This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 38; the thirty-eighth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "The Woman on platform number 10."
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| If good exists, so does evil... if you believe in God, do believe in devil. |
The dark moonless night.
Wind blowing, creating the sound as of passing through a tunnel.
Leaves rustling.
Owl howling somewhere far off.
He
found himself standing at a deserted platform, along with the woman, on
platform number 10. It was a weird time and place to be, for a woman, but
then, so it was for him as well. The long black hairs of the lady
covered most of her face, but he could make out that she was indeed
beautiful, very unconventionally so. Her skin was as white and flawless
as marble. he wondered if it was as cold as well. Her eyes had a strange
glint, strange and scary. He knew he must not stare, but he couldn't
help, as if he was spellbound, as if his senses were not in his control. She looked at him and smiled. his heart thudded, fear, anxiety, don't
know. She walked up to him. He wanted to move away, but he felt
transfixed. She stood very close to him, uncomfortably close, running
her long sleek fingers on his face. A chill ran down his spine, as much
as from the fact that her skin felt icy against his warm skin, as from
fear. she wrapped one arm across his shoulders as if to hug him, and
other to the back of his head. she bend her head. She will kiss me, he
thought, amused, scared, confused. She slightly bend his head to the
side. He felt his goosebumps rising. And suddenly he felt her teeth
digging deep into his flesh, drawing blood. an excruciating pain hit
him.
He
woke up screaming and sweating, holding his neck. He fanatically moved
his hands on his neck, searching for the bite, but found none. it took
him a moment to realize he was dreaming.
"Damn"
His
breath still came labored, his throat hurting from thirst . He gulped
down half the chilled bottle and drained the rest over his head. He had
been dreaming strange things lately. That perturbed him. After too much
of chiding from his only close friend he went to see a psychiatrist.
After hearing him out, she said it is not unusual, all these dreams. He
actually had been through a lot. He made himself a strong black coffee,
lighted a cigarette and stood hanging over the railing in the balcony. He could still hear their last fight echoing all over the house.
I don't want a family, not from you. Never from you.
And
that had been the end of everything good he had ever hoped for, ever
dreamed of, ever worked for. He still remember how he met his now ex
wife over a matrimony site six years back. After initial chitchats they
decided to meet. They wanted to be sure of their compatibility before
they could get their parents involved. He was late and when he entered
the coffee shop where they decided to meet each other, he saw her
sitting contently in a corner, oblivious to her surrounding, completely
engrossed in a book. He still remember, the title read "the woman on
platform number 10". He remembered because the story with the similar title
"the woman on platform 8" by Ruskin bond had been his favorite, since
high school, and remained so throughout his growing years. Their first
meeting went well. It wasn't anything like lightening strike. It took
them both time to get comfortable with each other, and by the end they
decided on a second meeting. And they kept meeting, whenever possible. And then one fine day he realized he was in love with her. He wasn't the
man to hold back his feelings and he was blessed with the same
reciprocation. They decided to approach their families. He remember his mother was quite reluctant after meeting her.
She isn't good enough for you son, give it another thought before making a final decision.
It was very strange of his mom to take disliking of anyone in one meet.
I should have listened to her, he
sighed. But it was too late to repent now,the damage was done. Love,
sometimes acts as blinders, it restricts your view to the person you
love. It so conveniently changes your theories of science, where the
center of universe no more remains to be the sun, but changes to that one
person you love. And so, blaming it all on love, he married her.
She
had been awfully quiet and secretive. And always avoided intimacy with
him. He thought may be the change is still hard on her. And like a good
husband he gave her time and space to settle down. But nothing changed. He remembered his mother cried like a child when he told her he has
decided to move away from home, that he has rented a flat in the same
city because he felt his dear wife was not feeling comfortable living in
the family. His dad never said a word. But still nothing changed, at
least not for good. She took a job and he came to know about it from
others.
why didn't you tell me?
Is it a compulsion that i tell you everything. its my life after all .
Yeah, true, but still.... what package have they offered you?
Don't even think of it, am not going to let you lay your hands at even a single of my penny.
He staggered backwards as if been hit. "no that's not what i meant. i just wanted to know if the job is worth that much."
Ohh so you think I'm some kind of a stupid or like that...
No, i didn't mean......
And she had stormed out even before he could finish. Later that year he found out that she had sold the solitaire ring he had so
lovingly gifted her on their first anniversary, because she needed
cash. He was so hurt that she didn't find it fit to ask him, instead she
preferred to sell the ring he so fondly gifted. He knew a confrontation
was worthless so he kept quiet.
And
never once she let him touch her. Initially when he tried, she
stiffened, and then she always made an excuse. He thought may be a
child, a family of their own would mend a bridge between them. But
instead it ended everything he had been desperately trying to make work
for past five years- his marriage. He never quite understood what went
wrong. He did everything in his power to make their marriage work, but
it quite simply didn't, for apparently no reason.
Its
been sometime that he is divorced now, but still the memories of the
past haunts him. It has closed him down to any new relationship to
woman. His psychiatrist says he eventually will come around. He is not
sure, but wants to give it a shot. If for nothing then for escaping from
all these God forsaken dreams that leaves him longing for sleep.
when you are so burdened with destiny and fate
like a Phoenix, burn, and from your own ash, reincarnate.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: BLOGGER NAME, Participation Count: 08
