Morbid Art




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    The eyes were allright. Just needed to put a needle in them. Pull back the eye lids, till it caused an involuntary wave in the scrotum. Yes, its always the scrotum, even when your parent tells you the giddy-widdy feeling at the time of the descent of the Ferris wheel is in the stomach. The pupil should look, well, alarmed. It should burst out of the socket, wanting to leave the white behind; to avoid the fate of the sharp point of the needle leaving a gash on it. Now just purple coloured veins hanging loose from the corner of the eye. That ll give it a touch, a nice touch. 

    This will raise bile. So real! They will put it up in the Louvre once Im gone, Neil thought to himself. Neil eased back, making the the hollow 20 mm metal pipes of the backrest, ill-suited for the 100 pounds of lard on his back, squeak involuntarily. It was a tough one, this. But the end result was pretty close to the eyeball which floated freely in the jar filled with, what seemed to him, club soda. Hed thank Shreya for it, for smuggling it out of the lab. 

    While he sat there, gasping for what could pass off as post-orgasmic breaths, he heard a scratching sound behind him. Wood on wood. He hated this. Why did people have to disturb him all the time. Hed clearly put a sign outside - Busy. Neil... His mother sounded so tentative. Your father wants a word with you. She did not step in though. His tantrums could be dangerous, for him that is. One time, they said, he had started foaming at his mouth. It was a fit attack. Hed overheard them say it had to do with a clot in his brain. Hmm, that was an idea now. Brain, clot, that would be interesting to paint. Hed have to ask for Shreyas help again. Wonder what shed think of his request this time. 

    The clots were worsening, hed heard. Enough blood did not reach the brain to oxygenate it, and that was the cause of his temperamental, occasionally hyper-violent, outbursts. He was not normal, that much was clear to Neil. They always discussed his condition in front oh him, like they did about the dilapidated shoe rack which needed to be hacked so it could be carried through the narrow doorway in pieces. And they always discussed these two issues together. 

    He heard a creak. It was the third plank in the wooden flooring which had come loose. American teak, his father had once said with a pompous wave of his hand as he showed his friend around the house. Why, for Gods sake, why, did his mother not always avoid that one? And then there were no more tentative foot falls to be heard. His mother stood rooted like a rabbit caught in headlights. Come on, mother. You dont need to be that scared of me! He almost found himself chuckling at the thought. 

    Neil!  said his mother. It was a pathetic beseech. She put her shivering palm on his shoulder, trying but failing to turn him towards her. Son, can you come down .... She paused mid way. Her tongue seemed to have done a double back flips in her mouth, almost chocking the shrill scream which was forcing its way out. She sounded like an overburdened donkey mewling.  

    What is that ? That eye! she screamed not making much sense at all. Neil looked down at his drawing. Yes, it was so realistic. He had blown her away, finally. 
    Jose! Jose... she ran out screaming. Funny woman, thought Neil. And then he saw something else, as he turned look at his painting. He saw it for the first time; how come hed missed it. Jose, get the fuck up here... Can you come out of the toilet... Jose, come up right now. 

    Why was his mother wailing so much. 

    But what was this? Had he not returned it to Shreya. She most definitely must be cross with him. After all she had pinched it from her bio lab just for him. He compared it with the picture. Pretty close. There was a needle sticking out of them both. 
    What? What is it?  
    It was his dad. What is it, was all he always wondered. He hurried up the wooden steps, to his mother who was still sobbing Neil .. Neil ... 

    What woman, just say it. He could hear his fathers thoughts. Shreya would be mad at him. He had to return it to her. But he though he had. Hadnt he met her just yesterday. Wonder if they missed it in her bio-lab. Wasnt it ironical, so many pair of eyes did not spot the missing eye.  
    What!  Another dim witted reaction from his father, as he burst through the door. He recoiled, his eyes popping out and his mouth doing a perfect O - just like those beautiful women sucking the pee-pipe in the movies his servant used to watch in the dead of the night, while he rocked the six year old Neil to sleep on his lap.  

    Wow, though Neil. He could have drawn his fathers eyes right there, right now. Okay, so Ill hide the eye. Its not like they were seeing eyes for the first time. He was taught to look into peoples eyes when they spoke. So he had a dead eye of a dead man. Who cared for fucks sake?!  His father had never before bellowed this way. Just once in the past thought. It was around the same when he was six, and the servant had been busy rocking Neil to sleep. The servant had run out butt naked, out into the cold night. Even then his mother had wailed, the same way she was wailing now. Neil... his father bellowed again, as he jumped on him. Call the doctor, stop standing there you stupid woman... Call the doctor...

    Doctor! Why? They werent going to call the hospital to report the missing eye, were they? 

   His eye... his eye... wailed his mother. 

    Whose eye? My eye! 

    Stupid fuck ... spooned his eye out... she continued. 

    What? What was this new delirious rant of her? And why was she hugging the door? I didnt do nothing. Shreya gave this to me, screamed Neil. 

   Your stupid fool, what have you done? Call the the ambulance... Dont just stand there... He saw his mother scampering off, echoes of her sob resonating from the stone walls of the living room. Neils father started to pull him. Shreya gave this to me ... I swear she did...  

    Shut the fuck up, screamed his father. 

    As his father dragged him into the living room, Neil was stunned by what he saw. There was Shreya. Hung on the wall. Wearing a white doctors overcoat; she was grainy and her monochrome form was in a thick black frame. There was a plaque below the picture which read, among other things like beloved daughter and shining light, 1982-2010. On a digital calendar above the fire mantle, he read, July 23, 2012. Neil frowned. Things didnt seem right, and it wasnt just the left side of the room that he couldnt see.

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Facebook Conversation


04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
In one word - Brilliant!


04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
In one word BRILLIANT!

Vivek Bane..

04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
Oh God! This is an exquisite piece of writing.

Richard Fe..

04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
This is so good. I want to see this as a movie. Good fucking job.

Debashree ..

04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
Very cool...grotesque!

Shawn Pere..

04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
Very good. But if I were you, I would have let the readers know that it was Neil's eye only at the very end (not near the end); in fact, your last line is already indicative of this. Do write more.


04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
grey, bleak and morbid....the title IS APT.

Shobha Kap..

04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
Wow! The ending is hair raising.


04 Feb 2014
.., wrote:
Grt story


04 Feb 2014
.., wrote: Exquisite in a word.... but the profanity dint make it any more urgent in meaning...

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22 Jun 2014
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24 Jun 2014
test gscra.., wrote: whole of the UK but of course most of our work is in London .

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