All was well and he seemed to be doing good till his obsession got the better of him. He started feeling that people were noticing him, he felt being followed, he felt people keeping a constant watch over him, and he felt he is being watched more than he watching people for their behavior.
That‘s it he felt uncomfortable and fell into a deep well of self-pity and started feeling conscious of his self and started avoiding people, eye contact, he used to hear voices all around him and they seemed to haunt him.
People had long discussions and if he heard laughter’s aloud he amused something was wrong with him and thought people discussed about him behind his back. It was getting on his nerves, he started missing office, he started staying at home, the guy who used to be impeccably dressed and move around walked in a hollow state.
His bread started growing, his unkempt hair covered the rest of the face that was visible and grew longer to contemplate the bread. He closed in his shoulders that they almost touched together in front of his chin. The total turn of characteristics made him into a man who lost all in a very young age. He lost touch with outside world and he had forgotten to eat as well.
Nobody found his absence and people thought probably he had shifted to another city and settled with something he found. As it is he never had any familiar conversations with anybody and he never disclosed his feelings or thoughts to people, there was no reason to find him. He left his job and was also running out of money but did he bother about it….no.
Days went on and he confined himself to his room and never came out of it. The neighbors, the landlord got worried and kept knocking at his door for some days with no answer and only sudden shrill sounds from inside. They were so much sacred to break open and take a look, they kept wondering what horrid images they would find and that kept them at bay. They kept it as their little secret and went on their way of life. The people were horrified by the shrill voices at night, the only evidence of the life that used to live there in the house and had strolled by.
Sometimes they heard several voices from inside but could not figure out who went and at what time? They could not notice anybody walking up to the house nor walking away from it and wondered how the voices came from as they heard? It became a mystery day-by-day.
Caught in all this entanglements…he lost his life and his prime time of his life was being wasted in hallucinations and disturbed feelings. One day it became unbearable for him, talking and fighting with himself, he banged open the doors of his house and walked into the broad day light, a man of extreme smartness and a lad of early twenties walked as if he was aged in days and a old sage, with unkempt clothes and a bad hovering smell of unkempt hair and body.
He goes to a small shop and buys a fag for himself, he wasn’t a smoker but used to occasionally with friends. Today, he felt he wanted to and took long staggering puffs of it…he seemed to relax in months.
He stood there looking at the sun, the blinding effect it made on his eyes, he closed his eyes, looked into the black circles that formed…and was lost in abysses. He finished off his cigarette and starts talking to himself, people kept looking at him, and the shopkeeper had literally shoved him away, till he produced the 100 rupee note.
Strangely, not much of a scene was created at his appearance and people looked at their jobs busily, this city has lost its intuitiveness. He walks back to his abode after what looked like almost some two hours of standing on the road with closed eyes and the lone cigarette puffing away in the daylight.
That‘s it he felt uncomfortable and fell into a deep well of self-pity and started feeling conscious of his self and started avoiding people, eye contact, he used to hear voices all around him and they seemed to haunt him.
People had long discussions and if he heard laughter’s aloud he amused something was wrong with him and thought people discussed about him behind his back. It was getting on his nerves, he started missing office, he started staying at home, the guy who used to be impeccably dressed and move around walked in a hollow state.
His bread started growing, his unkempt hair covered the rest of the face that was visible and grew longer to contemplate the bread. He closed in his shoulders that they almost touched together in front of his chin. The total turn of characteristics made him into a man who lost all in a very young age. He lost touch with outside world and he had forgotten to eat as well.
Nobody found his absence and people thought probably he had shifted to another city and settled with something he found. As it is he never had any familiar conversations with anybody and he never disclosed his feelings or thoughts to people, there was no reason to find him. He left his job and was also running out of money but did he bother about it….no.
Days went on and he confined himself to his room and never came out of it. The neighbors, the landlord got worried and kept knocking at his door for some days with no answer and only sudden shrill sounds from inside. They were so much sacred to break open and take a look, they kept wondering what horrid images they would find and that kept them at bay. They kept it as their little secret and went on their way of life. The people were horrified by the shrill voices at night, the only evidence of the life that used to live there in the house and had strolled by.
Sometimes they heard several voices from inside but could not figure out who went and at what time? They could not notice anybody walking up to the house nor walking away from it and wondered how the voices came from as they heard? It became a mystery day-by-day.
