Aesthetic of chapter:
लेना देना ना है जहां से
परवा हा करनी है तेरी
ये पागलपन है या है दीवानापन???
( It has nothing to do with the world
have to care about you
is this madness or is it insanity???)
Prologue
Her life was a mountain - a boulder - an altitude which was covered with layers of the ice- the snow - the white sheet. She never realised the reason behind the ice- the cold- the snow. She kept trecking endlessly with the support of her poles in aspiration of reaching highest spot but her life was a facade - a myth - a lie. The highest heel may appear near on base but as you climb up the distance keep increasing, the difficulty keep escalating, and you keep panting. That's how her life is!
Mystery.
Lie.
hate.
Who is her ice?
Who is her layer?
Who is her poles?
That's all hole in whole story!
14- 03- 25
17:53
The day is vibrant with colours and laughter as the wind blowing curiously to uncertain pack oh humans damped in rainbow colours. The dark navy blue sky dispersing into green under the influence of the happiness - the joy- the people. The crimson red late sun rays resembling the involvement of nature in festival of colours along with its creature.
Pink.
Red.
Blue.
The bright colour which are the proud mask of people in this mascarade festival of colour are swinging their body under the effect of loud muffled pop beats filling the air with music and smiles. The people endlessly savouring the taste of the cream liquid in the liquid ~glass~ intoxicating their each element of body with a message. It spreading among the people of the land, a kind and soulful message of
Inclusivity.
Forgiveness.
Embracing.
As the nature proclaims if there is celebration: somewhere is destruction, if there is light: somewhere is darkness, if there is human: somewhere is demon.
That is being proved in his presence - in his glance - in his cruelity.
Vengeance.
Exasperation.
Outrage.
Settling without humour in the emrald eyes of a shadow of a man - a male - a demon emerging from the clouds of the colour. The dust of district colours in air is quite contrast -quite hypocrite - quite opposite to the salty wounds on his well built structure which is soaked in red traces and the culprits is not rang- abir - gulal but red sharp blood of his own skin. The facial muscle is controlled in his fuming and showing the world a face which is,
Plain.
stoic.
cold.
His green eyes are dry as sea as dark as sun ray as fade as rainbow. The masculine cologne of his body mixing with the fresh smell of colours hitting the nostrils of decapitated tree arranged in the side alley of roads parallel to his direction of foots. The raw foot which is as bare as newly born and blisters overshadowing the skin with its futile kindness. The rough black damp road is burning coal to his skin as he is dragging and dragging something and someone railing lifelessly behind him. The on duty taut muscles of his naked abdominal torso expanding upward with his each heavy breath with his each step with his each ounce of energy as he deadly pulling a thick brass chain whose anchor is attached to his own body. The piercing hook engraving the unholy tissues of his back frame as each of the three hook tearing the tanned skin of his flushed back sending a stutter to the heart of a passerby developing a sense of fear in each cell of their body. The three hook, three spots, three anchor and endless trails of reddish - marron blood along with shedded sweat. The blood starting its journey from spots of pierced hook expanding parallel to his spine and ending on the ground leaving a remainder of cruelity to all. Each cells of the body restraining help from evaporated air, absorbed sun ray and white rainbow.
Dreadful.
Painful.
Horrifying.
All the words are abstract in comparison to his severity towards her. He is merciless - ruthless - pitiless to her. A hell is luxurious to her than his wrath as he dragging the other end of the brass chain attached to neck of figure resembling- a female - a woman- a lady. The series of chains binding her upper limbs like a lethal captive contrasting over her thin fragile body which incorporating beautiful flower in the garden of world unfortunately fallen in wrong branch. A visionary blur in her eyes no hope of freedom in her imagination, the tears tired of rolling down therefore dried on her cheeks right below her heavy lidded red eyes tired enough to ask help, her brows tired enough to contemplate any thoughts.
Senseless.
Pointless.
Helpless.
The air sliding through her wavy black strands is senseless. The sun rays trying to remove her darkness is pointless. Even the rainbow is helpless to fill colour in her life on the occasion of Holi.
What is happening?
Who is she?
Why is she being dragged?
जानने के लिए आगे पढ़े ।
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