The Wind, the Chimes and the Beast

Author : Jayashree Srivatsan  Author Introduction: I am Jayashree Srivatsan a.k.a jaishvats and I blog at http://jaishwrites.blogspot.com I am an Indian currently residing in Singapore with my husband and my little boy. I have always been passionate about creative writing. I started blogging in 2010. Though it was initially for fun, blogging has now become an integral and serious part of my life. I have made a lot of online friends through this medium and that definitely is a huge motivation factor.I aspire publishing my work of fiction in print someday. Story: Boochandi:  The sun should have disappeared by now at the horizon behind the vast expanse of the sea. I cannot see it from where I am lying but I catch the azure hue of the evening sky from the corner of my half closed eyes. I can hear the sound of the waves hitting the shore a few yards away from my seaside mansion. The palpitations in my body seem to be rocking me with a tremendous force. I feel sticky with sweat and something is trickling down my left ear, blood perhaps? A strong gust of wind blows and gets the wind chimes swinging. My wind chimes! They are hanging on my balcony right above me. Despite the shooting pain I feel near my heart, I let myself immerse in their musical noise. Then I hear that! Like it’s almost real! Laughter! Her laughter that used to dance with them every time I shared a joke with her! The searing pain emerges as muffled growls from my mouth. I have sent the servants away and not a soul can hear me. I can feel my lips forming her name – Karishma. Again! And Again! My eyes drift into darkness and images of my past and that specific day keep flashing rapidly. The day I became what the locals call Boochandi, the beast! My name is Raghu. I have never seen my mother. My father belonged to a royal dynasty that had ruled over the entire region in the past. Things changed with time and he inherited just the family surname, some land and this huge mansion. He breathed his last a few days before I turned twenty leaving behind our ancestral property and the successful business enterprise that he had set up. While our loyal accountant managed the assets with prudence I spent my time squandering my wealth. Our mansion was a perennial guest house for my friends from the city who enjoyed accompanying me in my drinking and gambling. With no one to force me to mend my ways and all advice falling on deaf ears, I was moving from bad to worst. That fateful evening three friends and I were lost in a game of cards and bottles of whiskey. Suddenly in a drunken stupor we decided to go on a long drive along the coast in my jeep. I seemed to be managing fine for a few miles. Then everything seemed to blur. My foot pressed on the accelerator with increasing force. I remember being hurled to the ground with a loud crashing noise. When I opened my eyes I found myself near the feet of her statue, Kayal-Aatha’s statue! My jeep had rammed into it after breaking open the temple doors. I had grown up hearing the legend of Kayal-Aatha. It was believed that around three centuries ago, a couple in love had jumped into the sea when the villagers tried to separate them. They lost their lives but the girl became a goddess and the temple was built in her honour. She was said to be very powerful with immense magical powers. Till then I had not believed in her powers. After that moment in my life I had to. A mist swarmed all over me and I saw a figure, no discernible features, just a figure in red. It was dazzling bright almost blinding me. I heard an angry voice “What you have done is unforgivable and you shall pay for it. If and only if true love finds you, will you stop reaping what you have sown”. Silence followed. When I woke up, my friends were missing. A huge crowd had gathered around me and were talking in whispers. I felt extremely weak but garnering as much strength as I could muster, I tried walking in their direction. “Boochaandi, run” one of them screamed. They traced back a couple of steps, turned around and started to flee. ********************************* Karishma: My father has gone out. With nobody else to give me company, it seems extremely quiet. This is an apartment housing many families and a whole lot of quintessential sounds reach my ears; the man in the house below giving his adolescent son an earful, the boy next door talking to someone on his cell phone, the ladies lost in gossip. “Are you going to eat or shall I call the boochandi?” a woman is telling her son in an attempt to feed him his dinner. “You know Karishma, I wonder what I will tell my son if I want to make him eat” he had joked in his deep voice; something the curse had not touched. I still remember that night we left our village; my father and I. Clashes had broken out between rival caste groups. What used to be just a war of words had assumed alarming proportions! The men were drunk and attacking each other without second thought. We had to leave to save our lives. The roads were flooded due to heavy rainfall and danger was lurking in every corner. Taking the sea route seemed to be the only option. Twenty of us left in the late hours of the night. Our intention was to reach the city and stay with some of our relatives till things calmed down. We were mid sea when the strong wind suddenly gained destructive fury and rocked the boat. It capsized hurling all the occupants into the salty waters. After a brief initial struggle, I had fainted. When I woke up, I