Kb Thakur



Kb Thakur




8 mins

It was well past midnight. He had woken up just a few seconds ago and suddenly realized why, the realization sent a big chill through his spine, it was the corpse that woke him up by banging on the door of the closet from the inside. It was all coming back to him now like a cloud of suffocating smoke, the corpse that he had confined in the closet, was trying to break free, he threw the blanket away as he got on his feet, then he started to walk towards the closet, the banging started to slow down as if the corpse had sensed that its release was at hands. He opened the closet in a violent motion and found it just where he left it. The corpse with all its unbearable ugliness stood there, gazing at him with its bloodshot eyes. It had a mocking smile on its rotten face like it was taunting him for not being able to stay away from him, like it knew from the moment it was locked in, that he was gonna open that closet and set it free sooner or later.

The rotten stench that was coming from its breath made him feel like slamming the door on its face, but he couldn't make himself do it. As he stood there looking at its defiled flash, he wondered how much it had changed over the years. In the past, it did not have any fangs or claws, nor did it reek so insufferably, for a moment he was transported in his past when he saw the corpse for the first time, it was pale and weak it looked like a lurking shadow, so frail that it was inconceivable that it could harm anyone, yet even in its infancy it had the same cunningness in its eyes as it has now, when it is standing tall in front of him way stronger than himself. He suddenly remembered the look on his father's face when he carried the corpse home for the first time; thinking about his father sent such a strong pang of agony in his heart that it made his face contort. The look his father gave him that night was the same look he had given him when as a child he had struck their house maid’s son in the face for defeating him in a race. It was the same look his father had given him when he found out that his son had gambled with his college fees. The difference this time was that he was no longer a kid, and unlike the past, his father couldn't grab him by the ears and make him atone for his sins. He was a grown up now and if he wanted to bring a corpse in his house, all his father could do was to give him a look that says “I do not approve’ but he didn't need his approval, after all, he wasn't dependent on him. His parents didn't live with him anymore, he remembered it was the corpse that revealed his parents' discrimination and injustice to him. It showed him how his parents lavished their care and support on his younger brother that led to his getting better education, and settling abroad with all the riches, while he was left behind.

The corpse told him that when his father said I am proud of you, or his mother seemed to care more about him than about his brother, it was nothing but their residual guilt that made them do it. His father was the first one even before his wife to confront him about the existence of the corpse in the home. “there is no corpse” he remember replying to him in coarse tone, then after a while his father confronted him again, and this time the existence of corpse was so conspicuous that it could not be denied, “I am my own master no one controls me” he shouted, as his father had the audacity to suggest that corpse is at the helm steering the home. And then finally the day came when all his resentment that was seething under the surface burst out in the open, this was the day he saw his parents for the last time, it was the day when his father grabbing the corpse by its collar threw it out of the house, and it made him fly into a rage “how dare you” he shouted. “I am doing this for your own good” his father replied.


“I know what's good for me I am not a child”

“You are to me”

“Get out of my house”




His father stood there dumbfounded unable to move, unable to breathe, as if his mind was refusing to believe what it heard, and was trying to find some different meaning that he could ascribe to the words. But there was no escape, no solace to be found words when spoken in such a manner have but one meaning.


His father finally moved after standing there for a long time, the changes that unfolded in him just in the matter of moments were surreal. He seemed to have aged twenty years, he appeared old much older than he actually was, his shoulders fell down he kept staring at the floor and did not lift his eyes. He walked around gathering his stuff bare essentials his glasses, his shoes his wallet. His hands kept shaking as he tried to tie his shoeless. Finally, he grabbed his wife’s hand, who almost went blank as if she had no idea of where she was or what was happening. They had very little money in a bank and a meager pension to fall back on, yet they left without a moment’s delay. Standing at the door his father raised his head to look at him one last time. He was ready to see the rage in his eyes, a look that condemns him to burn in hell forever, but there was no trace of any of it. What he saw instead startled him; there was an apology in his eyes, as if he was asking his forgiveness, for not being able to teach him how to discern right from wrong. He wanted to stop him to cry on his knees and beg forgiveness but the moment passed.          


In the subsequent days of their departure, he thought that, the corpse didn't like his father, as he was the only one who spoke against it, the realization made him doubtful and he started paying more attention to its activities, which were so heinous that it didn't take him long to realize that the corps was not his friend, but a parasite that feeds on his weakness. To his dismay he found out, that corps has grown way stronger than he is, and it was, just as his father had said, the real master of the house. He tried throwing it out of the house several times but the corps just laughed, as he couldn’t even move it an inch. The corps kept increasing its ominous influence.

Then came the worst night of his life the one he wants to forget, but keeps remembering as a method of revenge upon himself, that night he had a quarrel with his wife and shouted so badly on her that she started shaking with fear and ended up locking herself in the bedroom. He realized his mistake and apologized. Seeing that he has calm down she opened the door. He took her in his arms and started kissing her, she pushed him away “no” she said loudly, he backed off, but the corpse walked in and grabbed her by the waist. She tried stopping it, but the corpse threw her in the corner it was too strong to be contained now, and he was powerless in front of it. He tried shouting at it, but what came out of his throat sounded more like whines, the corpse held his wife more tightly, she looked at him for help, but he had no power over it. He kept whining from a corner, the corps threw his wife in bed she kept struggling but it overpowered her, she kept crying but it didn't stop. He could hear her sobbing for the rest of the night, and the next morning she left never to return.


He took the corpse out of the closet, opened his bedroom window, and then he threw it out of his life once and for all. It fell down right under the streetlight, then broke into pieces spilling its intoxicating blood all over the street he saw it clearly; the blood was thick and orange.


He soon realized that he just imagined throwing it away, the window was open but the corpse was still in his hand. But unlike in the past, when he couldn’t get rid of it, as it had power over him, any power it had over him vanished as soon as he saw what it truly was, and he could have thrown it away with such velocity that would have carried it across the edge of the sky, but he didn't do it not because he couldn't, but because after all, he has done, that abominable corpse was all he deserved, and instead of throwing it away he kissed its sour lips….

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