A girl, a gun and a friend who pulled the trigger. (Monster review)
The girl
Loving someone can be a virtue. Loving someone too much can be a crime. Love usually transcends age, religion, caste, colour and in this case, sex. But where does one go once you’ve crossed the line with your beloved? You simply draw new ones. Etched so firmly in the ground that you fail to see them yourself. So you draw them again just to be sure. More like concentric circles, they pull you closer and closer to your beloved, but at the same time, leaving her little space to shuffle her feet.
Then every morning, you revisit the lines, like a devoted gardener, making sure the plants are doing fine. “There! That one’s cracking up.” Just a little touch-up and it’s ready to scream at trespassers again. But slowly, the weeds start growing alongside the roses. The weeds are unwanted, so are the trespassers. And since both learn little from their uprooted predecessors, fingers wrapped around metal are kept busy.
The friend
Money bought her a pitcher of conversation. Many refills later, it bought her a friend. One night later, it bought her love. But can the need to exchange words be misinterpreted as the need to exchange vows? Can a finger, after stroking her cheek just once, decide to hold her hand forever? She confused friendship with love. Some of us confuse love with friendship. So which is more confusing?
If you share the bed after sharing a joke, and repent it, you haven’t lost much. Revisiting the crackling laughter can silence the previous night’s moans. But if you can't share a joke after sharing the bed first, you didn’t have anything to begin with that you could have lost later.
The trigger
She killed him to keep her promise. She killed the rest to keep her friend alive. Did she refuse to sell her body because she’d had enough? Or because she wanted to reserve this privilege for someone special? Knowing what would make her friend happy was more important than what it cost. So she kept paying.
When does love stop being possessive and become protective? When does a kiss on the lips get replaced with a kiss on the forehead? When does love become maternal?
You can buy her flowers but can you save them from withering? You can buy her clothes but can you stop them from fading? You can love her all night but can you fight the dawn? You can talk to her forever but can you listen?
She could and she did.
Loving someone can be a virtue. Loving someone too much can be a crime. Love usually transcends age, religion, caste, colour and in this case, sex. But where does one go once you’ve crossed the line with your beloved? You simply draw new ones. Etched so firmly in the ground that you fail to see them yourself. So you draw them again just to be sure. More like concentric circles, they pull you closer and closer to your beloved, but at the same time, leaving her little space to shuffle her feet.
Then every morning, you revisit the lines, like a devoted gardener, making sure the plants are doing fine. “There! That one’s cracking up.” Just a little touch-up and it’s ready to scream at trespassers again. But slowly, the weeds start growing alongside the roses. The weeds are unwanted, so are the trespassers. And since both learn little from their uprooted predecessors, fingers wrapped around metal are kept busy.
The friend
Money bought her a pitcher of conversation. Many refills later, it bought her a friend. One night later, it bought her love. But can the need to exchange words be misinterpreted as the need to exchange vows? Can a finger, after stroking her cheek just once, decide to hold her hand forever? She confused friendship with love. Some of us confuse love with friendship. So which is more confusing?
If you share the bed after sharing a joke, and repent it, you haven’t lost much. Revisiting the crackling laughter can silence the previous night’s moans. But if you can't share a joke after sharing the bed first, you didn’t have anything to begin with that you could have lost later.
The trigger
She killed him to keep her promise. She killed the rest to keep her friend alive. Did she refuse to sell her body because she’d had enough? Or because she wanted to reserve this privilege for someone special? Knowing what would make her friend happy was more important than what it cost. So she kept paying.
When does love stop being possessive and become protective? When does a kiss on the lips get replaced with a kiss on the forehead? When does love become maternal?
You can buy her flowers but can you save them from withering? You can buy her clothes but can you stop them from fading? You can love her all night but can you fight the dawn? You can talk to her forever but can you listen?
She could and she did.
posted by Rishabh at 10:20 PM
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