GO, FLY A KITE (fiction/shortstory)
By Neel Anil Panicker
Abhi sat on the last bench, the one at the extreme end of the park. It was his spot, his go to place whenever he wanted some me time for himself, whenever the two room brick and wall structure he had mistakenly presumed to be home turned claustrophobic, and whenever the invectives, abuses, and sheer toxity that streamed out of his wife’s mouth became absolutely unbreable, even for a thick skinned person as him.
His better wife? Yeah, he smirked, a wry smile emanating from his lips.
Certainly, she was. His better wife who lover to batter him.
The evening rays, sneaked and snaked in and out of the palm leaves that hung over his head.
His exposed knees and hands qlternately glowed and darkened.
An apt metaphor for what his life had turned into.
As he squinted his eyes against the still harsh sun rays, his mind triggered a memory.
“We are made and meant for each other”.
Her words, the one she loved to whisper into his eager ears when the two were caught in the throes of maddeningly deep, everlasting love.
And how had he fallen for those immortal romance dripping lines.
One lover to another.
As visuals of his past flitted past, Abhi, seated in his secluded corner, shook his head in near violent disbelief.
Bullshit…Whoever falls in love at 22?
At that age men get lost chasing lust.
As was his case.
He lusted after her body, dreamt of it day and night.
And she, the smart social climber that she was, spotted a window of opportunity and laid out the rod. The poor fish that he was, naive and gullible to the core yet hungry fell for the surreptitious bait_hook, line and sinker.
And the rest is history. His history…a broken down, ruined life, a life that has seen and heard and experienced nothing save hatred and vile conduct, a vile evil never ending drama enacting, acted, and played out in his ”home’ by his ‘soul mate’ turned mate without a soul.
The memories kept rolling by, each montage a stab deeper into his battered heart.
Fights…accusations…allegations…animosity..hate…his life story in words.
Abhi turned his gaze upwards.
A kite hovered in the distant horizon, bobbing and skillfully skirting past the greying clouds.
Abhi stared on, watching and wondering at the kite’s desperation.
He felt he was the kite.
His Bhavna, the string.
It was time he cut the string.
‘was time he became a free bird.
The thought sat over him for a long, long time.
Thereafter, he straightened, shook his head vigorously, and got up.
That evening as he walked back to his house, there was a note of determination in his eyes.
His walk was sanguine, too.
A hint of a smile also played on his lips.
As Abhi entered past his society gate, he knew what he would do, what had to be done.
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#WRITEPHOTO – Kites