Any questions

Why
Should the wild madness
Leak into the everyday blasé?
Why
Won't you still be the mirror
I held to echo all that was me?

the tree I loved

I loved this beautiful tree
and often held it in my hands through my balcony
clicked pictures with it in the background
plenty of selfies and everyone acknowledged the greenery that surrounded me 

it's alive still but threadbare now

Its branches are sawed off by neighbours who thought it got in the way

of their beautiful garden to be

which never happened 

for they are a family of three

with grandiose visions with no actuality 

they hardly step out of the house

don't even take their dog out for a walk

their garden which I wish I had 

is strewn with dead leaves and rubbish from everywhere

and there is a large workbench that was a part of their vision once 

to make on it a fence for their garden 

a large box with rusting tools that stays open and collects water, eats dust and dies in the wind 

sits on the bench just as unhappy as the ropes and twines that are now frayed

it could have been more, if they'd let it be

the years have piled up and it looks deceased

it's a cemetery of dead branches still lying from that beautiful tree 

Jubilee

My garnet tinted Thursday

temptingly it ignites into bright red, dose of melting cherries through the cracks 

of a wheedling workday

amongst its non existent contours akin a field flat and fallow

waiting to get lit before it can become fertile

an inert glinting scarlet, dosed with spots of blackening hopes

doused ember with inert desires 

crushed earths of yearly wisdoms caked in slimy carmine

amidst an annual chronology of listed happiness little egrets of time flown by

just before the weekend a momentary lapse in judgement

to begin quantifying 

a day before weekly jubilation a blooming notion in a little bubble 

that hovers above my head holding me accountable 

for all that couldn't be, the dancing flames of bejeweled promises 

turning to stone in daily corners 

Virus away

The simplicity and extravagance of those times
when I could just look outside
with a sneer and say how dull the world looked
so unfit for a day out
those wasted days
I spent inside
hoping I didn't have to leave the house
opting to live inside a cage
that wasn't locked still
a living option that hardly meant a thing
a treasure unloved
which I now tear over
after days of being worn out indoors
in a state of indefinite quarantine

Disciple

pain has taught
a lot of things
like a great teacher
it manifests
just when pride hits hardest
the great humbler
shines out
of broken spaces
where imaginations died
its burning light
bursting out of a hole
selflessly living by your side
until heads have bowed
and lessons learnt

Lurking shadows finale

Read part 9 - here 

---

Liyah, Liyah’ Mita screamed.

She was trying to snatch the photograph from the policeman’s hand. 

‘What are you doing?’ the shorter man tried to hold her back.

‘I..I..she’s dead. Liyah is dead. he killed her.’

‘Miss, miss. Please, calm down’ The taller policeman tried calming her down but the woman they saw, as skeletal and dead as she looked now seemed possessed. ‘Look , look’ she screamed, running to her couch and pointing at the darkening handprint on the wall. ‘Look at this’ 

The policeman saw a dirty wall that had a dark spot which seemed to have been scraped with something hard. Its plaster was falling out and grey cement spots peeked through. ‘Look’ she screamed again. ‘This is Liyah’s handprint. she..’ Mita paused and looked around, the thick gust of decayed wind sat on her shoulder. ‘look, she is here’ Mita pointed towards her head.

‘Miss’ the policeman raised his voice out of concern. ‘Miss, please listen.’ he walked towards her, trying to assuage her sudden discomposure. 

‘we had come to tell you as a general piece of information regarding uh, the previous tenant seeing how we had been here to question you. We thought you should know that miss Liyah is absolutely fine. She contacted and met us last evening. Seems like she had a fight with her parents and wanted to sever all contact with them, and so she didn’t inform them about the move, leading them to file a missing person’s report.’ He waited to let this bit sink in. 

Mita looked puzzled. ‘But, Anek?’ 

‘If your.. er, boyfriend is harassing you we can help.’ the taller of the two men stepped forward and helped her sit on the couch. 

‘we can file a complaint. You can come with us to the police station.’ he continued.

