A bit more salt.
And a dash of pepper.
Perfect.
I smiled in satisfaction. Mother reached up from behind me, and kissed me lightly on the cheeks. Father tasted my ‘kurma’ and looked at me in mock contempt.
“Cooking, my son, is for females.”
Do I look like I care? Nope.
“No field should be restricted to just one gender alone.” I said, smirking.
“He is cooking for someone special today.”, my mother said, playfully ruffling my hair.
“Really? A girl? I thought you might go for ‘sanyas’.”, he added, smiling.
“A woman. And no, I am not interested in penance.”
Hearing that, dad whispered lewd things in my ear which set us both guffawing on the floor.
Damayanthi. The one I was cooking for, was no ordinary woman. When Hamsam managed to pacify my bereft heart, intriguing me of her beauty and grace, I was interested.
But I never expected much. After all, how beautiful can a damsel be, so beautiful that she manages to capture a man’s heart at first sight?
I was in for a surprise. One look at her, and my body went stark crazy. My heart ran a race, sweat dripped down my forehead and I was concerned about my looks.
She was no ordinary woman. She was... What were those women called at Devalok?
‘Apsara’.
And then and there, I was taken.
So you can’t blame me if I try and cook something delicious for her, right?
.
.
.
Lost.
Everything was lost.
My looks. My kingdom. My wife.
I abandoned her in the forest.
What type of a man does that make me? My virtue. The one that was appreciated even in Devalok. Where had it gone now?
I thought she would be safe if I left her alone.
I prayed to the God’s to keep her safe. Please don’t make her suffer. Please give her strength.
Please deliver me from my sins.
Oh God, How will I ever get her back?
I have changed beyond recognition.
Even Mother doesn’t recognize me now.
Bahukan. That’s who I am now.
May the Gods be merciful.
.
.
.
A bit more salt.
And a dash of pepper.
Perfect.
I smiled in satisfaction. My actions were muddled, all thanks to Kali, living inside me now. Our conversations were minimal. He tries his best to agitate me, and I agitate him with my silence.
Today’s cooking was for her. My love. My wife.
Cooked by an ugly dwarf. Prepared in love.
My curse never affected my love towards her. Thank heavens.
I still intend to strangle Kali though.
I hope she likes it.
.
.
.
I served the ‘kurma’ and took a deep breath. Waited.
With utmost grace, she began to dip the ‘naan’ into my dish.
Tear. Dip. Eat. Tear. Dip. Eat.
And then she froze.
Her eyes filled up.
I panicked.
Salt? Check.
Spice? She loves it.
Consistency? I thought it was perfect.
Then what the hell went wrong?
She slowly raised her grief stricken visage to face me. Got up.
Walked towards me.
And just like how a mother would hold a new born baby, she cradled my face, looked deep into my eyes, as if searching for answers to my soul’s dilemma, and asked:
“Nala? Is it you?”
I died a thousand deaths then.
And death was good.
And a dash of pepper.
Perfect.
I smiled in satisfaction. Mother reached up from behind me, and kissed me lightly on the cheeks. Father tasted my ‘kurma’ and looked at me in mock contempt.
“Cooking, my son, is for females.”
Do I look like I care? Nope.
“No field should be restricted to just one gender alone.” I said, smirking.
“He is cooking for someone special today.”, my mother said, playfully ruffling my hair.
“Really? A girl? I thought you might go for ‘sanyas’.”, he added, smiling.
“A woman. And no, I am not interested in penance.”
Hearing that, dad whispered lewd things in my ear which set us both guffawing on the floor.
Damayanthi. The one I was cooking for, was no ordinary woman. When Hamsam managed to pacify my bereft heart, intriguing me of her beauty and grace, I was interested.
But I never expected much. After all, how beautiful can a damsel be, so beautiful that she manages to capture a man’s heart at first sight?
I was in for a surprise. One look at her, and my body went stark crazy. My heart ran a race, sweat dripped down my forehead and I was concerned about my looks.
She was no ordinary woman. She was... What were those women called at Devalok?
‘Apsara’.
And then and there, I was taken.
So you can’t blame me if I try and cook something delicious for her, right?
.
.
.
Lost.
Everything was lost.
My looks. My kingdom. My wife.
I abandoned her in the forest.
What type of a man does that make me? My virtue. The one that was appreciated even in Devalok. Where had it gone now?
I thought she would be safe if I left her alone.
I prayed to the God’s to keep her safe. Please don’t make her suffer. Please give her strength.
Please deliver me from my sins.
Oh God, How will I ever get her back?
I have changed beyond recognition.
Even Mother doesn’t recognize me now.
Bahukan. That’s who I am now.
May the Gods be merciful.
.
.
.
A bit more salt.
And a dash of pepper.
Perfect.
I smiled in satisfaction. My actions were muddled, all thanks to Kali, living inside me now. Our conversations were minimal. He tries his best to agitate me, and I agitate him with my silence.
Today’s cooking was for her. My love. My wife.
Cooked by an ugly dwarf. Prepared in love.
My curse never affected my love towards her. Thank heavens.
I still intend to strangle Kali though.
I hope she likes it.
.
.
.
I served the ‘kurma’ and took a deep breath. Waited.
With utmost grace, she began to dip the ‘naan’ into my dish.
Tear. Dip. Eat. Tear. Dip. Eat.
And then she froze.
Her eyes filled up.
I panicked.
Salt? Check.
Spice? She loves it.
Consistency? I thought it was perfect.
Then what the hell went wrong?
She slowly raised her grief stricken visage to face me. Got up.
Walked towards me.
And just like how a mother would hold a new born baby, she cradled my face, looked deep into my eyes, as if searching for answers to my soul’s dilemma, and asked:
“Nala? Is it you?”
I died a thousand deaths then.
And death was good.
.
-The Violet Woman
Lilliput #3
.
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