The eyes say it all

by Deepak Divakar

Logged: September 9th 2011 8.08 AM

A Gray sky with vaguely visible clouds, a perfect backdrop for a quiet stroll in a park.  His eyes rest on an empty seat nearby away from public glares and irrelevant spectators. The only witness was a jogger who was pretty much taken aback by the grim emotionless look on his face. He quietly walks up, takes a seat and pulls out a thick photo journal out of his briefcase. He opens it up and runs his fingers through now distant memories one by one till he finally lands upon one picture which used to always brighten his face. He sighs and looks around to feel pretty relieved that he is alone now. He reaches out to his briefcase one more time and gets his tools out – a brush, a pad and a couple of black pants. He assembles it over the stone slab neatly and gets to work on the photo he had picked out earlier. He takes a look at the kind, beautiful calming face and knows his work isn’t going to be easy. He dips the brush till 1/3rd of the bristles are wet and he gently starts making repeated strokes at the photo. As he starts off with the cheeks he stops for a second.

|| It was the same park 18 years back and he could still remember the warmth of her lap while she playfully used to pick on his nose and fondle his ear to her heart’s content. Those times where blissful. He remembered how he used to love it when she used to bend over and rub her soft cheeks on his skin while he popped out small perky laughs. Happiness is always momentary but with her the sun never used to drop. ||

He looked at the time, its 1.30. The court hearings would begin in another 30 minutes. He hurriedly finishes the work on the cheeks and the forehead. He is saving the eyes for last. His brush now touches the nose.

|| The backdrop was similar even back when he brought his love home for the first time. It was 3 years back. She was ecstatic and excited to meet her. Never had he seen her so overjoyed till last Christmas when he had bought her a television. He remembered how her nose flared up as she animatedly explained how she had met her husband. Was this an illusion, he could never say. But it was like a dream to him and he imagined the rest of his days to be perfect. Hakuna Matata. ||

He sighs again. Now all that was left was the eyes. He stared at the eyes for a long time and he could feel the eyes staring right back at him. He stops. The eyes were piercing into him, so intense till he could feel his teeth chattering when it all made sense. The eyes said it. It explained a story to him. A memory she didn’t want him to see. Right then, he was warped onto the other side of those deceptive eyes.

|| The room was dark. It was her bedroom with green walls which were plastered with red sickening thick coats of blood. He sees her kneeling down with a cleaver, humming along, chopping away on the thigh of a girl. The same girl he had brought home a few months ago. Her head was on the floor with her eyes glaring right at him. Sensing his presence, she turns back and smiles at him welcoming him home. He collapses. ||

He slowly picks up his tools and arranges them back neatly in his briefcase. He looked at the time, its 1.50. He gets up, looks around and decides where he has to head next. Step by step he walks towards the sun which was taking its time to come out of its hideout. Back on the stone slab, the photo still remains with the eyes left untouched.

PS: The dream is about a mother’s unremitting incessant love for her son which turns her to kill her son’s girlfriend. These are just vague extracts from a dream so do not expect an answer behind the real motive of the killer. But yea, watch out for the eyes, they always give people away.

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