The Recluse

Naveen kept looking at the balcony waiting for Roma to make an appearance on the balcony. He had been waiting for a single glance of her for days now, seating in the road-side chai stall sipping tea. He kept on looking up at the balcony, with the flowering pots with wilted flowers, and the half hidden, moth eaten doll strewn from a heap of old cothes dump. He was talking to balwant, the proprieteer of the shop while stirring the cup, to make the tea cooler, in a periodic movement of his hands. He remembered how happy he was the day when the magazine, he worked for, asked him to pen an article on Roma, the beauty of yesteryears. Naveen was ecstatic at the thought of interviewing his childhood fantasy, the lady whose saree clad picture had been under his pillow for long, the beauty, whose twinkling eyes, laschivious smile and a heavenly gait had made his nights passable and days happy. He looked forward for the divinity to speak to him, but he was not prepared for this, speaking to balwant, sipping the cold tea and waiting for that one glance.

Roma's secretary, also her supposed lover, had emphatically rejected his proposal for an interview; Roma, it seems, never saw anyone, never talked to any individual, she had hidden herself from the public which was willing to give their arm for that one smile. No one had an inkling of why she did that, why she left the lime light to hide behind those heavy curtains.She could have got the world if she wanted, she just had to ask, but still she chose to just vanish away. She must be 44 now, she must have grown a bit fat, her lips may not be as pink as they were, her hair may have lost the rich texture and those shapely figure may not be as etheral as it was before, but 29 was not an age for a diva to retire, even at 44 she must be pretty, Naveen mused.

All his efforts for an photo, leave aside the interview had been futile. He had done everything humanely possible to coax the secretary to grant an interview, save maybe point the gun at him, but to no avail. Roma, never left the house, never rested on the balcony, never roamed in the vast garden, never swam in the vast pool, so how was he supposed to click a snap. He thought of forcing an entry at night but the images of being an late night dinner for the huge mastiff came as a deterrant.. Rightly so, Being a messiah who brought back beauty to the world was one thing, sacrificing oneself at the alter of Page3 journalism another. His vigils at the balwant's shop had brought no results save one, he had become a friend of the nearby plumber who was sometimes called to Roma's sprawling bungalow.. and Naveen waited for one such call.

He dreamt of winning the pulitzer for the story, dreamt of standing next to the stunning Roma.. dreamt of Roma's lips on his, Why not he reflected.. Roma may not have seen a male, save the bald secretary and he may be the best option for her. His day dreams remained incomplete with the sounds of pawan, the plumber running towards him with a 100 watt smile. Naveen knew the reason why, with a pounding heart and an anxious mind he made way for the bunglow hoping he doesnt see that rude secretary. He was shown the bathroom by a old butler, There was no sign of the lady, not another soul could be seen in that bunglow, no voices were heard, the silence was broken periodically by the clocks ticking in some part of the room and the water dripping from the broken tap. Naveen sleathly climbed the stairs, with the camera in one hand and his shoes in the other.

He saw a wonderful looking huge room with chandaliers lighted, the candles lit everywhere, and the room smelling of some french perfume, maybe in preparation of some grand ball. A smile lit on his face.. in addition to Roma, he may see someone equally grand. There were pictures adorned on every wall.. huge potraits of Roma. She was looking so beautiful with the trademark locks of hairs falling on her face, she wearing a saree in one, a dress in another. Naveen was lost on seeing those snaps, beauty has an intoxicating power, a beautiful face makes one more still than copious amounts of grass. He picked a picture .. kept looking at Roma, who looked the enchantress in that particular picture,her hairs were left open for the picture and they fell behind her back seeming like an ocean of flowing black hair.. the eyes were hiding some twinkling mischief, those lips were a picture of interwined gloom and grace and she looked so lovely in those long skirts and loose blouse.

Naveen just kept looking. The door adjacant to him opened suddenly and there was someone dragging onself across the floor, the dead foot lying so dead behind her. He had dropped the picture he was carrying and he kept looking at the face on the floor, if you call it a face. It had no trace of the lovely eyes, just two sockets with the eyes deep within, the luscious lips that were the fantasy of millions were looking sickening and there were protrusions all over her face. The voice which had men whine in their dreams was reduced to a whimper and she kept mewling some obscure paraphrases. Naveen shuddered at the diva at whose feet millioneres used to fall, lying so pitiably at his feet. He picked up the camera and clicked, the flash lighting the leper's face for a second. She was dragging herself across the hall, oblivious of anyone's presence. Naveen kept looking while she went to the nearby desk, took up a framed photograph and kept on fondling the same.

Naveen clicked another picture. He could see the pulitzer in his hand. He kept on clicking, Roma suddenly broke down... there were no tears just the silent whimper. She was touching her face, her hair her skin... She turned around with the lifeless leg dragged around like an appendage. She touched her lips and fell on her back crying aloud a voiceless sob. Naveen went on to her and kissed those non existant lips.. maybe trying to make her remember of the waman that she actually was. He kissed her on the forehead, his tears drenching the lady's face. The face had no reaction.. She just lay there with the beautiful Roma of the past lying on her bosoms. Naveen took those reels out of the camera, threw them at the fire and walked away.

There was a notice in the 5th page in an obscure column of the paper, the next day.
Naveen Chaubey has been terminated from the newspaper services and any legal dealings with him are no longer hold valid.