the charons 3

the charons

Sharmishtha Basu is an unemployed artist, writer who is out to test her works, see if they can help her to build an “unorthodox” career, a path followed by many before, some has been blessed with success, most have not, let us see what you make of her attempts! A failure or success- it all depends on you. These are pieces from her book, the book is available on createspace and amazon-
This is a chapter from my own life, the reason why I cant go out and look for a job like you guys do and live a normal life, because the monsters of this book hovered around me for too long, to ensure that my life gets screwed up as much as possible, they succeeded in material sense, that is a credit I will give them without least hesitation. Read it with an open mind and if you are Indian, woman better believe it. I have done my duty, believing truth or not is your choice.

The charons

Why I don’t know but I felt that her way of speaking had some evil undertone and it reminded me of an incident. I have taken up swimming course in a local club, Anita of-course used to accompany me. She used to sit outside while I went to change in a dilapidated changing room.

One day she told me that some men were lurking there while she was sitting there alone I was not alarmed because there were staffs of that club always roaming around. One raised voice will bring half a dozen of them there. But I thought back then that she was a chicken-livered girl so I asked her to wait on the steps while I changed inside. There was nothing to fear because the room was pitch-dark, so there were no chances of her seeing anything inside the room unless of course she was a vampire or owl.

“Didi I think someone was taking our photographs.” She said one day. I did not paid any attention to her words. A few days later I stopped going there because the temperature has dipped and it was no longer possible for a warm-blooded creature to take swimming lessons.

Sulata’s words all of a sudden brought that memory back to me and whatever sleep was creeping in my eyes disappeared because I already had a deep suspicion that she sometimes stalked me out in the street.

She always wore a helmet while stalking but one day, if it was she after all, her hair gave her away. She had a gorgeous head of hair, more than knee length, and extremely voluptuous. I noted that the woman also had same head of hair.


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