Thank you Cucumber

It was extremely soft and delicate, when I made my ‘Jadgkommando Tri-dagger’ to dissolve like an ice by slitting, the throat of “Dr. Psycho”. I then, took my dagger, from the doctor’s half-opened neck, which was wept in blood and I would always love to call my dagger as ‘Little Hitler’. I opened the door to the entrance of the lift, descended to the ground floor of the ‘Lavanya Apartment’ and kicked off my ‘Royal Enfield Thunder Bird 500X’. There was neither sound nor decorative lights. But, only a grave silence, except the terrific sound of my bike. I was completely drenched by the forty-five minutes of incessant rain when I reached my home, which is a decade of streets away from the lavanya apartment. The home that I had been living was a modern hut. Otherwise, a puny shell. I unlocked the door and the insides of my home was pitch-black always even in the morning. Because, I felt that the electric current would burn my home if I have the electricity. So, I removed the connection of the electric circuits. There is no kitchen, no rest room, no windows, no television as if it looks like a heart with empty soul. It was a minimalistic home with one bed, one table and one door. I placed by black-coat upon the corner of the table, lay prostrate upon my bed. Probably a simple one covered in murky sheets. The door, the bed and the sandal wood scent that present in the table, all evokes me of the blissful days I had spent with my girlfriend, “Maple”. What kept me dead-drunk to her was, her thin lips and the half-wounded-moon, chiseled in her mushy cheeks. She is short, but has a dire curvaceous physique which would cuts you to the bone with ease. I would always like to call her as ‘Couplet’ for which she spouts her lips with anger.

During the month of December, 2019. Maple used to visit me at my home. She was wearing a pink flared skirt with a cardigan over a white T-shirt. When I opened the door, I was startled to see her standing like a tulip flower in front of me as dew drops of my soul scattered like rains, in her honey-tinted face, smeared in virgin petals. I greeted her. It was the happiest moment of life, when my home was overwhelmed of Maple’s mellifluous voice. “Your home looks like a dark museum, where I am the only fortunate girl to buy you for granted apart from your minimalistic life”. Maple trembled like a leaf out of coldness. I am sorry dear. I couldn’t have anything that comforts your trembling.

“Let’s have some sex”, said Maple. “Come again”, I said. She drew even closer to me than before and whispered with an enchanting tone, “Let’s have some sex”. That was the voice which rustled like a fragrance into my ears. She made the scales of her clothes off in a blink of an eye, unzipped my black trousers. And, with my white shirt, I stood like a light house in the oceanic darkness of my room where she ate my shirt as if a wound through her mouth. Later, we then lay like two-naked-pearls wedded with love’s sweat inside our dark room. I tilted my head towards her and said, “You are Beautiful”. Suddenly, a red rose sprouted from her lips, smaller than my little finger. Nearly, thousand times I would have been calling her, you are beautiful until the dawn of the next day. The more I said, the faster it sprouted and she literally buried my body with red roses. But, the blooming of the red rose started to wither when she saw a mound of love letters which momentarily made the bed to float in the air! Maple sat on the floor, took a letter dusted in bitter scent. She unfolded the letter and flashed the light through her cell phone where she traced out the words : “Remember Me?”, I am your sweetheart, “Candle”. Please save me. I’m dying here. My nerves were cracking down when Maple looked at me with tears after she read the letter.

“Do you really love me?” Maple asked. “Truly”, my love. But, it made me clear that she was not convinced of my words. She put on her clothes, opened the door and Maple was shocked to encounter the another version of herself, who is doing an extremely heinous brutal sex with “Candle”, my first girlfriend in my life. There was no movement in Candle’s body and in her face, except the eyes which is dripped in blood by looking at Maple. I was lying naked as usual in the darkness, eleven inch away from the door where Maple was standing. When she shut the door inwardly after encountering the obnoxious trauma, I was dozed off by the thoughts of “Candle”, whom I met in the train exactly at the midnight. I occupied the berth opposite to her. She slept like an innocent child. What prominently arrested me to her was, her golden anklets encircled in the waist of her milky-white feet. “I moved her beauty inch by inch through my words”. Before it reaches her face, a powdered moon, I was striving for oxygen. As my words go nearer and nearer, my heart get choked and I fell off from my berth. She woke up and asked, “Is everything alright?”. “Yeah” I said. We know really each other well as we were classmates for twelve years. Then, during the three years of our college life ( 2016 – 2019 ), Candle used to write love letters to me like “Sylvia Plath”. We stepped out in Egmore from the Chennai Express and it was 6am when Candle gave me a book as her gift for my Twenty-first birthday.