A small meow made itself audible. Pink had entered Mita’s house seeing the door open. He walked around, ignoring the two strange men and gently rubbed his shoulder on Mita’s leg.

She was screaming. ‘he..he saw her. He talks to Liyah. he’s on it.’ Mita had curled into a ball.

‘is this your cat?’ the shorter policeman asked pocketing the photograph.

‘No..it’s Anek’s’ Mita’s reply came muffled.

She saw a tall man picking up the cat. He must be really brave to just scoop the demonic animal in his arms. 

How long had it been?

Mita didn’t know. 

There was silence. No one was in the house. The rains smattered their hearts against her weeping window and Mita slept.

Anek was staring at the small passport-sized picture of a very sickly looking woman. 

He adjusted his spectacles and found a thin wave of recollection with a faint dank odour sweeping him.

‘I wouldn’t say I know her. I just occasionally greet her in the mornings. She often stands by the kitchen window which opens to the staircase and it doesn’t seem decent to just ignore someone, especially a neighbour.’ Anek concluded thoughtfully.

The policemen didn’t look convinced. They hmmed and nodded without any reassurances. 

‘why?’ Anek asked worriedly. ‘Is she alright? is this about her?’

‘what about your cat?’

‘what about my cat?’ Anek was confused.

‘Does your cat often visit that woman’s house?’

‘Pink?’ Anek asked, not looking too surprised. ‘Pink is friends with almost everyone around. He is such a spoilt little thing and very friendly. He visits everyone’s house hoping for treats. I didn’t know she was among his friends as well’ Anek mused.

‘So you don’t know the woman who lives downstairs?’ The taller man asked.

‘I don’t know her as such. Like I said, we just greet each other formally.’ Anek sounded annoyed.

The shorter policeman suddenly conjured a crumbled old picture that was impossibly stained and faded. 

‘how about now?’ he asked tersely.

Anek peered into the photograph. ‘This is Liyah’ he said confused.

‘You know her?’ 

‘yes, we used to be good friends. well, when this picture was taken we were high school sweethearts but things changed and we were relegated to being friendly acquaintances.' 

‘Did you know she lived in the same house which is now occupied by this woman?’ The taller man asked pointing at Mita’s passport photo.

‘I did, but Liyah had moved out by the time I moved here. I don’t understand what’s the problem?’ Anek appeared clueless.

‘When exactly did you move here?’

‘Just last month. why?’ Anek stressed his question looking absolutely bewildered.

‘Can you please look at this picture again.’ The policeman near thrust the ink-stained photo in Anek’s face ‘Please try to focus on the person standing on the extreme right of this photo.’ 

Anek stared at the face of a girl with short hair, wearing an oversized school sweater, almost trying to hide her face behind the other two stained faces that were in the photograph besides Liyah and himself.

He pursed his lips at the sad memory of this person. ‘yes I know her. Poor thing. Her mother was our English teacher who had died of a sudden illness. This girl’ Anek shook his head, trying to remember her name ‘she stopped coming to school and last I heard she was admitted in a home for the mentally ill.’ Anek looked at the photo. ‘Her name. Well..we never spoke much. I don’t remember her name.’

He suddenly looked up at the policemen with a startling realization.

‘is she? I mean, is that, is that her? the woman from downstairs?’

‘Her name is Mita’ the taller policeman replied pocketing the photograph. ‘she moved in about the same time as you in the same apartment as Liyah’ he replied with a long drawn exhale.

Pink was scratching on the doormat. He wanted to be let in. 

Lurking shadows- 9

Read part 8 - here

--

If she had appeared gaunt the last time then today Mita looked almost skeletal. 

The two policemen stared at the ghostly caricature of the woman they had met only a couple weeks ago and it seemed like her health has steadily deteriorated in that time.

The front of her shirt was caked in thick dirt. Almost like she had been dragged through the filth. The bruise on her neck that was a plum coloured thing was now a faded yellow as the taller policeman noted. The injury on her finger had still not healed and looked to have gotten worse if the filthy bandages had to be believed and the stench pouring out of the house near made the shorter policeman gag.

