Panchalibolchi: Contest; Short story

It had stopped raining. The park was empty; Ravi was lying on one of the wet benches, with arms folded under his head, gazing at the sky now full of stars. His heart was dark, as dark as the surrounding darkness, with hopes cascading down into exhaustion. Ravi inserted a cigarette into his lips, leaned back, and closed his eyes; he was unhappy, that much was clear, and he had been unhappy for several months now. He drew into himself and groaned,’ I’m so tired, it’s all because of me…my wrong decision, everything went out of control’, he intoned, slapping his head with his hand. His anger was burning into bitterness….

Background:

Ravi’s decision to leave his village and land up on a heedless father-in-law’s doorstep after marriage turned out to be totally messy. The bride's family knew about his poor financial status, so they thought he’d never return to his ancestral home and kept crushing his pride….Only Subhadra, his wife was sympathetic, stayed suitably chagrined, and kept worrying about him. She observed cynical attitudes of her family members; fretted and fumed, and then one day opted to chuck it all and move out. She told Ravi, that she would respect freedom than living like slaves in her own house.

Ravi’s head started reeling. Until this moment, his wife's image constantly evoked only as an individual face in that household; he scarcely bothered about her as his responsibility. He pushed his lower lip in recognition. There was a suppressed joy in his heart...!

Ahhhhhhh▲hhhhhhh....SOAK NO MORE....

The breeze was strong; he smoothed his hair back on his head. Determinedly rubbed his dirty shoes in the grass, and started pacing down the lawn, faster and faster.

The sudden illume was blinding; it gradually grew brighter, stronger, and threw him out of the cocoon. He cursed himself for keeping himself wrapped in its rent unnecessarily for two years.

The whole household was watching a late night serial as he stepped in…. The sonorous jingle of the 'Surf Excel Matic' came floating through the air. Ravi went inside, watched the Advertisement with unimaginable patience. He realized, the entrancing words in blue weren't ordinary; there was something persisting in that blotch of pink paint. His mind ran faster than it had ever done before and pretty soon he was able to connect with the meaning, intent, and voice phrased in that language. The lyrics came to his aid as a savior and he was on guard immediately...

’Soak No More’… The words seeped into him and took him beyond the realm of soaked clothes.... The jingle pumped in noteworthy strength into his mind. His life was literally soaked in stain and muck, he tried to smile. His reputation in the house was dirtier, grungier and perhaps more besmirched than clothes et al. It embarrassed him a little...but, he muttered,’ I've reached the end of my patience....ah, I must soak no more....’ !! His voice sank low, to a barely audible whisper.

The self-imposed task of ‘not having to soak anymore’,offered him a gift beyond price. Like vibrating molecules of the detergent; eddies of emotions were already moving and flickering within him. He smiled right back, accepting this implicit challenge.

Shubhadra was sitting in the swing rigged up in a corner, under the shade of a peepal tree in the courtyard. Ravi’s mind swung wildly; he tugged at the rope, and let the swing rise up in the air. Her blue sari went fluttering towards the sky, racing his heartbeat; and the memory of the first kiss aroused Ravi.... a clear night stood blue between the two of them after many many nights.

Shubhadra’s bangles jingled musically as the swing came down…closer and closer. Ravi’s gaze sharpened, and he held the rope; winked and let her flow out of his hands once again. Shubhadra flashed a sweet smile and it 'soaked up' all his worries…

The swing kept swaying in a lazy rhythm…

After some time, Shubhadra rose, leaned closer to Ravi and retched,’ Thank you very much for everything you’ve done for my family’, it was clear, she wasn't expecting any answer. Subdued, she stepped away, and managed to get inside the room. Ravi followed her. Fast. And she loved it...

Ravi remarked . 'I was lucky, that I had a proper home to keep you, my dear… but now, you’re ready to stay with me in my fairy-land; an island that might just disappear one day into a mist… I am a writer, Shubhadra, very much a ruler, a king of my mind…but, I have very little money to keep my wife 'sequined like a queen’, … his mouth quirked, his expression lightened.

And, without any warning, he rushed out. Shubhadra's started walking smartly behind him with a tin suitcase.

They reached Ravi's ancestral home, and stepped into his tiny room. The small house was in a dilapidated condition. His room had a single bed, a study-table and a few books on the book shelf. Card-board papers were glued to the broken window panes, the walls were peeling from the floor-to-the-ceiling. Shubhadra kept her emotions to herself, she was satisfied to find an accommodation at least; lack of freedom had driven her mad.

She pushed open a window, the outside looked beautiful, calm...a breath of fresh air gushed in and first time in her life she saw the most spectacular honeyed moon; a beautiful curve like a motif floating up in the night sky...

'Do you think, you'll be able to stay here, Shubhadra?', asked nervous Ravi.

'We'll survive, don't worry,' she whispered pacifying his pleading eyes.

Ravi smiled, he noticed her dark innocent eyes and the tattooed bindi between her eye-brows! Her potent smile sent erotic little shivers down his spine. He wrapped her in his arms; the strength of his hands, the faint masculine scent of him, the gentle rocking in each other's arms --all combined to add fuel to the burning fire in the night. First time in two years, they followed what their hearts desired...

Ravi was surprised how powerfully he was affected by a simple advertisement of Surf Excel matic...He let out a soft sigh and said, 'Thank you, Surf Excel Matic and HUL for your compelling presence.'