something ‘Men Only’ or, that a lady never sat beside me, No! It was special because the girl was very pretty-- I’d rather say beautiful, and I have never seen a pretty girl with such poise, without even a hint of snobbish air! She was quite at ease sitting beside a total stranger who was visibly almost gawking at her! She was wearing a pink salwar and her earthly skin tone matched it well. She was in her twenties. As if drugged by the sweet fragrance that hung about her, I kept staring at her, albeit bordering on leeching! She looked at me through the corner of her eyes yet I couldn't take my eyes off her! I was about to collect myself, before somebody labeled me a standard leech, divine extraordinary happened, guess what? She smiled back at me! 
“Oh she smiled at me!” It was love at first sight for me… I felt some butterflies in my stomach, yet a pain scratched across my mind-- my love would last for only Seven stoppages of the bus!
She was with her friend who was standing near the seat behind us. She offered her friend to sit in her place. I mumbled silent “No’s” under my breadth!
“No! I am fine Anushka.” Her friend said and I thanked God, again!
So her name was Anushka. I wanted to tell her that I never heard such a beautiful name in my life, but the man in front of me was reading a newspaper, and there was a picture of Anushka Shankar on that. The news was “Anushka expecting a baby.” I controlled myself!
Anushka turned back and eyed the seat behind us. A young commuter was sitting on it, probably returning from his college or office.
“Can you please stand up? Let my friend have a seat.” She asked him.
“But these are not ladies seats.” The man protested. All men are not impressed by beauty, I sighed!
“You should. She is not well today.”, Anushka was adamant.
“No! Anushka, I am fine here.” The friend protested.
“Actually I’m also not well today.” The man desperately clung to his seat.
“Frankly speaking Mister” She kept her voice low. “She is having her periods.”
The man jumped up from his seat. The friend of Anushka was vividly embarrassed. Her cheek turned red. I kept looking outside the window as if I hadn't heard a thing! Such a feisty girl! Secrets are meant to be told!




The Second Stoppage came………..




Her phone rang. I kept my ears open as I was very much interested in obtaining her mobile number.
“Hello!” She said.
My God! What a phone! That phone could be used for an walkie-talkie easily! What a voice-clarity! I was listening to what the caller was talking clearly. My eagerness could also have affected my senses with extra clarity on the face of such an opportune-crisis!
“You got my letter?” The caller enquired-- a male voice.
“Letter! Who’s speaking?”

“Abhishek.”
“Oh! Hi! Yeah! I got it.” Anushka replied!
“So! What’s your answer?”
“I’ll think about it. Ok?”
“Why are you not saying just ‘yes’ Anu!” The caller pleaded, he could as well be on his knees-- I guessed from the tone of his desperation!
“Look Abhishek. I’ll call you tomorrow. Ok? Now Bye!” Anushka said firmly.
“Anu… Please keep the letter a secret. Please.”
“Ok!”


I was thinking who that could be. His lover or just his friend wanting to be a lover. Who?




The third stoppage came…..




Anushka turned to her friend.
“June. Your brother called.”
“Abhi?? Called you? Why??” She was surprised.
“He has fallen in love with me.”
“Abhi??? Are you serious???”
“Yes! I got a letter too” Anushka chuckled.
She handed a folded piece of paper over to June.
“But he is younger to us.” June still could not believe her ears.
“Just read it.”


Some silent moments passed. It was June who talked first.
“I just can’t believe it.”
Anushka was about to tell her something but her mobile rang. I straightened up, ears straining!
“Hello!”
“Hi Anu!” This time it was a female voice. I sighed in relief.
“Hi Manjusree! What happened?”

“Hey! What were you two doing in garden today?”
I held my breath again.
“Who?” Anushka smiled.
“Rahul and you.”
“Oh my god! You saw us? “ She laughed.
“Please! Please! Please! Tell me! Tell me! “ She was ecstatic.
“Ok ! But he told me to keep it secret. Actually he proposed me.”
I sighed again. This time it was in agony. My luck had always betrayed me whenever I was near my goals. It was happening again! But I was determined to get hold of her number. She might choose me as a better candidate. There is always hope, the glass is always half full!


