Nervously, she twiddled her thumbs and paced around the house
like a caged lioness, growing restless by the minute. Her thoughts were
disarrayed. Even the balcony had been searched, so where had the elusive folder
vanished? She racked her brains for the answer as she waited impatiently for
the Doctor to wake up. Then sheepishly she realized that she couldn’t search
his room, as it would mean that she suspected him of stealing it or equally
worse, it could imply that she had visited the room in his absence! It was a
Catch-22 situation!
She
decided that she would search for it after he left for the clinic. John was going
to come to the clinic only at 4 p.m. so she would be going there at around 3.30
p.m. to wait along with the Doctor for his arrival. The Doctor had suggested
the previous night that she come slightly early to the clinic, than John.
However was there any harm in casually inquiring about her folder? she thought
and so when he came into the living room to have his breakfast at the coffee
table, she asked him evenly, trying hard to keep away the anxiety in her voice,
“Benny, have you by any chance seen my folder containing the novel, as I am
unable to find it? In fact, I have searched through all the possible places where
I could have kept it, but haven’t been successful in locating it. I’m very, very
worried. She was on the verge of tears.
Calmly,
slyly, the Doctor said, with a very straight face, “Oh that folder!”
Her
hopes raised, she looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear that he had seen
it and kept it safely somewhere. Nothing could have prepared her for his next
words.
“Martha, please listen to me carefully and calmly. Promise me that
you’ll hear me out and then speak!”
Intrigued, she agreed. Tersely, she said, “Yes.”
The
Doctor looked at her squarely, his small black eyes glinting maliciously as he
slowly, very slowly said, “I burnt it.”
Not
believing her ears, she said incredulously, “I beg your pardon?”
He
repeated confidently, “You heard it right Martha, I burnt it. I have destroyed
your demons forever. You’ll never be plagued or haunted by the ghosts in that
damned novel of yours!”
Instantaneously,
Martha pounced on him and held his throat, uncaring about her gown that had
come apart at the front, or the fact that she was nearly astride him in an
awkward position; on the couch near the coffee-table. Her eyes darted fire as
she venomously shrieked, “You devil, how dare you do that? You scumbag! You
knew that I had slogged on it for a whole year and yet destroyed it perversely.
You knew that I had intended to send it for typing and that I didn’t have any
copy of it; didn’t you? You mean, wretched fellow! You’ll rot in hell for your
misdeed. Just wait and watch!”
Her
hysteria kept rising as she shrieked, raved and ranted, tears streaming down
her smooth and beautiful cheeks. As the Doctor quietly, guiltily, cowered under
her attack, she went berserk on a murderous rampage in that immaculate
apartment. She broke all the lights, lamps, vases and collectibles, smashing
them to smithereens. Then she took a table-knife and tore all the expensive
canvases of original paintings. Next, she pulled down all the freshly laundered
and ironed curtains from their rods and tore them to shreds.
She
broke all the china-ware and sprayed sauce and syrup on all the imported rugs.
She took the flower pots that she had recently bought and hurled them through
the balcony on to the space in front of the building, damaging the Doctor’s
expensive Audi car in the bargain as well as quite a few of the other vehicles
parked there. Lastly, in a fit of blinding and uncontrollable rage, she plunged
that knife through the Doctor’s chest. He shrieked with unbearable pain, begging her for mercy. Not satisfied, she plunged it again and
again through his body, till he lay limply on the smudged, carpet on the
living-room, lifeless and bloodied.
Then
she slashed her wrists till pools of blood streamed from the wounds, slid down
and mingled with those of the Doctor’s. She fainted and was relieved from
further agony. By then, the security guards were knocking frantically on the
door of the apartment. Not getting a response, they broke open the door and
were shocked to see that gory scene of death and destruction. It was a scene
straight from a crime-movie; nauseating and blood-curdling. The pesky next-door
neighbor, who was peeping from behind the security guards, was repulsed and had
to rush back into her apartment to vomit. She’d never forget that horrible
scene of murder and attempted suicide, throughout her life.
The guards rang up the
nearest police station. Policemen arrived immediately and took charge. The doctor’s
body was sent for postmortem. Martha was taken to a hospital for treatment. If
she would survive her suicide attempt, they would charge her on counts of
murder, attempted suicide and vandalism.
To be continued....
The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.
To be continued....
The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.
