Vengeance is sweet...
She sat in the Starbucks
cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife
lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.
She sat stoic, and expressionless. Wondering what she should
do next. She was free, free as she always wanted to be. Free as she had
imagined herself to be. Suddenly she was reminded of all the things she had had
thought she would do should this day dawn; ever. The cafe was playing Michael
Jackson’s song – Blood is on the dance floor, blood is on the knife...
An unguarded moment and she had let herself smile. Drops of
perspiration were slowly making their way on to her neck. Even in the cool
cafe, she suddenly felt the burning sensation. The salt water had touched her
wound gently, leaving her in agony. The smile disappeared and she was jolted
back to the present. She stared out of the window on to the wet street. It had
just stopped raining and the street was getting back to its din. Cafes were
setting tables on the foot path and Delhiets were readying themselves for a
packed late Sunday evening.
She had always wondered how this day would be. She had
rehearsed each and every step from the house to the hardware store; from the hardware
store to the park entrance (next to the security guard’s cabin); from the park entrance
to Safdarjung’s tomb; inside the tomb; from the tomb to the lotus pond; from
the pond back to the cabin out of the park to the cafe; from the cafe back home.
Every step was well thought through and perfectly executed. She had spent
exactly ten days planning this act. She glanced at her notes and with shaky
hands turned the page to rehearse.
It was time to get up and get going to the library. Krishna
the librarian would be resuming her second shift. The book she was reading was on
horticulture by Professor Swaminathan. She had attended his lectures while at
the Delhi University and had started interning under him for a handsome stipend.
She had always been a bright student in horticulture and the professor had
hoped she would study further. He had wanted her to attend her PhD at Cornell
in the States. And she was all set. Till that fateful day when she met him.
He was dressed in tracks and a loose t-shirt. Nothing unusual
for a gym trainer, except she just couldn’t take her eyes off him; his wasn’t a
muscular built. He was lean and on the treadmill when she entered the gym. As
she was making her way out of the gym, her phone rang. Her eyes were rolling in
embarrassment as her favourite song blared as the ring tone, "O God, I
forgot to put it on silent", she exclaimed. She could already feel eyes
judging her, someone smirking, nodding their head in 'that's not expected from
the patrons here' way.
And then all of a sudden she bumped head first into someone.
It was him. This was not at all the way she had envisioned it. The only
situation that remained unchanged was that they were both sweaty! She fumbled
for words. She wanted to say so many things, sorry being the first word of
course! He looked surprised, she embarrassed, and the next thing he knew, she
was running away.
Theirs was a love as love should be. He had followed her from
the gym to her house and then again the next day from her house to her library and
back home. He had waited under her building till she finally came down and
asked him to come up for a cup of coffee. It was awkward the first time he
entered her house for both of them. He was not used to such a clean ambience
and she to anyone else other than herself in the house.
The coffee visits soon turned to more dinner outings and one
day as he dropped her and as she was kissing him good-bye, he didn’t want to
let go. She giggled and tried to loosen his grip on her waist. But he didn’t
let her. He wanted to linger on. That was the first time she let had her guard
down. He loved her deeply and caressed her enough to make her moan and scream
in happiness. But that was also the only time she had screamed in happiness.
Soon these meetings increased and he only visited her for the
pleasures. He stopped being emotionally involved in her day-to-day chores and
it was as though she was only a physical toy, to be man-handled. She thought it
was because he wanted to start a gym on his own and while she had asked him
many times, he seemed reluctant to share any details. He just told her to stay
off his business issues. The only way she could help him was by providing him
access to her body and to her savings account. She sensed he was in desperate
need of money.
She had read in herbology that even plants have a violent
streak. When disturbed at an unwanted time, they too snap, and in case of
insects, eat them alive. At one of her lowest phases in life, she had equalled
herself to an insect whose inconsequential life was dependent on that insect
snapping tree – in this case, him.
She knew he was misusing her bank account and withdrawing
money from it every now and then; the very money she had saved for her university
studies. But she didn’t let that bother her; she thought she was in love with
him. This continued for months and one fine day she finally mustered up the
courage to ask him why he had suddenly withdrawn a huge sum of two lakhs. She
had not imagined what would follow next. All she could recollect was that she
was on the floor and something had hit her head hard. When she woke up the next
day, her head was pounding, she was wounded, and there was dried blood on the floor
and marks on her wrists and her neck. She examined herself in the mirror and
realised she was attacked by him the last night. She checked for her phone,
there was no sign of it, she checked for her purse and keys, her laptop, no
sign again.
She did not know when or at what time she woke up. Her throat
was dry and parched. She looked at her watch for the time and date. She
calculated she was asleep for an entire day. She searched her house found that
most of her valuables were missing including her jewellery and laptop. All she remembered
was that she had seen him scream at her in anger throw his glass of whiskey on
to the floor and then she had blanked out and woken up only today.
As she was coming back to understanding her environment, a
phone rang. She answered the call and was about to shout when his voice,” I
need money and you better pay up. Of course if you refuse, the MMS that I shall
be sending in a minute will go viral. You will get then details in the same
message. You know what to do baby, remember I love you”.
