Love, an Anticlimax

““Yes mom! I have washed the floor.” 

Stumbling, tottering I start to walk. Again, fell into the blood pool. But merely, had I cleaned it all, 5 minutes back. Affirmative! To drag a dead body has never been easy. Looking back, no stains but scraped scratches, I still find myself draped into the pure dried crimson love, now brutal.* 

With sun rays, then reaching my vision, irritating me to wake up to reality, dreaming back and forth, I get up to pay my daily visit to him. Not just I had call them my visits, but my sense of surety that he’s waiting there for me. He does. He now waits for me every day, at the same place, every second of a minute, every minute of a day, 

he does. 

Maybe, love over the time has grown to such hunger, that he doesn’t even say a word, just listens to me! He hears me talk about my loneliness, which once he was a cause for and that being together now, doesn’t help too. I talk about how the world considers me ill, and never approves of my love, for him nor his, for me. I tell him, how they fail to see the affection he has in his mahogany eyes, which do not even blink once I am into sight. I remember how once they did, when he saw me spearing the blade in and out of him. After that, he never got a chance to, so how do I tell the people about it? His scents now do not cost him anything, over the years. I have adapted myself to his natural essence. Though, once I had a rat entered into his room, and I found it dead too. Maybe, the familiarity to the after effects of his life, the rotten junk took upon it’s own present. People say, romance can be found in between those silences when two hands hold each other, even through the darkest times. Strange, I think what makes them blind to the fact, that even if he doesn’t respire now, he never leaves my hand until I do? He 

grips it as tight as I do, never complains if I hit hard, someday. To prove our love, how do I tell them the darkest of all stories where I haven’t let any single ray of heat, human existence or hope reach out to him? 

On the other hand, why would he ever need anyone else too? I have been taking care of him over the year and a half, in a way, no one else could ever do. From noticing the initial purple-red coloration marking the settling of the blood under the force of gravity to observing the inch by inch, green discoloration of the body; gas production with associated bloating; skin slippage; and a foul odour, I have seen him growing. Though, I am not sure if I am proud of it, but to have him seeing change so much without him being able to object and question his existence, for me, I think he has loved me enough now to just accept himself. Somedays, it becomes difficult. I don’t understand why he doesn’t have any control over his movements? I put all my courage on some days, probably once, every month, to manage him get out of the coffin, to let him have his weekend delight, to whirl and twirl to the beats of Ville Valo. But I think, he finds it difficult to hold his arms around me, and move, while I on the other side just try to help him stand. Irritated once, I even pushed him away! Yet, what the world fails to see is how he just doesn’t speak anything and only listens to me! To prove my dominance, he didn’t even get up himself and I, at the end, had 

to get hold of him, and put him back to his place. But he’s a darling. 

Many a times, I hear voices shouting from outside, they call me a mad woman. And once, even some people came dressed in clothes of khadi. Also, they had guns tucked near their waists. He had never been a criminal, but he broke me apart. He made me feel all those insecurities and brought back the fear of being alone. The fear which once my father kept before me, while succumbing maa to her last. However, how could I let anybody else punish him when he’s been proving his apologies since the last time he could breathe? So, he did commit some sin, but he was repenting. He was more of my wrong than my right and hence, has been enjoying his blessed 

afterlife. Yes, I didn’t let the cops enter, and burnt them alive. Sure, I had to keep my promise of protecting him, away from everybody, the world.” 

Subconscious, I end up confessing everything to maa, later realising as the actual sun beam hit me now through the metal rods, I was behind the bars. A recorder placed in front of me, now helped the monolithic take control over me, which once I had taken charge of.