I never got married. I never was much of a "looker" anyway . Never one of those compulsive smart talking "one-liner" types either. I'm just me - age 28, plain and ordinary with a B.Com IInd Div and an acute asthma. I earn a monthly salary of Rs 10000, accounts in-charge at the State Bank of India. I don't lead an extravagant life, I can't afford to. I send home Rs 3000 every month to my parents, and keep another Rs 5000 for myself - food, house rent, electricity bills, medicine …… those everyday expenses. The remaining gets deposited in the bank - it will take the place of my children when I retire.
But, I can write. I love writing. It takes me to a different world. Away from the humdrum of this dreary, monotonous 9 to 5 existence. I create my private space where I can play God. It's my ultimate utopia, where the outside can't come trooping in and can't pass judgements. This is my world, where you don't have to look good to be in love, and rich to get married and you can still have nice children. Here, nobody gets marginalised. Everybody gets a second chance.
Yesterday, I began a new story - "Siddharth". That's the name of the lead character. He's intelligent, handsome, sensitive and thirty. You guessed it right…Siddharth has everything, but that's unlike most my male protagonists. Lets just say, he's not my type. But to continue, a funny thing happened - for once in my life I could not think of a story. No relationships, no scams, no d-days and no 'Friday the 13's'…no nothing. I could not write beyond the character. I could not think beyond the character. Every time I thought of Siddharth, I added another personality trait, but the story seemed to be heading nowhere. Is this what they called the "writer's block"?
Its been a week since I've started writing "Siddharth", and I haven't really made much progress with the storyline, that is. It's Siddharth who's been taking up my attention and energy. I don't mind it really…I'm sort of getting used to him. I think about him all the time, when I'm awake, when I'm sleeping. He seems to float in and out of my existence. What can I say, except that I have created the ideal man. He's almost flesh and blood. He's all around me, all over me. Watching me, taking care of me, loving me. He's there every morning in the kitchen while I make myself a cup of tea, he's there by me while I jostle the crowds in the fast train to Dadar, he's there in front of my desk at the office…watching, waiting, watching. I go for my evening walk and he's the omnipresent stalker. Maybe I'm falling in love with him ……in love with a man of my own creation? Am I going mad ?……
I'm convinced Siddharth is real. He asked me to marry him last evening. I said "yes". We are getting married tonight. It will be a quiet affair - no family, no friends. Just the two of us….. in our own world, in our private utopia celebrating with "pink champagne and ice"…..
Published in a daily newspaper the following day
A 28 year old woman was found dead last night in her house within the limits of the Chandanagar Police Station. The cause of the death is unknown, although the police suspect a case of drug overdose...
This copy is posted as it was received. It has not been edited by TLM.
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