She had read such horrid stories on facebook and had joked
about how dumb women could be, but had never thought that she would be one of
them! They were even planning to live-in. She started crying and felt very
scared. The first thing she did was lock all the doors and windows of the
house. She cried some more, till her tears had dried away. She waited for him
to come back, or maybe not, for she was scared, what if he hit her again, what
if he killed her this time. She stayed up the entire night to make sure he did
not come back. The second night though she heard him outside her door trying to
open it.
She was shattered beyond belief. Her world had gone
topsy-turvy. And then her inner voice guided her. She spoke for the first time
in days. Her voice was trembling with fear and anger. Then she sat down with a
pen and paper and started writing down all that had happened to her in over the
last couple of months - The fights, the bitter language, the breaking of
glasses, the food being thrown around, and she being hit. She realised she was
abused before by him through all these different means until she would let go
and give him what he wanted sex and/or money.
As she started recollecting the horrible acts, she found an
inner strength that pushed her to become strong. She calculated how much he had
stolen from her – tangible things; like money, jewellery, laptop, expensive
items and credit cards; and intangible things like her confidence, her soul,
and her love. She was not going to let him get away with this so easily. First
she thought of filing a complaint with the police of cheating, deceit and
domestic abuse. Then she thought that would be too easy on him. She thought and
turned around to her book shelf. As her eyes fell on the title, she smiled coy
and impish, ready to take on the world, ready for her revenge. “Vengeance is
after all sweet”. She planned each detail meticulously over a week.
She got up that day and went about with her daily chores. She
went to the local hardware store and bought a chef’s knife. She called up the
mobile phone company to report loss of her sim and requested for a new number. She
also told them to cancel all outgoings and roaming facilities on a particular
number immediately – she did not want him to stay connected with the outside
world. She went to the bank post lunch and reported a loss of her credit cards
and atm pins. She made a call from the bank to a local car-on-hire service to
book a car for the weekend giving false details.
She went to the gym in the evening and was walking back home
when she felt she was being followed. She walked faster to a busy street and
suddenly stopped to turn around. She caught him unawares. When she saw the
surprise on his face, she hugged him tight and told him how much she missed
him. She kissed him long and made sure he went weak in his knees and someplace
else. She held his hand and led him back home. She caressed his hair and kissed
him again passionately. He saw her cooking dinner. He didn’t know what to make
of the situation. He had imagined a fight, him beating her again, threatening
her and what not. This was the exact opposite of that. She was submitting to
all his wishes.
He asked her where she had been. But before he had finished
his question, she said, “Baby, I was thinking, can we just go out for a drive?
It will be a good change”. She handed him the car keys and told him she had
hired a car on rent and that he should go ahead and get the car ready. It was raining
by the time they left and she kept the bedroom light on. She called the
watchman and asked him to check for the overhead tank water spillage. She saw
him leaving his cabin and walking towards the building. She switched off her
bedroom light and took the stairs to the ground floor.
As she sat in the car, he noticed she was dressed differently–
a loose t-shirt over a vest and track pants, with her hair tied in a bun, a cap
covering her head and her blue scarf covering her neck and she was wearing
trainers. As they drove to the Lodhi Gardens, he complained that he was unable
to make calls from his phone; she pretended to ignore it and instead put on
some music. It was close to mid-night as they parked the car. It was still
raining and she insisted that they walk without an umbrella. As they walked in,
the guard at the gate reminded that the walking track would close in a less
than 30 minutes. “That is all the time I need”, she thought. She nodded and
pushed him inside the gardens. As they left the cabin’s vicinity, she pushed
him for a run. “Let’s go lazy bones”. They ran deep into the park till they
reached they reached Safdarjung’s tomb.
She climbed inside it and he followed her. She caught him by
surprise when she hugged him tight and kissed him. As he was busy caressing her
body, she removed the chef’s knife tucked in between her tracks and the tight
vest covered by the loose t-shirt. He was unbuttoning her t-shirt when she
struck him, one single, strong, deep cut on his throat below his ears all the
way to his wind pipe cutting it off completely. He choked, but could not
scream, he didn’t know what had just happened. His eye balls were growing big.
She pushed him back and stood tall. She waited for all the reactions, the
shuddering of the legs, the unsuccessful attempt at covering the throat and
stopping the oozing blood, the desperate attempt to scream and shout, to call
for help, to point towards her as if to tell people that she did it, et. al.
She stood over his body for ten whole minutes as he slipped
into a coma. Finally when she was sure even medical help would do little, she
executed the next stage. She removed the loose t-shirt and the cap and tied her
hair in a pony tail, removed the scarf and put on her glasses. It was still
drizzling as she went to the Lotus pond and rubbed the loose t-shirt, and the
cap in wet mud, put both in a plastic bag with stones and dropped them in the
pond. She allowed them to sink in the water. While she waited she tried to
recollect if there had been a struggle between him and her and if she had left
anything in the tomb or on him.
Finally when she felt it was time, she walked peacefully
across the gardens, passed that security cabin and moved towards the Khan Market
exit. She made her way to the Starbucks cafe. It was buzzing with people and she sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her
coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her
handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.