Maple was in chaos. She woke me up after a peaceful slumber for six hours and it felt that all the sides of my brain were once broken and mended then. When I opened my eyes, I saw Maple opening the door and I tried to follow her. But, as soon as I tried to reach her, I found myself soaked in the dark smell of the blood. After a few seconds, I came to realize that I had been trapped into the well, full of human heads floating like coconuts all around me!!! The well which I had been trapped inside, exactly looks like a ‘Reticulated Python’ with wide mouth. It made to feel that I have no connection to the world. Above the well, I saw a man who came with a heavy sack and started to pour thousands and thousands of human heads into the well over me! The old man said, “The more I pour the heads, the more you reach the top”. Thousands turned to lakhs and lakhs into crores. Finally, when I came out from the next moment of the well, I saw my girlfriend, “Candle” who had been turned into a cat with fish tail! She jumped upon my head and shouted ‘STUPID’. Suddenly then, “Maple” leapt out from the wall, who is really a dog with long human hair! She cuddled my legs and started to shoot out her cervical fluid which washed my legs and she asked, “Could you love me now?”. Candle shut my mouth with her paws. “This time I’m going to fuck you hard”, said Candle to Maple. Probably that was the sound which would break the world into pieces!!!

Now, I am all alone lying on the floor inside the dark room. I feel a burning sensation in the nape of my neck. I notice a pair of legs behind my legs, unusually longer than mine. I then, turn my glance on both the sides of my hands where I get a hand as big as log of wood behind me. I tumble down suddenly and flounder. I have been awestruck of seeing the book, which had been given as a gift by Candle, is now blazing vigorously, which shows the shadow of my body is breathing with an opened head. As I opened the book, I read the voice of Candle : I am not your girlfriend, Candle. But, your mother “Cucumber”, born with perfect human structure. And the one, whom you celebrate as your girlfriend, Maple is your “Son”, who was born out of your mouth with snake’s tail. I had the pleasure of raping my grandson! She furthur syas that, the incidents you experienced before and which you have been experiencing now by reading this book, all took place in “THE REFRIGERATOR” for which you considered as your room utterly dark, with no electricity, no bed and no table since one year of your birth. “Thank you Cucumber”, I said to myself. Unexpectedly, I experience an uncanny situation as the words in the book has been transformed into shimmering golden-ants and they are oozing like a river from the book then enter into the unclosed mouth of mine which had been slit by my ‘Little Hitler’. Ultimately I watched the last ant in the colony, before entering into my mouth, read my name : “You are now dead, Neha’!

2 thoughts on “Thank you Cucumber

  1. With a sliced neck of Dr. Psycho, the brutal beginning accelerates the story and what captivates the attention is the smooth shift of the scenes that the readers find every character mysterious from the starting itself. The simple direct way, Maple spouts her urge of lovemaking is Exotic as well as Romantic. After unwrapping one by one, the love letters, another version of Maple and Candle the first girlfriend lit up the mind with curiosity and additionally, numbed by the imagery of the well, heap of heads, and the cat-candle dog-maple. Twist after twist and the handling of magical realism are stunning.
    Very grippy narration with engaging plot👌👌

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  2. This bizarre tale will put the readers on to a tight rope situation, where the layering of unreliability has been intended at every shift of the sequence. The choice of characters and their naming will enthrall the readers or even amuse to a certain level. The writer is definitely influenced by murakami to a vast range, forcing him to deal with surreal contents. Having said surreal, the fact and fantasy are equally proportioned, which adds delight to the reading mind. The handling of queer fantasy and incest tries to deploy in the Minds of the readers of what relationship does the narrator holds with maple/candle /cucumber but the attempt also fails to deploy, which significantly adds to the unreliability factor that the story demands. The shift in narration and the devices used to cull out from the writer’s mind, works to a certain level in the attempt to create a masterpiece. The refrigerator as the dark room, confessed by cucumber, literally shifts perspectives on the story itself. At this point, the reader no longer wants to believe the writer. This being an essentiality for the form of the story, the writer should also have carefully deviced the narration in a way that would have added to the effect of the surreal situations, if kept at liminal fabrication. On the whole, a seriously funny story that grapples the mind of a postmodern reader.

    Contest status : highly commended… ( word counts should be minimal )

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