Onion

Onion

Archana Ravindra

“So I murdered a fellow today,” he said. “And no cop will ever follow up on it,” he added.

“That’s what they all think,” I assured him, but to no avail. He was certain with a certainty I could never match with all my rationality.

“So you see - ” he started off. And I could not do anything but listen. Hoping to keep at it. Hoping to keep to the end. Hoping to realise the end, when, or if, it did come.

***

I went to the store today. A small clothing store. As you know, it is Tuesday today. It was a little after noon too. The moment I entered the shop, I could tell what each of them had had for lunch. The owner’s burp told me the sophisticated story of a meat dish, because that’s the kind of trace onions leave. And onions always mean meat. I mean, could you imagine eating something vegetarian and smelling of onions? What would be the point, chance or effect of that? You tell me and I’ll try to believe it.

You see, I want to believe it. I very much do. You only have to make me. So while you figure out a way to do this, let me tell you that I went to this small clothing store with its people whose bellies and eyes were full.

I am looking for a white shirt, I told the man who paid the least attention to me, out of everyone else at the shop.

For a whole minute or so, I heard and saw nothing interesting at all. And then, the shock of my life! The gnat had come up with a pristine white coloured shirt. Pure white. Soft texture. Airy looking. Reasonably priced too!

The nerve of this leech! How could he not understand?

14 Yours Truly

Oh, the realisation of having a boner in the middle of a quiet store on a Tuesday afternoon with only bored middle aged men all around!

Good God, man! What do I have to do to just make you understand? Do you not see what I want? Do you not see the desperation in my voice, eyes or whatever it is that you people take note of? All I ask is for a shirt and all you give me is one. The exact one I asked for and imagined in my mind. You come within my price range and hand me the only one I want to pick. No question, nor contemplation. You give and you stand and you want your right to look pleased when you’ve done nothing to deserve it.

I know you still don’t see it. But do you? Stop playing games now.

Just do it.You know what I want.I used my words. Spent my gestures. And all this.

Oh you won’t. You never will. I’ve tried to explain this, but what’s the point now? It’s still as important as ever, but you and I were never meant for it. You listen and see and abstract and reduce. You stand and reduce. You sit and reduce. You watch and reduce. Reduce, reduce and reduce.

And in all my asking, here I stand. Infinitely more reduced than I was when I came in.

But what of it?

I give up on the onions. I admit a sore defeat. He smiles. And leaves.

Until next time.

17 Chaicopy | Vol. III | Issue I