BLINK

Hari was crossing the zebra in the busy Sunset Boulevard when a man in a hurry collided with him in the middle of the highway. He fell. Horns of approaching vehicles were blaring so loudly as if threatening to mow him down. The headlights under the new-moon night shone upon the bloodstains that were imprinted on his white shirt. His eyes followed the man who collided; he was carrying a gun and was bleeding profusely. Hari got up and called him, “Hey”. He turned around to point the gun at Hari. Both stood in the middle of the zebra, facing each other.

The weeping eyes as if he lost someone dear, the blood-soaked clothes like he woke up from a night of sleep in blood paradise. Hari’s knees trembled as he saw it approaching—The Death. Before he could even attempt to escape from its jaws, the shot was heard. And, thud. An aggravated sense of fear floated in the atmosphere. Not for long though, as a bus mowed down that man; he rested down forever and peace prevailed. The strangers, who met a minute ago, lay down on the zebra. A crowd gathered around—they were curious but naïve to think the dead would tell them what had happened when their sight narrated it all.

Aniruddh drew his hands away from the laptop, putting hands behind his head while leaning back in his chair. He sipped the bitter coffee that turned cold, and he grimaced: the eyelids dipped in as if glue stuck them. Off he went out of his study, with the mug in the right hand. Not wanting to pour it down the basin, he gulped it down in entirety—this time the tongue stretched out and he did his best not to puke out. Tired, he sat on his sofa and placed the empty mug on a table.

Holding a cigar, he stepped outside his compound as the rusty gate creaked behind him. He wore a gray tee and a pajama that matched the mood of the Texas sky that made its presence felt with persistent thunders. He took a puff and right then, a shadow joined his presence.

A man in his thirties, sporting a chevron, asked him for a lighter. Both smoked standing next to each other, sometimes smiling, but mostly lost in their own world of thoughts until Aniruddh thought—No one would, in their right minds, wear a hoodie on that humid day. By then, the man’s cigarette only had a butt left, but Aniruddh wasn’t even halfway there with his cigar. He was taking a puff when a smooth sailing breeze brought along tiny droplets of rain that felt freezing cold.

Aniruddh asked, “So you’re new to the locality?”

“No, I came to meet my in-laws,” said the man.

“I am Marion and you’re Ani…Ani..raaadh, right?” he continued, “I came to know about you from my in-laws. Got to know you were good friends with Tracy.”

Aniruddh frowned as if he knew someone from the past, but was still unsure. He leaned back on the gate; the latch of it wasn’t properly lowered. And it accelerated away by his weight. He was about to fall when Marion caught his hand. The rain was getting heavier. Marion was about to leave when Aniruddh said that he could stay there until the rain gets over. Both of them sat with their wet butts rubbing on the chairs were on the porch. Marion was fondly looking at the curvature and design of the handcrafted chairs.

“Where did you get ’em from?”

“I brought them from Shillong, a place in India.”

“These are made from water hyacinths,” continued Aniruddh.

Marion took out another cigarette and asked for the lighter. He sucked in the nicotine and threw out a cloud of smoke, and he closed his eyes and let out a sigh that hinted about the pangs stored deep inside his heart. Just then, he turned and Aniruddh pretended as if Marion was never there in his sight.

“You want one?” said Marion.

Aniruddh shook his head in response. Pulling in his cheek muscles, Marion was looking around: shifting his line of sight from one place to another.

“What are these called?”

“Kopou Phool. It is an exotic orchid found mostly in the north-eastern parts of India.”

“Looks like everything here is from India.”

“These types of people are destroying our native culture,” he whispered to himself.

Marion’s stare was ice cold. Aniruddh sheepishly smiled not knowing what to say, but the stare didn’t die down. To avoid facing it, he looked in his watch and then, outside. And what followed was a chuckle. The chuckle grew louder and louder as he clanked onto the floor, laughing on top of his lungs.

Pointing a shaky forefinger at Aniruddh, he said, “See…I got you there.”

Aniruddh wiped away the sweat on his forehead and flashed his teeth.

Finally, the humidity seemed to get under Marion’s skin. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He pulled his sleeves. But still, it wasn’t enough. It required more. He stood up, removed his hoodie, and placed it on the back of his chair.

“Do you go for hunt frequently?” asked Aniruddh.

“Why you asking that, man?” said Marion.

“The scars on your face seem to be from an animal, quite possibly a wild animal.”

“Ya...a bear once had pounced on me while I had been aimin’ at da deers. She ain’t last long when my barrel emptied into her bosoms.”

“That bear sucked the soul out of my married life.” He gnawed his teeth viciously, veins peeped out of his neck and his red eyes bled tears profusely.

Aniruddh came up and tried to console him.

“The rain isn’t getting slower soon. Come inside.”

Both stepped inside and sat on the sofa. He switched on the T.V. and handed the remote placed on the small table to Marion. Marion got busy with the then-current news happening across the country. Aniruddh looked into the TV passively until a yawn arrived and he dozed off.

He woke up to a foul smell. It was a fart that could have run for the Olympics gold. Marion wasn’t there. A long-faced, thick eye-browed man sat in his place, tilting one of his butts to push out the odor.

“You woke up,” said that man.

Aniruddh rubbed his eyes as if they might let him see Marion in that man.

Aniruddh asked, “Do I…know you?”

“You kidding?”

Aniruddh nodded his head slowly, pretending to had known him. The TV was blaring out some heavy metal stuff.

“You know, Ani…sitting in that cubicle day after day really sucks. I’m contemplating becoming a full-time painter.”