Caught in all this entanglements…he lost his life and his prime time of his life was being wasted in hallucinations and disturbed feelings. One day it became unbearable for him, talking and fighting with himself, he banged open the doors of his house and walked into the broad day light, a man of extreme smartness and a lad of early twenties walked as if he was aged in days and a old sage, with unkempt clothes and a bad hovering smell of unkempt hair and body.
He goes to a small shop and buys a fag for himself, he wasn’t a smoker but used to occasionally with friends. Today, he felt he wanted to and took long staggering puffs of it…he seemed to relax in months.
He stood there looking at the sun, the blinding effect it made on his eyes, he closed his eyes, looked into the black circles that formed…and was lost in abysses. He finished off his cigarette and starts talking to himself, people kept looking at him, and the shopkeeper had literally shoved him away, till he produced the 100 rupee note.
Strangely, not much of a scene was created at his appearance and people looked at their jobs busily, this city has lost its intuitiveness. He walks back to his abode after what looked like almost some two hours of standing on the road with closed eyes and the lone cigarette puffing away in the daylight.
He comes to his abode as he has been lucky to not confiscated by the law from been smoking on a street and returns home safe. He had kept his doors open and did not lock it. He felt there isn’t any need of it now and he was like an open book and all these days of solace had reviled him all bonds and expectations and he break away the rules that bound him. He had also forgotten the ways of life used to be stiff and stridden in clutches everywhere.
He gets back and immediately notices something odd about his house. He finds tracks but not sure what or which caused the tracks there were prints of few toes and the rest of the leg prints missing. He is petrified and wonders what or which caused this? He feels someone’s there in his place, it is possessed. He tries to shake it away by throwing his things, by scattering things, making huge noise and sounds, people rush to see what the commotion is about?
Now, how the prints get in there in the first place…obviously the place was not kept neat and tidy. It has amounts of dust and mud filled on the floor that where perfect foliage for the prints. He turned the house upside down but could not get any trace of the animal or human that could have done this. People kept looking for some time at the commotion and his restlessness and then murmuring to themselves walked away to mind their own chores.
They kept reminding themselves that a collective approach to the problem must be done to get this cranky fellow out of this place. His parents did not know what’s wrong with this guy and they kept put in their place and never knew of what was happening here. He had attended a few calls sometime back and had answered to them, ‘Don’t call me. I am very busy and will call back when I have time.’ And they believed he was extremely busy that they kept him away from home for almost two months, were getting worried at the end of it.
What happened to him? Why is he isn’t calling them? What happened to his usual behavior of calling them for every single enquiry? Really worried the couple, decide to travel to see him the Sunday and start to get there by the train.
They reach the house where he stays and hearing a lot of conversations and surrounded by still hopeless and useless people, the place where he stays, both are worried and dropping their belongings run up a flight of stairs to see their son amidst the abysses and they are not able to recognize their child and neither he could his parents.
They rake him up and the eyes that used to pour gallons of love and affection, is lost in memory and it is totally out of focus.
Short Stories by Kavitha Kumaresan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License
He gets back and immediately notices something odd about his house. He finds tracks but not sure what or which caused the tracks there were prints of few toes and the rest of the leg prints missing. He is petrified and wonders what or which caused this? He feels someone’s there in his place, it is possessed. He tries to shake it away by throwing his things, by scattering things, making huge noise and sounds, people rush to see what the commotion is about?
Now, how the prints get in there in the first place…obviously the place was not kept neat and tidy. It has amounts of dust and mud filled on the floor that where perfect foliage for the prints. He turned the house upside down but could not get any trace of the animal or human that could have done this. People kept looking for some time at the commotion and his restlessness and then murmuring to themselves walked away to mind their own chores.
They kept reminding themselves that a collective approach to the problem must be done to get this cranky fellow out of this place. His parents did not know what’s wrong with this guy and they kept put in their place and never knew of what was happening here. He had attended a few calls sometime back and had answered to them, ‘Don’t call me. I am very busy and will call back when I have time.’ And they believed he was extremely busy that they kept him away from home for almost two months, were getting worried at the end of it.
What happened to him? Why is he isn’t calling them? What happened to his usual behavior of calling them for every single enquiry? Really worried the couple, decide to travel to see him the Sunday and start to get there by the train.
They reach the house where he stays and hearing a lot of conversations and surrounded by still hopeless and useless people, the place where he stays, both are worried and dropping their belongings run up a flight of stairs to see their son amidst the abysses and they are not able to recognize their child and neither he could his parents.
They rake him up and the eyes that used to pour gallons of love and affection, is lost in memory and it is totally out of focus.
Short Stories by Kavitha Kumaresan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 India License
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