“He proposed to you? But you know? ... June had already proposed to him.” Manjushree said.
“What? “ Anushka lowered her tone.
“Yes! June herself told me to keep it a secret. Please do not tell anyone.”
“No! No! I wouldn’t.” How many more secrets are to be plundered, I wondered, that too in seven stops!




The fourth stoppage came ….




I was almost near end of my journey. So I thought this would be the ideal time to ask her for her mobile number. Again I thought that asking her just where she lived or where her college was might be a better idea. I was planning to start the conversation but just then she turned to her friend and asked.
“You proposed to Rahul?”
“What!! Who told that to you? “ June was genuinely surprised!
“Manjushree. Did you propose or not ?” Anushka was desperate.
“No! I mean…. Yes! ... Actually Rahul proposed to me.”
“Oh!! Rahul had also proposed to me today!”
“What? “ She almost shouted in shock. “Are you joking? When? Where? “
“In our college garden. He held me against the wall and asked for a kiss.”
“Wha.. What did you say ?” She was visibly flustered!
“I rejected. Then he proposed to me again, and I said… “
“You said what?? “ She shouted again. All the passengers of the bus were looking at these two girls.
“I said “You are not my type””.


Everything was silent for some moments. I was happier than before. But was not sure of what her type actually was.
“What is your type Anushka?” I was startled as June asked Anushka the question I was thinking right now! As if she had seen through my minds startled me from my dreamy state of contemplations!
“My type? I love intellectuals. I love writers, artists, poets. I dream of having a lover who would write sweet stories on me and I would kiss him after reading that.” Anushka said.
My chances had increased.
“I can write whatever you want. I can make you the queen of my fairy-tales. I can make you Alice in my wonderland. I can make you the Tomb Raider, who would finish off a thousand bad-guys to secure the world. I can erase this world and draw it again like you want. Just ask me to do it, Anushka! “ I said silently to myself... as if rehearsing before actually saying it.


“Anu!” June said. “I think I should talk to Rahul.”
“Now?” Anushka exclaimed.
“Yes. I’ll go home later. First I have to meet him.”
“So where are you going now?”
“I’ll go to Rahul’s home now. Please don’t tell this to anyone. I’ll be a little late reaching home. If mom calls you, just say that I’m not with you. Ok?”
“Ok!”




The fifth stoppage came….




June had alighted from the bus. Now it was only Anushka and me. I thought this was the ideal time to ask her for a date! Yet I could not make up my mind! They say you have to have some spine if you are dealing in things like this, you have to speak up! Unless you do, how will the lady know that you are interested at all! The smiling you might as well be a ‘just another’ polite good-guy, in the city of inherently sprawling bad-guys! I think that’s what ladies think! Don’t know if men really give them the creeps!


Anushka was busy with her phone again. This time she dialed a number.
“Hello?” A female voice was there.
“Hello Aunty! I am Anushka”
“Hi Anu! What happened? “
“Nothing aunty. I called you just to inform some things about June... which I feel aren’t quite right!”
“June? What happened to her? “ The lady said with a tensed voice.
“Actually aunty, I don’t think if she is doing it right.” I was staring at her. How a beautiful lady could be so dangerous! Moreover this lady really had the sting! She will be what the colloquial terminology believes to be a ‘terminal bitch’ ... the rude words be pardoned, they only come in good terms here!
“What did she do?” June’s mom said in a increasingly impatient voice.
“Please Aunty. Don’t misunderstand me. I just wanted to warn you. She is keeping bad company now-a-days. She is now at Rahul’s home. I thought it was my duty to look out for my dear friend! Please aunty, don’t tell her that I told you these things.”

