The Raven And The Rambler

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Chapter One : Loneliness

“A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke”

― Vincent Van Gogh




“Will that be all you need miss ?” asked the girl with the fuzzy, unruly hair. Her scarf , black, clinging to her long slender neck , her grey trousers catching everyone’s eyes.


The older woman glanced at the girl in front of her. Eyes swollen, shabby hair and lamenting smile, she kept a hand on her forehead and after paying the money went away thinking how was this girl suffering to hide her pain when all she needed was an embrace of love. People sense depravity from miles apart and this sod here was an epitome of it.


“Trisha !..did you deliver the package for Mrs D’souza she didn’t call back yet to confirm.” Mahak demanded in a raised voice.


“Yeah Mahak I did. She was leaving the town for a business trip and needed the groceries to be filled in before she leaves her husband and son.” Trisha completed the talk and after the goodbyes for the day she left.


This has been her life from eight months, she didn’t have to fear about a certain something or someone to impede in her happiness, to ruin her already horrid life. There had been nightmares, some really cruel ones yet she somehow had survived the disastrous phase. She had to be strong not because she’d been crumbled apart by the news but because being ‘free’ again was something so much more dangerous. When you spent the days caged in damnation the only solution is to adapt to learn to live like a slave to someone else. But if the cage is left open you fear something much worse will catch your eyes and leave you to rot in absolute misery.


Haven’t we all had a situation where you get used to the ache and then one day, even when you DO have the choice and the opportunity for better tomorrow you can’t seem to grab it. Yes she wanted it in the past , she would have been really elated if someone or something saved her back then but now after suffering so much she didn’t really care about it and that’s what females do. They forget the pain others inflict on them.


She walked down the road wrapping her arms around her black cardigan trying to pry away from the chill, out in the area. It can get ugly here in Darjeeling in winters though it wasn’t that cold, people had already retired to their houses at 8:30 pm with no sign of a living anywhere.Trisha stepped up on the stone to lose some balance but managed to become steady again. The crossroad was filled with medium and small stones, it was awry as hell and she almost always slipped here . The silence was invaded by a strange noise of footsteps.


She felt the time stand still , the bugs creeping their way up her torso , imaginary but still felt very real. She felt itchy , the bugs aiming for her neck,chest and face giving shivers of fright . Without a second thought she steadied herself and ran like never before. He’s back she felt , the demon, the evilness, his touch that made her insides cringe everything was just like the imaginary bugs which made her feel dirty. They weren’t really there and yet felt awfully painful .She kept her pace and ran , ran to get away from the demon from the bugs. Before she took the turn for her house Trisha was stopped by a manly hand which caused her to scream . The man cupped her mouth and uttered a few words after which she was left not only embarrassed but guilty.


“You dropped your scarf kid. I ain’t a bad man.” the middle aged man gave her scarf back and she ran away to her safe haven, her den , her home. The devil had gone and so were the bugs.


Trisha closed the door of her house and put the latch on its place locking herself from the world outside . She’d been in hell too long to let go of the demons that now possessed her, to be able to trust anyone in this whole goddamn universe. True the world wasn’t a wish granting factory but it was so much more unfair to her than it had been to anyone . And now she thought it would have been better to run away on that fateful day rather than getting married to him. Anger bubbled it’s way through her heart cutting the wounds deeper, her heavy breathing taking several minutes to regain it’s original speed. There’s only one good thing that God had granted her except for this house from her parents and she was thankful for it , opening her eyes she got up and said to the emptiness around her.


“It’s good Mr Chauhan left this world so early I would have stabbed him to death with my own bloody hands.”


Yes.


Her husband Mr Omar Singh Chauhan was dead.


From eight months .


And now the Raven was free again to fly like before.



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