was on a huge bed in a lavishly decorated room. It was his mansion. An old man who looked like a servant came to my bedside and said “Good morning ma. We found you on the beach. You had drunk a lot of water and were extremely weak. My name is Ramasamy, I am a servant here. Who are you? “ After hearing my account Ramasamy assured me that they would take all measures to locate my father. I was about to ask about the other occupants of the house when I felt dizzy and drifted into sleep again.. That evening I heard a voice outside my room. “Karishma right? I am Raghu; I own this place”. I tried to get out of bed when Ramasamy gestured me not to. It was a vehement gesture, almost like a warning. “NO. Do not get out of the bed” the voice continued in an alarmed tone. ”I will meet you later. Please feel at home.” The noise of rapidly retracing footsteps followed and he was gone. For the next two days the servants treated me like a queen taking care of my every need with utmost care. But he never came. I was mystified and confused. I came to know later that he was extremely scared of me; scared of facing the terror on my face. ***************** Boochandi: When the servants brought her to my doorstep, she had no consciousness. Patches of sand and sea weed were stuck to her wet clothes. Her eyes were closed but her face portrayed complete exhaustion. Her wet hair formed small curls around the fair skin of her face. The small maroon bindi between her arched eyebrows had somehow survived the onslaught of the ocean. I never had the strength to face her after my brief introduction from outside her room. What if she screamed in disgust? What if it subjected her to additional trauma? I did not have to ponder for long. Two mornings later I heard a knock and the jingle of anklets outside my room. I quickly hastened to the window and stood with my back to the door. “I do not have words to thank you for all the kindness and hospitality” I heard her voice. “No worries. Don’t praise me too much” I responded, without turning back. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. “Won’t you look at me?”she asked softly. “No, you don’t know. You would scream if I do” I answered. “No I won’t. Ramasamy told me” she said. I turned around, slowly with a great deal of hesitation. She did not scream. No. She did not even wince. There was not even an iota of disgust on her face, only pity and empathy. She slowly broke into a gentle smile. There was nothing false about it, it was genuine and warm. Where would she be now? Someone seems to stand near the door. Is it you, Karishma? I stretch my hand trying to reach her and the pain soars. I feel like its ripping my sides. ******************************* Karishma: I hear the windows rattling in the wind rush to shut it. A similar wind was blowing when I met him for the first time. His room seemed to reverberate with the sounds from the wind chimes. They were his passion. Nearly fifty varieties adorned his balcony; different colors, different sizes! He had tried to camouflage his features as much as possible. A turtle neck full sleeved tshirt, thick jeans, dark sun glasses. Thick brown hair covered the back of his hands. His face looked like he had been subjected to an acid attack – corroded and in patches. Despite the glasses I could see that his left eye was much smaller and sunken at a lower position compared to the right one. There was absolutely no hair at the sides of his head and the small tuft at the top was extremely thin and had a weird color, something like algae green. There were two small spike like structures just above each of his ears that looked more like an overgrowth of the skin. “She gave him horns” Ramasamy had mentioned. Despite all of it, his eyes were extremely soulful and warm. I left after a brief expression of gratitude. The next day Ramasamy informed me that my father had lost his life in the accident. ******************************************* Boochandi: The news of her father’s demise had shattered her but she was a strong girl. She knew she had to move on. In less than a week she approached me saying that she did not want to burden me and that she wanted to go to the city and find a job. I needed a personal assistant to help me manage the affairs of the company. Our accountant was getting old and needed help. Venturing out of the house was impossible for me. I needed a trustworthy person to be my public face. She seemed to fit the bill perfectly and accepted though with some initial hesitation. In less than a month she became at ease with her job and the stay at the mansion. She was extremely committed, hardworking and smart. I had made a good decision. In the evenings she would come meet me and report the day’s proceedings. What used to be just formal discussions, developed into long conversations. I don’t remember having had a heart to heart talk with anyone else before she came. The initial years passed in arrogance and the rest in seclusion. In fact no one had spoken to me like her, unperturbed. The ugliness seemed to have absolutely no effect on her. We spoke and we spoke; about our childhoods, dreams, small wishes, funny experiences, beliefs, fears and what not. One day Ramasamy informed me that she was visiting Kayal-Aatha’s temple daily. She was praying fervently to the goddess - to relieve me of the curse and the misery. She became the only thing on my mind from dawn to dusk. One evening she was held up due to some work and did not turn up at the usual time in the