Vatsal Parekh (Victory Watson)

Thriller

4  

Vatsal Parekh (Victory Watson)

Thriller

Delusion

Delusion

7 mins
299


“Even a thousand lanterns cannot show the way out, once trapped in a maze.”


Dark-skinned but sharp-featured Phulwa looked enticing in the white bamboo silk blouse that covered her ample bosom, and a delicate hand weaved short skirt of red sheep wool, covered with orange marigold flowers all over her body. The aroma of the Jasmine flowers in her long black tresses enhanced her mystic persona. Her dark skin shone like a black marble stone on the whole moon night. The heavy silver anklets and the iron bangles made a tinkling sound as she moved her hands and legs nervously sitting on a rock with her feet dipped in the cold river water. The breeze was out, and she shivered as the air brushed past her bare skin. She felt the goosebumps on her arms as she rubbed them over each other. Hundreds of butterflies fluttered in her tummy, half nervous, half joyful. Tired of waiting, she stood up and leaned against the tree trunk.


“Why isn't he here yet?” she wondered, wiping the cold sweat off her forehead. 


Mangu lay near the banks of the river, peacefully, oblivious to her anxiety but alert at the same time. Lying on his sides, he kept an eye on her and observed her every move from his position. 


From a faraway hut, Phulwa could hear a wailing baby. The shatines looked like twinkling stars from a distance, with gasoline lanterns flickering over them on the river's eastern bank. After a short silence, the wailing got intense, and it died again. It peaked and then went silent. Phulwa’s chest swelled. 


“You are very beautiful, Phulwa. Do you want to meet me?” he asked, almost touching her back, whispering into her ears that afternoon. She was startled by his words, but his proximity and the warm breath shook like a dry autumn leaf. She looked at him shyly from the corner of her eyes. “He hasn't changed a bit. The same artistic body, the dark hair, chiseled nose, and big frame.`` She carefully noted his personality in her mind. 


After that afternoon, Phulwa made regular trips to the western banks with Mangu. She would lay there dreamily on the rocks, soaking every word he spoke. Her body trembled with joy as he embraced her and touched her intimately. “Will you marry me and take me away?” she asked. “Yes, my love, I will,” he replied


“Why don’t you feed the baby?” She ignored the question and kept weaving the Jasmine garland for the night.


“Don't touch me, you wretched man. Go and sleep outside,” she yelled as he approached her to cuddle.


He picked up the crying baby, opened the hut’s wooden door, and laid a mat on the dry, muddy front yard, placing the baby carefully on it before sleeping beside it. He held and soothed the baby in his warm embrace for a long time until it fell asleep peacefully in his arms. He covered the baby with the soft quilt and rested his hands behind his head, thinking about her outbursts and reactions. Somewhere, on the western banks, she sat on the rocks waiting.


“How long should we secretly meet each other? Why don’t we tell everyone about us and get married? I am sure Amma and Abba will understand. I don’t like to meet you this way anymore.” she spoke to his back. Nonchalantly, he picked his robes and walked away into the darkness as always, without looking back.


“The baby is growing faster,” she thought. “It has reached my knees when it tries to stand up holding my skirt.” She was worried.


“He doesn't meet me every night as before.” sadly discovering the gaps in their constant meetings and receding intensity. While she waited endlessly, once in a few full moon nights, he sends a message through the village boy, asking her to come on the western banks. It bothered her when he got up to leave immediately after mating rituals and never stayed back. 


“You know, I haven't seen your face ever in the daylight,” she once told him playfully, hinting at the obvious desire to meet him in broad daylight in front of her tribe. He smiled but remained silent.


“Haven't you sent the meals for him in the fields?” Amma asked when Phulwa was feeding Mangu. Mangu, too, was growing faster and now could chew the meat.


“I have to stop going to the western bank. I will not go today,” she promised herself. 


Early next morning, he saw her entering the gates stealthily, drenched in river water. He closed his eyes and drew the baby closer to his chest to sleep.


“Why isn't he approaching me? Why am I drawn to him? I will not go to the western banks again, ever.`` She wiped her bosom, placed the baby in the cradle, and rocked it. The baby was sleeping with its lips covered with its mother’s sweet nectar.


“I am never coming to the banks again.” She said firmly to him one night. “I have told you multiple times. I don’t want to meet you secretly anymore. Either you marry me or leave me alone.” she gave him a stern look as she spoke.” Shh! Come here.” he coaxed her, pulling her closer, placing his lips over hers.


“I don't want to go to the bank. I want to be with my baby.” The village boy arrived with the message.


She sat with the baby in her arms as it playfully caught her finger to suck it. “I will never leave you again and go to the banks,” she whispered. “Didi,” the village boy called her from the backyard.


“Please leave me alone.” tearily she prayed. “Am I hurting you? Am I forcing you to come?” He asked, holding her firmly in his hands. She shook her head negatively. 


She looked at the cobweb on the walls, lying on the mat in the veranda. The spider had woven an intrinsic web artistically and was now devouring a trapped fly in it. “The fly was not forced to enter the cobweb, and it came on its own. And now, it can't leave.” she thought. “The fly is now attached to the cobweb; it's stuck to it. Its story will end with its death. How am I going to end this?” she sighed helplessly.


Mangu was still at the bank waiting. 


She paced up and down the muddy bank and was elated to see his figure approaching her. He looked mesmerizingly handsome in his tall frame. She rushed to him and embraced him passionately. He responded to her embrace and started disrobing her within seconds. “Please, can we just talk tonight?” she asked. But, he ignored her and pulled her towards the trees. “Please, let’s talk. I don’t want to end it this way. Please.” she pleaded. But, he refused to stop and forcefully pinned her down on the rock. “I waited for your love, I waited for your acceptance, I waited for your acknowledgement. I waited to see you in the daylight, and I waited to become your bride. I waited and waited.” she found herself muttering to herself with tears flowing down her cheeks while he was on top of her, madly taking in every inch of her body.


“ I waited for everything. The waiting was painful, and I wanted to stop. I wanted to be with my baby. But, I couldn't cut the cobweb, entangling myself in the deadly trap. I got attached, I got stuck, you are approaching me, devouring me. But, will I die like the fly? Will I surrender to the web? Will I be powerless and let you suck my life out of me?” 


“No,” “I won’t.” 


“M AAA N GUUU” she called at the top of her voice


“G E T HIM”


Hearing these words, Mangu leaped in the air on all his fours and strode towards the rocks. He landed heavily on his back, crushing his spine. He strangled his neck with his jaws and ripped off his chest with his sharp claws. Blood splattered all over Phulwa’s body. She moved away from them as she watched Mangu, her pet leopard, take him away into the dark shadows of the river to finish his meal.


She stood there for a long time, hearing Mangu’s growls in between his chewing, 


“I am never coming to the banks again.”


She finally had cut the cobweb and was free to fly.



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