Continued from Glory In Making...
I hope Artz does not mind my stealing a para from her work, Just to keep the continuity. :)
Glory does not last long. Dreams shatter and we get hit hard on the face. Kriti was a good girl but it was difficult when the old lady passed away. Her distant relatives threw Kriti to square one. Abondoned her and there she lay again where she was before. All this happened years back. There was a difference this time. Kriti was stronger.
Her cell phone rang.
"Hi I am Ajay, i wanted to meet you today"
"I'll pick you up from Chandni Chowk near Babu's sweet shop, that's ok right?"
"On the way to your home can we stop at the lake near Keshav colony, I need five minutes"
"Yes , I have heard about your ritual, no problem as I hear that makes you even better"
She cut the phone. And started getting ready for the discourse.
It was routine now, the dress, the makeup , the drill. She looked at the mirror. It was ok now she would forget the rest.
"The wind started to blow and the dark clouds made way for the moon to appear. She raised her head to see the moon beaming and smiling at her. She remained perplexed for the next few minutes, unsure of what these signals meant."
"Hurry up will you"- Ajay called from inside the car.
She got ready for the drill. She had to kill her soul again. The needle was her friend. In the misty moonlight cocaine shot up through her veins like frenzy. She jerked to keep standing and took two deep breaths. She took one last look at the moon, was it smiling in sarcasm? she gave a fuck! Her face stern now and then the everlasting smile of the moon found her face. So reachable yet never even close to reality, the mystics of the moon and now Kriti herself. Seen and loved by all but seldom ever touched. Kriti turned still hazy and walked towards the car. Her hair shining in the moonlit night.