evening. Every passing minute that I waited seemed like an aeon to me. That’s when the realization struck me like a bolt. I was in love with her. ****************************** Karishma: He had been very succinct and straight forward. As usual, he was standing at the balcony; arms folded looking at the waves lashing the shore. Soothing instrumental music was playing on his music system. I quickly started blurting out why I had been delayed. He seemed distant and uninterested. I went near him and asked “Something wrong Raghu?” “I don’t know. I love you and I want to marry you”. I could not exactly place the emotion in his tone; it was torn between guilt and desire. “I don’t know if I should dare to say this,” he continued “but it’s from the bottom of my heart and I mean it.” “I don’t know what to say Raghu ” I responded and walked out. It had been unexpected but it triggered some feeling inside of me. Shock? Anger? Or was it pleasure in the guise of shock? I needed to understand it myself. That night I received a phone call. It was my father. ******************************* Boochandi: I could not believe that I had conveyed my feelings to her like that without faltering at all. Perhaps it was because I had not given myself any time for preparation. That would have probably lessened my courage to do so. I never had an opportunity to speak to her again. I came to know about her father being alive. I was sad! Disappointed! She had to leave. She came to me the next morning. “Raghu, my father is alive!” she exclaimed. “I heard. Great News” I responded in a tone befitting a eulogy with a smile that was blatantly fake. “When are you leaving?” “I am thinking of taking the afternoon train.” “Good.” There was a silence for some time. “Raghu, I am extremely grateful to you for all that you have done. I don’t think there is any means by which I can repay. You are a very good man” she said in a softened tone. “But that does not mean I can waste my life and marry you?” I guess that’s what she meant. “I need to go now. Bye. Thanks again for everything” she said, gave me a cursory smile and turned to go. “You…you will come back?” I blurted out before my own self stopped me. She stopped and turned around slowly. “Will you come back?” I repeated almost in a whisper focussing my gaze on my toes. When I looked up her eyes were fixed on mine, firm yet gentle. I fought the urge to pull her into my arms. “I will”, our eyes locked for a second and she left. ************************ Karishma: I left the mansion a week ago. Amnesia after the accident had erased my existence from my father’s memory. Fortunately it gradually returned and now he is the same man I was separated from. I was overjoyed on seeing him again. Yet, something was amiss. Something I could not place! I seemed to have returned to a place I no longer belonged.  I told him all about Raghu; including his feelings for me. “I am indebted to him for life for helping my daughter. But marriage! To a man like that? Forget the whole episode Karishma. Just come back with me.” This was his response. How can I forget Raghu? What exactly are my feelings for him? I don’t know. Do I love him too? I don’t know. But forgetting him? No way! I know he would be waiting desperately to hear from me. “Let’s go back home” my father said. Home? Ever since I left Raghu and the mansion, something has been gnawing at me from inside. A weird feeling! A feeling that I have left home! What’s that sound? Wind Chimes? I run in its direction. There, I spot it on the window next door. The tinkling fills me with nostalgia and suddenly I feel like I am back there at the mansion; with him ; talking to him. Is that where I belong now? The sounds keep coming to my ears and I close my eyes. A sense of foreboding envelops my being. A feeling dark and dreadful! Oh Raghu…Raghu, something wrong?  ******************************* Boochandi: There they go again, my chimes. I open my eyes and I feel cold. I wonder how long I have been lying here. I can hear some birds chirping and the smell of morning hits my nostrils. I try to move but cannot, not even an inch. My eyes slowly close and I see the stars again. “Raghu, Raghu, Can you hear me?” I hear her voice, distant and feeble. Is she …is she crying? I try to speak but fail. “No Raghu, you have to open your eyes. You cannot leave me. Not one minute could I pass without thinking about you. I love you too Raghu” Am I dead? Asleep? Dreaming? I can’t open my eyes no matter how hard I try. “Raghu, I love you Raghu. Truly, madly, deeply. No matter how you look, what your appearance is, I know that heart beats only for me. Open your eyes Raghu”. The last words come out in a scream and then there is silence. I can feel her head resting against my chest. Then that noise starts. Sharp loud drum beats! I cannot open my eyes yet no matter how hard I try. When I finally do thick smoke hits my eye and its dazzling bright and red. I see a pair of lips smiling. Then there is a flash of lightning “Raghu, Raghu!” This time I open my eyes and she is holding my cheeks in her hands, tears streaming down her face. She runs inside, grabs a mirror and rushes back to my side. She smiles with a gleam in her moist eyes and shoves the mirror in my face. Who is this? Oh My God! I am back to the form I had almost forgotten. She flings the mirror, throws her arms around me and plants a tender kiss on my lips.” I love you, Raghu”. I lose myself in the warmth of her embrace and my wind chimes pitch in to celebrate.