What Would He Say?

I always wondered one thing. What does it look like? A macabre? Or like the long neck of a flower vase or perhaps that of a camel’s toe? I walked around savouring only the hidden view of what was indeed the shape of an oracle happening to be.

silhouette of man standing against black and red background
Photo by Elti Meshau on Pexels.com

I am a little farsighted, you know? But I have happened to kill mercilessly at the altar of the God, whose religion I truly believe in. I can see people marching forward now. Kolkata, oh dear and lovely city. The city which gave the sweet sorrow of what heartbreak feels like. Indeed I’ve grown accustomed of the way I get scraps in the name of love from the people I desire the most.

I often wake up as if I’m springing off the bed, like a pressure cooker when it needs to whistle. The only difference is I scream instead of whistling. I bet we all do. They call it a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don’t quite understand what they mean when they say “post-trauma”. I’m perfectly fine, but sometimes I just happen to get jittery and I want to fly open from a deep rested sleep.


The other day my wound was getting dressed. I don’t know how I got it but the injury is pretty deep. Doesn’t really look like a knife stab though. Samantha helped me bathe later. She helped me clean my bum too, as I couldn’t really reach much far out. Good girl she is. I wonder why she has that sad look on her face most of the time. I wish I could WIPE THAT OFF. The other day Krishanu and Abhi were speaking about some plague that took place a month back and how it has led to a lot of impurities in the air and the water that the people live in or with. The taxes need to be heightened too in order to take good care of the people.

Oh no! I’m coughing again. I’m motionless now. HELP! ANYBODY?! My eyes are shutting now. I guess I must rest. There is a sudden flash of tumescent light, I can see a lot of people walking now. It’s a crowd, the entire nation has gathered! So many people and their children. How happy does everyone look! What a site to enjoy! I see all of them walking with the flag of the country.

“We have been saved. Our saviour has saved our women from being raped and saved our future generations from being sold or much worse, dead! Now we shall pay him back. We owe him forever!” I see a very familiar figure walking in that crowd. Long hair, short upper body and long legs. Or at least that’s what I assume from the dress she has put on. She is carrying a flag too! Wait a minute, she is wearing a Red Coral Ring. Well, I happen to own one too. The crowd is gathering up. And I lose her. I decide to follow where the crowd goes and so I cheer along, “God saved the King, God saved our Women, God saved our children but most of all he saved me.” What a selfish, cunt like chant!

I finally find the Red Coral again. I decide to make my way through the crowd and get to her. I squeeze and wiggle my way to this fair lady. While I do that, the crowd suddenly stops. I guess I have to stop too now. There is a man up the pedestal, he is making an announcement. “Well the time has now come, we must give back to the one we owe. He is the almighty and we shall be indebted forever. But we can please him, there is always a way.” And the flag poles go up in the air, loud cheers along. Drums are rolling, the intensity builds up and I hear a scream that sent chills down my spine. I look around, trying to find a source to that scream. Until I hear another, this time it was more manly.

The next that I’m writing now is something that I cannot explain as to why it happened, I see everybody stabbing themselves with the flag poles that they wee holding up. The Shahid Minar looked lovely, the scene looked like a renaissance painting, only we can replace the colours with the stamp of red, thick, blood. The scene was horrific and terrific at the same time. The Red Coral catches my glimpse again, this time it looked like it was calling out to me. I went ahead and I remain shocked for a bereft amount of time. She looked at me, smiled coyly and she then took the plunge. She stabbed herself with the flag pole as well. Screaming, “Inquilab Zindabad” she lies down. The smile on her face had a charm that only the innocent can own. She rests now and I bleed too. Turns out I am injured in the same area that she is. While wait a minute?! She looks familiar and I spring right back up. I wake up in Anit’s arms. My sister Charu is helping me regain my consciousness. I wake up on my bed again. My wound hurts a lot now.

“Sir, she must not die at any cost. She is the only Shaheed we have left alive.” But my name is Bani, why are they calling me Shaheed? I get it now. Or maybe not, nevermind. I have to rest now and rest I shall.

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