The concept of Death has always been like a riddle to me.For me, there is no heaven or hell.There is eternal oblivion,a cessation of person’s consciousness.It is nothing but a state of complete forgetfulness but my definition of eternal oblivion changed.
7 June, 1998
They often say “Women are the God’s version of Rubik cube” and my woman is no different.But I’ve always been good at solving puzzles and riddles .I watch the clock and it’s about time .It’s been two days since I last talked to her.
“Morning,” I say, but there’s silence on the other end. I think she’s giving me the silent treatment. I’m supposed to say, “What’s wrong, Baby, what have I done?” but sod that for game of soldiers. I started hearing voices in my head. “Did she find out?”. I groan sharply.
“Hello, who’s calling?” said an unfamiliar voice
“You okay ? It’s only a dream”.
I wake up. I am in my bedroom. Our bedroom, I should say. The curtains are still drawn. I turned around and there she is,my beautiful wife, smiling at me.
“If you call this life, you oppose its reality. If you don’t call this life, you ignore the fact. Now what do you wish to call this?” .
I looked at her nervously, not taking the hint. There is something familiar in the banality of the riddle , and the weirdness of its poser.
“That’s not funny.” I exclaimed.
“Really? And here I thought you loved riddles.”
For half a minute there wasn’t a sound. Then from the living-room I heard a sort of choking murmur and part of a laugh, followed by a familiar voice. I turned sharply and went out. To my overwhelming surprise the living room was deserted.
“Do you still love her?” ,she asked.
I broke out surprisingly, “No, I don’t”.
“It’s okay if you do, Hon.” she said.
“What was that?” I inquired.”You never call me Hon “.
“Well, she didn’t but I loved calling you that,remember?”.
I was stunned.
“What did you do to her? ” I asked.
“Your love belongs to me and only me.You are just in love with her body but your soul belongs to me”, and suddenly her disembodied face started floating along the dark cornices of the living room.
Am I dreaming again. Wake up ,wake up now!!!
“Don’t be afraid, Hon” she said, “but I’m as real as you are. Tell me, did you solve the riddle I left you on my note?”
I didn’t scream. Sure, I was shaking, but even in my fear, I felt it was like a puzzle or a test.I took out the note but didn’t dare to read it as I already knew what was in it. Whenever she was in pain,she didn’t show it. She used to leave a note behind. Her last note left a scar that could never be healed. It was some kind of a reminder of all the lies I told her.
I closed my eyes. She was gone. It took me ages to fall asleep, but by the time I did, I sort of felt I’d never wake up again.
7 June, 1998
“I…I am Chase. May I talk to Clarice?”. My heart started hurting out of nowhere.Somehow I felt,something’s wrong.
“Mr.Chase, am Inspector Paul Han from San Francisco Police Department. May I know how you and Miss Clarice know each other?”
“Umm…She is my fiance. IS everything okay, Inspector? Where is she? “. I started panicking
“Well, Mr.Chase, I think I’ve got a bad news for you. We have found the dead body of Miss Clarice. The neighbors reported a strange rotting smell in the lobby. We had to break open the door. We found her hanging from the ceiling fan. We also found a note lying on her bed.We would like you to come to the station and give your statement.” I dropped the phone. It was too much to take.I guess, she did find out.