I kept staring at her... Really ? I read about evil queens in fantasy stories but never believed their existence. 



The sixth stoppage came…...




I was thinking how I should start talking. I was dubious as well as tongue tied now... yet with all that had transpired she seemed more attractive! The perfect blend of prettiness, politeness, unpredictability and ‘a cute evilness’ ... a real woman! I was secretly longing for her all the more!
Her mobile rang again.
“Hello!”
“Where you are?”
“In the bus, mom! Returning.”
“Is June with you?”
“No mom! She went elsewhere.”
“You are there all by yourself?” Her mom’s voice was a little worried.
“Yeah mom !“ She paused for a moment. ”and a little afraid too.”
“Why? What happened?” the lady shouted.
“Somebody’s constantly watching me mom!” Anushka told in a nearly inaudible voice.
“Who? Where is he? Is he following you?”
“He is just beside me."


I jumped out of my seat and got off from the running bus. It was a little walk to my seventh stoppage.


My heart was still beating hard on my ribs...!


Anushka, has had her story... but she may not as well kiss me, as she promised-- after reading it!
-------------------- Edited by Bipul Islam. 14 Feb, 2011 ---------------------------

The Story called 'Thriller'

Again I have started writing... That too after thinking of never writing anything again…Truly speaking I thought I won’t be able to write anymore. But thanks to my loving wife Radhika, I made it. No word is enough to express my gratitude to her. But first I need to tell you who I am.

I am a part time writer in the daily newspaper, “New Day”. If you are a keen reader of newspaper stories, you must have seen my name. It’s not that I have already impressed you by my stories. Probably you too have laughed at one of my stories some days back, and like the editor of the newspaper you too have already named me a “A Backdated Writer”. Actually I write romantic stories; especially those where the groom kisses the bride or a lover meets her beloved at the end of the scene. I like writing these stories as I feel very safe while reading them. I love to think of the world as a place of love.

So recently I finished writing a story on Salil and Sunanda, who were the only child of their respective parents, and fell in love with each other. Since their parents were against their marriage they left home and spent two nights in the Jungle. But soon they realised that it was impossible for them to live on their own so they returned home, but there was nobody who would accept them. But since they had spent two nights together, everyone in their village took them as Husband and Wife. So they lived happily ever after. I was very happy after finishing the story. But soon my happiness was gone as I entered the Editor’s room.

“You call this a story?? “, he was furious.

“Why? Don’t you like it?” I sounded sceptical.

“What kind of a story writer you are? You call this romantic?”

“Is it not enough? But it already has two kisses.”

“Look mister.” He paused a bit. “You should really read some modern stories.”

“Modern stories ?!!” I shouted “You call them stories??” This time I was furious.

“Look man! Your story really has nothing to do with romance. I think…” He hesitated. ”I think you need to change your writing style...”

“Writing style?” I was puzzled.

“Actually don’t mind sir. Your romantic stories are not actually… selling! So you should try something else.”

“Something else?” I was puzzled even more.” Actually I don’t know anything else worth writing about.”

“No! No! I am not telling that.” He sounded a little kind. ”Why don’t you write something else… like a thriller… ”

“Thriller?”

“Yes! Thriller! Actually thriller types are selling like hot cakes. You should try one sir! Look sir .. You are a very talented writer but these days………. “. He continued but I was not listening. My mind was already searching for a thriller. 

What is a thriller? Something that makes you have goose bumps. My life is very simple. There are no bumps in it. So it is very hard for me to write a thriller. Famous writers always have a story or two based on their lives; they furnish it by some punch-lines and one-liners and what they get is a best-selling novel. But in my case it was not so easy. I am that kind of a person who actually overlooks incidents. If I am walking on a road and there is a man beating another man in front of me, I don’t want to join the fight or protect the victim. I always increase my speed. So thrillers, incidents, accidents, stories avoid me.

But I found one at last … ….