Awkwardly the two men took a step back.

The rot that filled the house mingled with decaying humidity, steadfastly clinging to the woman, almost entrenched within her existence and she seemed to have made her peace with the debilitating state of her ruin.

Mita’s bony arms held the door open and she stared at the two men whom she’d seen before. Where did she see them? 

She wanted to remember. Did they live with her some time ago, maybe she saw them in the long corridors of the old building she had once frequented while holding Anek’s hand.

‘Yes?’ Mita smiled and it was a painful little gesture.

‘Uh...We were here earlier.’ the shorter of the two men seemed to look unsure about something. Mita tried to understand why he looked to be pulling himself back.

He now waved a piece of paper in front of her face. It looked like an identity card. 

‘Ah, it’s the police’ Mita beamed.

‘Are you alright miss?’ the soft-spoken taller man was looking straight at her, the way sometimes Anek would when he said 'good morning' to her each morning.

The woman looked like she was having a seizure. Her face was frozen with shock but a moment later it relaxed. 

‘You’re here to arrest him?’ Mita asked morosely. Her mood suddenly changed.

‘Excuse me’ the taller man looked at her surprised.

‘yes, I know’ she sighed. ‘he has done it. He killed her.’ she said slowly shifting her weight and pointing inside her house. ‘Liyah is here. She is dead of course, but mother thinks she is haunting me. I think so too. Anek is trying to kill me as well. And..’ she suddenly paused and motioned for the two men to wait.

Mita ran back inside the house.

The two policemen now at an absolute loss for words looked at each other.

‘What do we do?’ the taller one asked. 

‘Let's go inside and check.’ his partner replied and the two men stepped inside the house, taking care to not lock the door behind because the malodor infesting the house needed to escape.

They couldn’t believe the living quarters they had stepped into.

The floor was sticky with mud and wet. A steady stream of water poured through the rotten woodwork on the window panels. 

An entire wall was moulded and looked to be a festering wound within the house. Someone had been throwing water all over the couch and walls of the house, in all likelihood it was the woman who’d been doing it. An empty bucket lay on its side.

Glass shards and broken pieces of china lay scattered on the floor along with torn pieces of dirty cloth that had holes in some places and looked to have been intentionally ripped apart.

Each spot in the house had a stench of its own.

The walls gave off a dank mouldy fume but it was the kitchen which added to the grave like redolence. 

The sink was stacked with broken bowls, plates and empty wrappers along with decomposing food that was steadily getting wet under the thin stream of a running faucet.

The shorter policeman trying to breathe through his mouth turned it off and stared at the floor which in some places appeared to have thin streaks of dried blood. 

The woman of this house had been barefoot and there was glass all around. What was going on? what was she talking about?

His reverie was broken by his partner who was pointing at the floor. There were long drag marks through the dust and perhaps that explained why the woman's shirt front was so dirty. Was she crawling on the floor?

‘wasn’t she wearing the same clothes when we met her last?’ the policeman asked to a shrug from his taller friend trying to look nonchalant as they both noted Mita approaching with a crumpled photograph in her hand.

‘Here’ she said handing it out to the shorter man.

‘This is Liyah in this picture, the one on the right with my boyfriend Anek. They used to be together and now she has disappeared. He has been trying to kill me too, you know. He wants me dead.’ she extended her bandaged finger in front of the policemen. ‘Look what he did. And he chokes me every night’ Mita’s voice trembled with anger and agony as she demonstrated how. She held her neck with both her hands and squeezed hard until her eyeballs nearly popped out. 

Someone was screaming for her to stop and pulling her away. The beautiful white place had clean bedsheets, Mita remembered. Mother always told her to stay there, but she loved walking along the long corridors.

The two policemen were trying to pry her fingers open and suddenly she began coughing. Mita was rasping, her breath came out in spurts and she knew Anek was at it again.

The yellowing bruises were darkening again. 

The two men looked confused. Mita didn’t know what they were doing in her house.

They were holding a photograph.

--

cont..