Modern Slaves

Grief and Lust

With a hesitant hand, I lifted the phone to my ear, uncertainty swirling in the air like an invisible mist. "Hello," I murmured softly, the word carrying the weight of my emotions.

Her voice, familiar yet distant, drifted through the line like a whisper on the wind. "How are you, Akhil?" she inquired, her words a gentle caress against my ears.

I knew the reason for her call even before she spoke, the heaviness of the truth settling over me like a suffocating blanket. It had been too long since we last spoke, and the circumstances of our reunion were anything but ordinary.

"I'm barely holding up," I confessed, my voice trembling with the weight of my sorrow. There was no use pretending with her; she had always seen through my facade, peeling back the layers of my soul with effortless precision.

"Please come here," I pleaded silently, the words hanging in the air like a desperate prayer."I'll be there in 2 days, Akhil," she promised, her voice a lifeline in the darkness.As the call ended, I felt the dam holding back my emotions crumble, tears cascading down my cheeks like a torrential downpour. Each tear was a silent confession of my pain, a testament to the depths of my despair.

In that moment of raw vulnerability, I longed for her presence, her touch a balm to soothe my shattered soul. I could almost imagine the warmth of her embrace, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air like a sweet memory.

But she was miles away, separated from me by time and distance, a beacon of hope in a sea of uncertainty. And so, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of grief, knowing that she would be there to catch me when I fell.

Two agonizing days crawled by, each moment stretching out like an eternity under the heavy weight of grief. From the terrace, I anxiously awaited her arrival, my eyes scanning the horizon in anticipation. Finally, she emerged in a White Ford, her arrival signaling a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

As she stepped out of the car, my gaze fixated on her feet first, tracing the curve of her red heels against the pavement. She was draped in a stunning red saree, a striking contrast to the somber atmosphere surrounding us. My heart skipped a beat as she waved up to me, a silent beacon of comfort in the storm.

With a gesture, I invited her to join me on the terrace, overcome with a mix of emotions at her presence. As she ascended the steps, I couldn't help but marvel at her grace, her elegance a stark reminder of life's beauty in the face of tragedy.

Her hug was a lifeline, offering solace in the midst of my pain as she extended her condolences. Chechi's arrival brought a brief moment of distraction, her concern for our well-being evident in her gentle inquiries.

Assuring Chechi that we were managing, Meera turned her attention to me, her eyes filled with empathy as she asked about my brother. With a heavy heart, I shared what little I knew, each word a painful reminder of the void his absence had left in my life.

Then, Hari emerged, a complex mix of emotions evident on his face. I knew all too well about his unrequited feelings for Meera and his past resentment towards me during our relationship. Hari was always prone to jealousy, particularly when it came to matters of the heart, but despite his flaws, he was still my brother, and I couldn't bring myself to harbor any ill will towards him.He approached us, eager to engage with Meera, and extended a hug that felt forced and awkward in the tense atmosphere. Meera reciprocated with a polite handshake, her discomfort palpable. Hari launched into a barrage of questions about her life, his curiosity bordering on intrusive.

I felt a surge of frustration, desperate for a moment of privacy with Meera away from Hari's prying eyes. Despite our complicated history, I couldn't bear to see my brother humiliate himself in front of her, his longing so transparent it was painful to witness.

As Hari continued to monopolize the conversation with Meera, my patience wore thin. Despite my attempts to interject and request a moment of privacy, he ignored my pleas, his focus solely on Meera. Her gaze flickered between us, perhaps sensing the tension that simmered beneath the surface.

Unable to contain my frustration any longer, I finally snapped, the words tumbling from my lips with a ferocity that surprised even me. "Get the fuck out of here, Hari," I spat, my voice laced with anger and frustration. It was a blunt and abrupt demand, but one that was born out of a desperate need to reclaim some semblance of control over the situation.

As Hari left without uttering another word, Meera turned her gaze towards me, her expression a mixture of concern and reproach. "Still can't control your anger," she remarked, her voice tinged with disappointment.

I remained silent in response, opting instead to light a cigarette, the flame casting flickering shadows across my face. Meera's disapproving gaze lingered on the cigarette between my fingers, her words carrying a hint of frustration. "And you still haven't quit this shit," she observed, her tone laced with resignation.

With a nonchalant shrug, I took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. "Oh, well," I muttered, my voice betraying a sense of indifference. It was a feeble attempt to deflect her criticism, a silent admission of my inability to break free from the grip of my addiction.

"I have to go today itself," she announced suddenly, her words cutting through the tense silence that hung between us.

"Why?" I demanded, a surge of panic rising within me at the thought of her leaving so soon.She remained silent, her eyes avoiding mine as she shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. In a desperate attempt to keep her from leaving, I reached out and grabbed her hand, but she pulled away sharply.

"Don't you have even a little love for me now?" I pleaded, my voice betraying the raw ache of longing in my heart.

Her response was a whisper, barely audible above the pounding of my own heartbeat. "I never loved anyone the way I loved you," she confessed, her voice trembling with emotion.Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to hold her one last time, I leaned in and kissed her, my lips meeting hers in a desperate, passionate embrace. But instead of reciprocating, she pushed me away with surprising force, her hand connecting with my cheek in a stinging slap.