                                     

After dinner I lit a cigarette and sat down on the sofa. I was in deep thought when my wife joined me with a glass of wine in her hand.

“Are you tensed?” My wife asked as I was totally silent at the dinner table.

“No. Not that. I was thinking… “

“What’s the matter?” She took my hand in her own.

“Actually Rai” (I call her Rai affectionately; her name is Radhika as I had previously said.) “I need a thriller.”

“A thriller?”

“Yes. A thriller. These romantic stories are not selling right now.” I sounded quite similar to the editor.

Radhika looked puzzled. “So your story was rejected..”

“Sad but… yes.”

There was a long pause between us. I was searching for a thriller and she was looking at me. She was the first one to break the ice.

“You want a thriller?”

“Yes… Desperately.”

“What if I tell you one…?” She put down her wine glass on the table in front of her.

“You? Thriller ? Sure!!“  I was ecstatic.

“I am not a story-teller. I can only give you a plot.”

So she started the story and I leaned on her lap. It is always a pleasure to hear a story from a lady.

“Yamini’s husband was a serviceman. They were not a happy couple. But nobody saw them arguing over anything ever. So people assumed them to be a happy couple.” She paused and sipped at her wine. I pulled at her glass, put it on the table and said, “First, Tell me the story.”

“O.K.!” She smiled and continued. “Yamini was never happy with her life. She wanted it to be more fruitful. She was tired of her daily routine of cooking, arranging food and waiting for her husband to come home. She wanted to have a child but her husband thought otherwise. In one words, she was disgusted with her own life. But she never thought of committing suicide as Arup was present in her life.”

“Arup, a charming young man in his 30s, was a friend of Yamini’s husband. Whenever her husband was not at home, Arup came. He was like a breath of fresh air in her life. They loved each other. Arup presented her with a golden locket with ‘A’ carved on it whereas Yamini presented him with a gold pendant with ‘Y’ carved on it. “

“Nobody suspected anything and this continued for a year or two. Suddenly Yamini got pregnant. She became very afraid because her husband could kill them both if he knew of this incident. She told Arup that she was pregnant. Arup told her to abort the child but Yamini was not ready to do so. So they decided to kill Yamini’s husband in such a way so that nobody ever suspects anything.”

“One night Yamini and her husband were sitting on the sofa. Two wine glasses were in front of them. She sat on her lap and kissed him deeply. Her husband held her tightly and was about to kiss her when she said, “Let’s finish the drink first.” Her husband was busy finishing his drink when she broke her own glass and slit his throat with the broken glass from behind.”

“Police discovered the body after seven days when neighbours complained of foul smell. The body was totally disintegrated and a post mortem was unable to find the exact time of murder. Police also found that the victim’s wife Yamini had been sleeping with her boyfriend for the last seven days. They suspected her but she had a strong alibi that they couldn’t break.” She finished and took her wine glass into her hand.

“Is it really a thriller?” I was not sure.

“Yes. When you are reading a story but cannot figure out what will happen at the end that is called a thriller.”

“But I figured out. Actually it was easy to figure out.” I sounded confident.

“Oh. Is it? “She smiled. “Then you must be very intelligent.” She came to me, sat on my lap and kissed me deeply.

“But you must finish your drink first.” I pushed her aside and laughed. She was laughing too. Then I stood up, placed my hands in my pockets and said,

“I have something for you.”

She was looking at my hand while drinking the last drop of wine.

I pulled out a gold chain from my pocket with “R” carved on it. I held it before her eyes. She was looking at it. She was looking at the blood dripping from it.

“I have killed Ranjan.” I said in a cold voice. “It’s not his. It’s yours. ‘R’ as it is in Radhika. The other one, the ‘R’ of Ranjan, you are wearing at present.” I smiled. She was still holding her empty glass. I took it and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Have a good sleep.”

I looked at the glass, it was totally empty. She had finished all the wine that had cyanide mixed with it.

I had got my own version of a ‘Thriller’.