Sunday, May 11, 2008

Folly wise - I

She really ought to do something about her weight. Even the mild uphill walk through this neglected patch of wayward growth was causing her to gasp for lung-fulls of fresh air. The dry leaves groaned their last painful cries, as her heavy boots crushed them into merciless bits. She ought to have laid off the cheese. The lunch at the newly opened Bars and Blues had been delicious. The company she was with had been rather boring. The ring of her cell- phone summoning her to this neverland had , as a consequence, been welcomed. She panted harder, as she tried to stay in step with the two deputies forging ahead of her along an unseen path.

The sun had beaten even the remotest green out of the landscape. Naked trees stood like brown slaves tormented by the cloudless skies. Every footstep crunched with a loud crackle. If somebody’s half-lit cigarette bud didn’t send this entire area blazing, then the sun definitely would. The sooner she was out of here, the better. She almost collided with the deputy in front of her, as he came to an abrupt halt. Destination arrived. She took in a couple of deep breaths. The first one to regularize her hard breathing and the second one to mentally prepare herself for the nightmare she was about to witness.

But nothing could have prepared her for the sight which greeted her. Lying on a thorny bed of dried twigs, almost looking peacefully asleep was the late super star Mira De. Even in death, she was beautiful.

After hours of briefing and de-briefing, mindless enquiries and then some interesting ones, of thousands of trips to the forensic labs and millions of reads of the autopsy reports, Harinakshi found herself spread on the singularly unappealing white bed of the local Spa. Harinakshi or Harni as people were wont to call her, was a criminal profiler with CBI. One of her tasks was to certify, if the death was a homicide or a suicide. Like the death of the beautiful Mira De. And like on a lot of occasions before, she found that her thoughts were at a cumulative best, when her senses were being beaten into a decided numbness by her masseur; hence her current position.

As she stuck her face into the hole on the bed and stared at the old white marble flooring, her thoughts rushed into her head. The first thought devoted to the speck of gray which stained the flooring and had escaped the evening cleaning rounds. The next series of thought took her back to the apartment of Mira De.

She had driven down there. Her apartment, as expected, was located in the rich areas of Region Park. As she waited at the red light, a minute away from the apartment, she noticed two billboards. One showed Mira De staring at all the people on the road with a very pained expression in her eyes, willing them into tears perhaps. In a very rickety font with strings attached to it, the billboard announced the name of the movie, in which she was to play the lead role – Kathputali (Puppet). If she remembered correctly, the movie was at least five years old. One of Mira De’s earlier films. She had even bagged an award or two for it.

Right below the movie was another billboard, announcing yet another movie again by Mira De – Khwaish (Wish). From her minuscule clothes, to her very inviting pout, it was very evident what she wanted the viewer to wish for her. Looking at the billboard could give one of the weaker men a very climatic experience. It was a six month old movie. Reviewers had called her hot and sexy and the new sex goddess of the Indian Film Industry. Women around the country had called her slut.

She sat there looking at the two billboards, one aged with time, faded and hardly noticeable; the other shining with the glamour of new gloss. Two women, one you were bound to sympathize with, the other who would tempt you into evil thoughts. Yet the two women were one.

She never quite understood why she came for massages. They were filled with pain. The masseur’s fingers dug into her body and they hurt. It did not feel good. The music was unidentifiable, though the Spa claimed it was Swedish. The towels rewashed and reused and not certifiably clean. She winced at the floor as the masseur dug into her flesh once again.

15 comments:

Cinderella. said...

I aint satiated with this. rather I'm tearing my hair apart, with the sudden ending just when it shold have gone on straight ahead without break !!!

So I wont comment now. waiting for the next part.

Bring it sooner...!!!! Pleeeeeeese !!!!!

me in love said...

cant wait for next part.............

Crimson Feet said...

!!...
:)

death mystery!?... suspense woven with philosophical musings?... i like it... looking forward to the next dose!

Pollyannaish said...

waitin hun... :)

Runa said...

sexy read...me eager too :)

marvin the paranoid android said...

waiting list grows by one more...

AshenGlow said...

a whodunnit.. im eager... like everyone else on the list.. :)

Beauty and the BEast said...

@ cinderella

coming up soon ;)

Its just that I have embarked on this story, but it refuses to stay short :(

Beauty and the BEast said...

@ me in love

is right there in my head..

have to just type it out!!

Beauty and the BEast said...

@ crimson feet

Damn! I do wish I live up to all those expectations!

Beauty and the BEast said...

@ pollyannaish

Cant afford to disappoint you!!

Beauty and the BEast said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Beauty and the BEast said...

@ runa

thanks!! will be writing more soon

Beauty and the BEast said...

@ marvin

I did give you an idea about this :P

Beauty and the BEast said...

@ ashen glow

promise the wait wont be long