Skip to main content

SHE LIGHTS ME UP

Image
SANGEETHA KAMATH

                           

                 SHE LIGHTS ME UP 

The hallways and chambers of the ancestral mansion are bathed in an orange sheen cast by the setting sun. Soon, it will be awash with the palest of hues as twilight streaks the sky.

A faint fragrance of Parijat flowers floats in from the backyard. Through the wide windows overlooking the garden, I see her sitting under the blossoming tree. Although lost in thoughts, her fingers are deftly weaving the flowers to adorn her hair. 

I hear the tinkle of her anklets approaching me from where I'm sprawled out, suspended from the high ceiling in all my splendor, crystal pendants chiming softly in the light breeze and casting prismatic splashes on the marble floor.

She lowers me down to light my candles. I'm facing her now. Romila, the lady of this mansion. An ethnic beauty with an oval face and pools of brown, melancholic eyes, her face is listless and tear stained. Her efforts to look cheerful draws a naught. 

She lights me up every evening at this hour. Her duty is done and I'm back at my elevated place. It's a vantage point from where I witness the horrendous goings-on after every sundown.

The beast is sloshed as he storms in and bellows. Romila gasps as he clutches her by her hair and drags her inside even as she struggles and protests helplessly. The Parijat florets torn away from her cascading hair get strewn around. Beyond the door, I hear Romila's blood curdling shrieks. Her pleas for him to stop thrashing her go unheard. Calls for help are muffled. After a spell, the indistinct sounds fade to a sputtering… choking… and… silence!

Out he walks in a drunken stupor and looks up, claiming victoriously that he has done away with the ill-omened wretch who had only brought setbacks in his life.

A gust of wind howls outside. I sway furiously with an intensity I've never known before. My crystal pendants jangle in a rage. There's nothing left in this mansion now. My glory and magnificence don't deserve to adorn this slaughterhouse! 

There he stands right below me, throwing his head back and guffawing uncontrollably like a maniac. His cackles stop abruptly, his face contorts and freezes in a silent scream as I let go of all of my 70 pounds of dead weight metal to come crashing down on him. 

Shards of crystal cut through his skin and flesh. Blood oozes out of deep gashes, the crimson pools soaking up the carpet. The lit candles scatter all over and the tiny flames whispering around the lacy tassels soon become a roaring fire engulfing the beast trapped under me, toasting him alive.

I have put an end to a demon. A glory in name, I have lived up to it like a warrior, avenging Romila.

As I lie wrecked, broken and splintered, the mansion soon becomes a mountain of fire putting an end to a vile bloodline. 

My sacrifice was worth it!


Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 








Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

HOME AND HIBERNATION

SANGEETHA KAMATH
And out of nowhere came this madness to wreck mayhem in my already topsy turvy world! Tickets back to Singapore were initially booked on the Chennai transit (why of all the cities?) Because of the shortest layover I could muster, given my still delicate health conditions and which was never even an intentional choice in all my 23 years of travel to and from Singapore. This had to be it even though I was on unfamiliar grounds.  But Luck seemed to have a mind of it's own and turned its back on me when Fenjal decided to crash bang in the middle of orderly events, a day before my intended day of travel.  When destiny's favorite child was shielded by Baba and his blessings, even Luck had to bow down and retreat in haste. **** Roused from my siesta with a sense of a peculiar dimness and chill , a far cry from the usually sunny and blinding brightness of humid Mangalore, I couldn't help but have that niggling feeling at the back of my mind. Checking on the flight updates for IXE-M...
Post a Comment
Read more

IRONCLAD

SANGEETHA KAMATH
  I trudged through withered bracken and the frosted winter parade As ice-storms swept across a barren, icicle'd glade A hushed midnight and the gloomy woods were bathed in a dull pallor of the gibbous moon Melodies lamented and moaned an endless, melancholic tune ‘Twas a lone walk through pastures of wilted blooms Solitude was a friend in the summers of honey breath in the deep green woods Swept away by the currents or blown away by the torrents As twilight lazily rested on hillocks and in the amaranthine dells Like a laden cloud I cascaded down when the load was a dead weight I had gathered pieces of myself and strung them together with a parched wreath  Pensive was the boon of listening to rumbling whispers  Like a dimpling stream I flowed and carved my own trails Like the ocean arose and crashed to write my own fate, Letting the sun guide my way and the moon shine on my rugged path Now I ask all the pulsing stars to sing of my struggles,   The forests to hum...
Post a Comment
Read more

SECOND LIFE SECOND BIRTHDAY

SANGEETHA KAMATH
  I finally muster the energy, the grit and the emotional embrace to write about it. When life socked the daylights out of me in ways that I never imagined, I looked on the upside of it as a divine intervention and a another miracle to add to my list in this year 2024 which went down the memory highway full throttle ahead. July 7, Dear Diary is a day which left a distinct mark. A day when my father had a coronary follow up and I not only went along, but also had a check up done for myself. This was a couple of days after my visit to Sai Mandir where Sai Baba guided me to go for a cardiogram. A strong inner voice, authoritative yet kind, a heightened intuition, call it what I may, rang in a manner that couldn't be ignored. That said and done, I had a consultation with my father's doc who did my ECG and ECHO. Minutes flew by in deafening silence when he finally finished the tests and to my horror bluntly revealed that I have an ASD. A 38mm hole in my heart. I was advised to go f...
1 comment
Read more

SAPPHIRE POOLS (DAY 3, POST 1)

SANGEETHA KAMATH
Glinting sunlight off jeweled pools of sapphire Shimmering in the vast aridness of coppery fire Fringed with a viridescent canopy of trees fig and fronds of palm A sanctuary for birds and animals to splash about, it's a soothing balm Scorched and parched, my soles trudge on the sun baked grains Seeking respite from the bleeding crimson fireball, stranded I remain Mounting sand dunes, slipping, tumbling, sinking Scraped and raw, peeling sunburnt skin  Veils of illusion lifts from fleeting dreams and hollow shine Fading hues of paradise around reduced to shriveled creepers and withering vines Imperial silver puddles on blazing bronze sand Deceived again by the phantom of the parched land Visions and charms swirl like a mist under a chrome moon Conjuring sprites of the desert weave mirages of oasis and lagoons Sailing across a barren horizon are walls of crystal waves No water lilies and wild roses unfurl under  these mystic skies. ©️ Sangeetha Kamath Pic Courtesy: Pixabay 
Post a Comment
Read more

TULIP-O'-PURPLE

SANGEETHA KAMATH
                                     TULIP-O'-PURPLE The flower you sent me stands tall in a vase of porcelain The bud clammed close concealing drops of rain It holds a promise of a lavender refrain  The silken petals of webbed lilac veins The stalk a mossy green reminds me of meadows The long walks in the Alps and valleys below I conjure up woodlands and dappled  sunset glow Purple is my favourite colour you always know  The delicate bloom of sweet fragrance Reminds me of an amethyst of lustrous brilliance Swaying in the summer breeze it yearns for a dance A single Tulip in a vase takes a ballerina stance Blooming in full two days later Invites butterflies all aflutter As precious as a fairytale dream It is tinged at the tips in hues of clotted cream Purple is soon brown---a colour of wither... A hardbound diary is used to press and preserve  Along with the card and cheri...
Post a Comment
Read more