She knocked on the door. And waited. She banged on it again. She kept banging it. The only response she got was in the form of thumping heart beats. She was breathing harder now, almost panting and sweating. The tension was mounting as she turned around and saw another door.
Another way out. She rushed to the new direction and banged, this time with both the fists, continuously. The doors at both the ends stared at her in silence. They could see through her, the nerves, the nervousness, they knew it all. They were aware of what was happening to her.
But they won't let her go. Wasn't there anyone on the other side of the gate.
Both the doors looked the same and acted for the same. They were shut. Nobody would know if they ever remained open. At least she doesn't remember seeing them open.
Her eyes glanced through each and every corner of the room as the silence seeped in the pallor of the walls. The squalidness of the room was overtaking her. But her vision softened when she saw something in the far corner.
A black iron rod standing in the corner of the room. It gave out a very long dark shadow. How come she did not notice it earlier. She gathered her self together and smashed it on the door. The earth seem to shake at the noise.
She waited.
Still no response.
She again banged it on the door. This time it followed a thud and a creak. Her hands went numb, the rod fell, the door still vibrated, as if recovering from the attack.
She waited.
A few wooden pieces broke off as she collapsed on the door. She crawled towards the crack from which a streak of flickering light was streaming in. A very very small hole that was good enough to accommodate one eye.
She could eye the world at least. Peeking from the door she felt the pace, the frequency, the motion of things outside. In complete silence they seemed to question the stillness of her space. Stillness of her being. The moving footsteps. There were a lot of them. They seemed to be in a hurry. For what, she wondered. Where were they all heading?
But they weren't going in the same direction. Her tiny eye could not even keep up with the pace. They burnt and ached at the sight. Did they not hear, she thought.
Her eye caught a little something in between the moving steps. It was there, right in the middle. But didn't anybody else saw it?
She did or did she imagine?
A little one with tears in his eyes, trying to look up, for help. Staring at the thousands of moving footsteps. She wondered if these footsteps had eyes, if they had arms or if they were part of the human torso like they are supposed to have.
Couldn't anyone hear him?
Did he exist, or she was seeing things.
Suddenly darkness welled up in her eyes. The footsteps seem to fade, while the little one seem to smile at her. A faint smile. She imagined, she thought.
Things went dark, black and then white and then black.
The noises from the cracks echoed in her ears, tremors went through her body and the cries reverberated there in.
A loud noise followed it all. It was deafening. The loudest thing she ever heard. The room shook with it and seem to collapse.
She smirked, as it grew louder and louder.
She waited for silence to seep in. Again.
Labels: literature, sangeen
