InderVeer

Chapter Two: Inder

The bed is crumpled; there is an eerie to the air. The softness is camouflaged by the rough day that is waiting for Inder to breathe. The sullen eyes living the dreams of his desires are awake. They are wandering, searching for meaning we all human struggle to find. He is twisting, turning, crumbling his bone, yawning and dancing on the thoughts none particular.

Savitri is on the bed above. She is awake but silent as the snaky night on this cold winter day. She doesn't want to move a muscle again this morning. She feels she is tired, and she wants to take a day off from patriarchal dance rituals.

Inder is used to these silent treatments. Unaware, but he is a demanding person. The marks of misogyny have shadowed him and made him learn men's wrongs as their rights.

Minutes pass by, but he is unwilling. He feels about cheating a day and sulk for replies he thought he will be given in mere days. He is angry and thoughtful. Maybe he will see him today too at the stand, but he can't stand the ignorance.

Maybe after lunch is good enough to start a day? But he also can't miss the crowded passengers at the market lane. Stuck between livelihood and life, he bangs the floor with the fist. Aggression is not a good start, but as if it has been normalized-males to be irritated and irked at every way of the world.

He has something else on his mind too. He wants to wander around those moments of ecstasy. As if foresighted, he rushes for the bathroom and locks himself behind. He is hard as a rock that clangs against the angry sea. He doesn't have to think about many moments that were passed with him. He visits the softest of them—the time of touches and brushing of bodies and lips.

He is swift with the stokes and in a hurry to finish as if at the end of everything, he will be acknowledged and will be returned the lust he has for Veer