Red Blue Gray: Day 7

The cell is haunted I think. At certain nights someone kept on repeating a chant. And this happened when the moon is new. In the darkness the cell seems to be come to alive. There is one who roams around the cell. My mind says it was the breathing of the old cat getting mixing with the chirping of crickets and the bugs; this get the scary portion for the silence of the night. My soul, on other hand, said the tortured souls of the revolutionaries, my comrades from the party, live in this cell, among this brick, among this moss grown darkness. On new moon nights they somehow gain the access to this cell and these bricks whisper their pain, their agony, their unfulfilled desires. The whisper didn’t let me sleep; didn’t let me read; didn’t let me write.

Is this is the age or is this something? I am running low on energy. It seems someone is just sucking out my energy. And this cat seems to be an omen. Most of the time, he keeps on looking at me—facing his missing-eye side to me. That small void is all I worried of now. In first few days it was nothing to me just a bad luck for a cat. Now it’s worry me or is it scare me. I am not a coward or get scared easily; but, now I am scare.

The days are becoming shorter. The winter is here. The cell at end of the night turns cold making it hard to be sleep. The weakened bone aches at the joints. A doctor visited me this morning. He enters the chamber and then ran out throwing out. He couldn’t stand the smell of the chamber which smelled of urine and rotten foods. First few days it was also impossible for me to live here. I had requested them, but, they never listened to me. But they kept me gagged until I gave up. I was brought here at the deep of a new moon night. I find a signboard saying the floor is dangerous from being old, so, no one is allowed here. The doctor then tied a big kerchief on his nose and checked on me. All this while, the cat was not here; he went out of the cell at the early morning and return early evening. The doctor consulted to take proper rest, to sleep at night. Regarding the foods he said he would have a word with the higher authority. I have a doubt once long ago. Now it reincarnate after the doctor left. They are poisoning me, in small portion they are passing on poison into my food. It might be like of Napoleon, who was killed by making him consume arsenic through his food. It is though a rumour because no one was sure on Napoleon being poisoned. To-night is a full moon. I should turn off the lamp because the moon shines on… (Cont’d)

By Sangbad

A poet, an author, a reviewer--in one word I'm a literaturist (means one who is trying almost everything that Literature is made of). My books are available at Amazon. I'm a Bengali, born and raised in Kolkata, West Bengal.

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