This time you are being served: The dreadful Desires. Where the main-course is Lust with starters of Insane Characters. Side dishes would be drugs and Cigarettes. Especially for you we will serve drinks, complimentary. But wait for the acerbic tarts. And we’ll finish this 5-course incredible meal with talks and tea to detox.
PS: This month, a series of fragments are coming up on the greatest fear: Addiction. Stay Tuned..
First the talks happen, then the touch; Alas! this period never lasts long, ’cause then the ignorance starts.
In continuation of The Dreaded Desires: Pleasure It was one week that Myra did not hear from him, she had called Roy many times yet all she heard was the bell ringing and ringing. Roy had not picked his phone, or replied to any of her text messages. Monday had gone with the release of Roy’s much awaited launch. The song hit 2 million views and comments rushed through like the girls rushing in the mall when there is 60% sale. Myra looked at the screen and saw Roy dancing with a bunch of girls. Anger was fuming inside her as a girl with blond hair touched his chest and biceps. Thoughts of that night they spent together flashed in front of her, where he unhooked her bra and his hot breath smoothed on her breasts.
Mirror mirror on the wall, whenever I gaze into you; why do I feel so insecure? The first time I see you, I see me, the whole me and the second time I see you, why do you show me the imperfect me? I look in you, and see the bags under my eyes, the spots on my forehead and my lips so dry. The concoction of panic, anxiety overcomes, I don’t look pretty, my thoughts say in unison. My therapist tells me to not to meet you for a while, but if the desire provokes, I may have a look at you. But, trust me! I don’t want to see you again, to see the ugly me again.
It was 2 in the morning when Myra woke up to the sound of the wind coming from the balcony. Lying on the bed, she saw Roy standing with a cigarette in his hand, looking at the moon. Myra walked beside Roy while clutching the sheets to her chest. “What are doing here this late?”, She looked at Roy and kissed his bare chest as he faced her. Roy and Myra were meeting for the first time but it never felt like the first time. Maybe it was the booze or it was the vulnerabilities they both were facing. Myra was trying to fill the hole which was recently dug and Roy, well he was trying his best to refill the tiny pits in his chest.
Whispering darkness latches on my soul, hung around my neck like an albatross. I hear the cries; I hear the sobs, like the screams in my head deeply lost. Caged in thoughts; the drowning abounds, deep down inside, she could not be found.
In the midst of her thoughts, Myra scrolled down the screen to find the address somewhere in Delhi. She was not sure if she was taking the right decision, but she could not just lie down and let the past haunt her inner peace. So she booked a cab from Gurgaon to South Delhi and started to take charge of every decision she was about to take in her life.
Two months ago she never thought she would doubt herself, but Ruhaan left her no option but to overthink everything that went wrong. Myra got dumped exactly two months ago. After all the sleepless nights and smudged mascara she took a step forward and tried moving on, but failed terribly.
In the cab, a trail of events passed her by where she and Ruhaan were in her bed under the satin sheets kissing each other with naked bodies, but further; Myra seeing Ruhaan kissing his best friend in a party.
“I make elevating music; you make elevator music..” a man with a stubble and shades to cover his dark circles was rapping along the music bursting out of the stereo.
He put a hand in his front pocket and pulled out a cigarette. With one hand on the steering and other to find the lighter, he drove to his apartment on the roads of Delhi. It was six in the evening and he was arriving at his place after drinking every drop from the coffee machine at his office. A new release was about to come on that coming monday to give him his big break. From some guy he was about to become the guy, the Roy.
Work was always his priority, and after that his so called “recreational activities” occupied his empty time slots. His recreational activities were a different kind of adventure, like exploration which involved girls.
Whenever boredom surrounded him, he swiped right girls on tinder and had small chit chats while he took coffee breaks. Most of the chats involved his great art of using words to bring intimacy, which led to sensual meetings and then never meeting again.
That day was his day of sensuality and stress release.
He pushed the brakes to stop by a drugstore, where he bought himself a pack of 6 of durex for his company that night. After picking up chinese for two, he opened his apartment’s door and found his apartment smelling like cigarettes and empty beer bottles lying everywhere in the living room. He rubbed his temple and looked at his watch, she was about to come in an hour or so and the house was a mess after the litter party he had at his place last weekend.
Roy picked the beer bottles and threw the cigarette butts in trash and tried to fix the place when he heard the door bell ring. He looked from the peep hole and saw a petite girl dressed in red with open hair and big breasts.
Roy had a smirk on his face when he thought of the things he would do to her that night. He opened the door and looked at her with venerous eyes.
“Hello, Roy?“, her tone represented every ounce of courage she gathered to deliver that monosyllable.
Without saying a thing, Roy put forth his hand and smiled.
She took his hand and the door closed behind them.
It’s sad isn’t it? When you meet a person you can call home, but somehow you choose the wrong path and walk amidst the loneliest road alone. You think that you may find your way back home by following the stars, but choose the direction of dark clouds. The universe reflected you in the perfect mirror, but you yourself were stupid enough to close your eyes.
As the clock struck 11, she put her phone along her bedside, waiting for his call. Usually Sivan called her post dinner but it was one hour past she had those Chappatis and Dal and he hadn’t called. This was the third time that week.
47, 48, 49, 50. You can’t sleep, can’t you? Tossing and turning in you bed, You think about those times, the one that went wrong, where you shouldn’t have said what you said, or you shouldn’t have done what you did. You recall all the faces, the one that looked you with scorn; the one with the pity in their eyes; and the one who think you are shy. You think about that girl with soft hands, reaching for your shoulder, the one with sweet voice who innocently asked you if you okay, when she saw you sitting in a crowd crying. You repent not looking at her innocent face, as you turned away. You still have the guilt of the escape, when you wiped your cheeks, stood up and left that space.
Sitting on the chair, I tried to concentrate; as the light from the lamp made the room illuminate. Books were scattered, papers were spread over the desk, but they were of no use as they gave me no rest. I looked around and saw no more, my vision was hindered and impaired, it could hardly reach the shore. I looked down and the murmurs began, “Are you crazy?”, “Don’t spoil your future”, “Our family is not meant for such chores”. Every time we went to someone’s house, false considerations and surfaced opinions showered me around, telling me my passion was good for nothing, it was not gonna get me a stable job or settle me in.