He went on. “Some days earlier, my boss—that old man Smith, said ‘Eddie, you are a shame to this workplace’ and ridiculed me in front of all. I hate that place and more so, that idiot. I wish he dies soon.”

“You don’t mention it to anyone before I become a full-time painter,” said Eddie.

Eddie went on with his rant as Aniruddh’s eyelids frequently sagged and he pulled them back with agony.

“You feel sleepy? Sleep then. I’ll tell you later,” told Eddie.

“No..no..you go on, I’m all ears,” Aniruddh replied.

And then the eyelids closed.

         After ten seconds, he raised his sleepy eyelids to find himself not in his house. The sleep went miles away from him. He found himself sitting on a chair in the dark hallway. He stretched his head out to look at the next room. A couple was smooching, bare-bodied, in the next room and they dropped on to the bed. Incessant giggles, creaking of the bed stands and moans followed, as a painting of a naked woman peered over. He took a deep breath and closed his eyelids in disgust and opened to find himself sitting inside a bus.

He was sitting on a window seat. The lights of the outside made its way through to hit the pupil of his eye. As the bus was, he saw the life outside—children walking in the sidewalk along with their parents, young kids performing BMX stunts in the connecting lanes, often scolded by the oldies, couples walking with their hands entwined. And then his eyes fell on a couple kissing passionately. He looked away. The bus arrived at a halt. He looked out at a sign on which the lights of a car fell. It read—SUNSET BLVD. Oh, so how did I end up on this highway, he thought. This halt might be caused by a traffic jam. This thought went for a toss when he spotted Eddie on the sidewalk, and he stood near the zebra as he looked at his phone. Aniruddh shouted Eddie’s name, but to no avail. Instead, the passengers started whispering and looking at him. The bits of looking progressed into staring and suddenly, he felt surrounded by violent eyes threatening to cease his existence. To escape, he closed his eyes.

That time, he found himself in that same dark hallway. He saw Marion and that same lady were involved in a heated argument.

“How dare you betray me?” said Marion.

“Me? How come I betrayed you when you weren’t there for me when I needed you? Even if I ignore the fact that you cannot fulfill my needs,” shouted the woman.

“Oh, so you screwed up with a random painter.”

“Wait, let me get hold of this Eddie and I’ll shoot him down.” holding a card in his hand.

“You sure you don’t have Eddie’s photo?” he asked.

“No. We met in the bar that night. That’s it.”

He picked up his gun and paced his way towards the exit. Only to be stopped by a thud greeted on his way. The woman threw a box aimed at his head but fell short.

The thud took aback Aniruddh. He stopped the advancing shriek right at the edge of his tongue. He wanted to escape but neither the closing of eyelids worked nor was he able to stand up. He bent over again and saw that Marion grabbed her neck and lifted her against the wall.

He yelled, “You wanna save that jerk, don’t you?”

She kneed him on his injured right thigh and his grip loosened. She followed it up with another and he fell, crying grievously in pain. Kicking away the gun from his hand, she pierced his left arm with a sharp kitchen knife and smashed a big wooden box of collectible books right on his head.

She snapped at him. “You get what you deserve.”

Aniruddha heard the footfalls getting louder and louder until a Tracy stood before him.

“Ani, what are you doing here?”

Not finding any answer, she repeated.

Aniruddh whispered.

“Louder,” she said.

Aniruddh’s fingers pointed behind her. And, bam! A stream of blood ran down the hole in her neck. It flowed down through her cleavage to her white dress, reddening it up. She fell. Marion stood there, carrying a gun. He had a machete in his hand. Tears of red splashed on both of them as Marion whacked open her body parts. He stepped on her skull and scrunched it with the hate he had brewed.

“You saw all of this happen?”

Aniruddh didn’t get a chance to reply, the machete thwacked into his right arm. Marion pulled it out, then pushed it in again and it cracked—falling off from his body.

“You surely can keep mum after this.”

With the arm, Aniruddh fell off and so did his conscious state.

He opened his eyes to find himself on a bus, not the same one. Bereft of his right arm, he attracted more eyes. He could see Eddie stepping on the zebra. He shouted out aloud, but the voice stayed within that bus. He turned around to see an old man, a mole in his nose, big ghastly red eyes. Suddenly, he was surrounded by many red eyes in that black interior vessel. Everything became blurry and all got dark.

Light only arrived next when he was standing between Eddie and Marion.

Eddie stuttered, “Wh….What has happened to you?”

“How did you arrive here, after I chopped off your hand two hours before?” Marion retorted.

Aniruddh responded, “Eddie, nothing happened. You run.”

“So, he is that Eddie.”

“Please don’t shoot him.”

“What is goin’ on here? Can anyone tell me?” said Eddie.

Aniruddh pushed him away. “You can get these answers later.”

Just when he turned to face Marion, the shot echoed. Thud. Blood flowed out of his mouth. Aniruddh sat there in disbelief, not able to protect him when a bright light fell on his face. A bus was flying towards him. Knowing that Eddie couldn’t be revived, he got up to run but the bus smacked him right on. And so did Marion deal with the same impact, if not more.

He rose from his sofa, still not able to feel his right hand, as his sleepy eyes looked at the arm which he couldn’t lift. He was relieved that it was still there and finding himself on his sofa. The entire arm tingled as he tried to lift it with his left hand. Slowly, it ceased. He picked up that empty mug of coffee on that small table and walked into the kitchen, refilled it, and trod down the stairs into the study. Opening the laptop to write the story, he penned the first line—Eddie was crossing the zebra in the busy Sunset Boulevard when a blood-soaked man collided with him in the middle of the highway.