Milklight

Milklight suicide... The final ache... Numbness filled pride... And the darkness vague

As clear as in the daylight, the distant tall towers seemed to be slumbering away in faint silence. The people inside them happily snoring after a long tiring day. It was one in the morning, or maybe two? Who knew? My mind was just the opposite of that clear daylight, vague and mist-filled. Unlike my mind the city was bathing in a stream of milk poured by the great silver orb. I was jealous of the moon. Sweet and genteel and faraway. I'd just done something my mind was too scattered to remember. I didn't know. Should I feel guilty? I'd done something very bad.
It's all over, a meek voice kept telling me. Look at her. You never know...you might not see her again...
I stared at the lone beauty of the night. Little did I know right then that she was not the only one to soothe away the pain inside me.
Everything was quiet. Everything, except a noise from behind. I looked around and saw some white figure bright in the milk light. Dark mass, that must be hair, pierced through the white shape. I got closer. It was the bare back of a woman. She was sitting on my bed side and gently shifting herself to one side as if in hesitation where to settle herself.

There was something wrong with me. I wasn't at all taken aback to find Naila in my room at the dead of night. Instead I found anger strangling my throat as I spoke,

"You! At last! Why here? Couldn't find a better place, right?" My voice stirred a futile sarcasm. I felt I nearly shouted out and broke everyone's sleep in the night. But I didn't care. The reason of all my long tearful and sleepless nights was sitting before me, head bent down in some kind of unearthly shyness.

"Say what did bring you here?" I cried out again.

She was silent. Now she stared at me. Her half-pitying, half-apprehending look on the face was strangely visible in the moon light. Her face. Yes, it was her face that haunted me every night.

Strange! But it seemed real. Her face that I in vain tried to wipe out from my memory materialised before me in this milklight, glowing with an ethereal beauty.

I rushed to her and grabbed a hand fearing she would vanish into the milklight.

"Say something now!" I pleaded. The familiar desperateness nearly muffled my words.

Yes, it was her voice I longed to hear every day. Her ringing childish voice. The lack of it made my days miserable.

"I'm so sorry. Actually, I didn't know what to say at that time, trust me!" She bent down her head, something I never saw she did before. I felt a warm flow of blood into my heart and instantly all my anger turned into something soft and caring for her. How could I be so stupid to go berserk on her? A little child of mine. I caressed her hair with affection. That same old intoxicating fragrance filled up my nostrils. She was a little bird cupped in my hands. I didn't care anymore how cruelly she snubbed me all along after that horrendous stupidity of mine. I didn't even care that she was not going to be mine, that she was still going to marry that well-off smart engineer living abroad.

All I cared for is she. And her voice. I heard it after a long long time and felt relieved as much as those parents who hear their toddler's first words.

"Say that again" I dreamily demanded.

She stared at me with a look I couldn't describe with words. It was beautiful and I knew I must learn the all the words of the world some day to get closer to describe that look. It just assured me she was a dreamer too.

"I've given you a lot bad times, right? I've hurt you a lot! I don't know what to say to you...how much...sorry I am..." her voice emanated from those milky moon-lit lips.

I wasn't listening. I just listened to the high and low pitches she made in her sentences. Loveable. Her voice. Not her words. They were same old apologies and preachings of reality, occasionally with semi-nervous, semi-flirtatious giggles. These giggles, I missed them for so long!   

It felt like a sweet dream. Her presence seemed a mere beautiful illusion of the incandescence of the milklight poured from the moon. But she was there! Sitting right beside me! How could you deny it? 

I didn't realise when she stopped her mellifluous chiming  and held my hand and did something I never knew a girl like her could do so easily. She placed it on her breast. I realised just right then that she was en déshabillé. My eyes often used to linger at that very place when I used to see her walking along the long corridors of university. I couldn't help it. But she was heavily modest. Her parents must have these so-called familial rules not to let their daughter do whatever pleased her. No flirting, not at least with what you wear!  I remembered the day I thrust a couple of carnations in haste into her hands. My hand involuntarily brushed off that soft and warm region back then. Tonight I felt that softness and warmness again. I could actually feel her heart beating against my palm. Surprisingly a vague curtain of numbness fell over me and I felt I'd got rid of the moroseness that clung to me all along all these long weeks. My head felt light like a feather.

Ridiculous love-making. I wept like a kid and soaked her nearly wet with my tears but she was caring. She wiped the tears away and murmured soothingly into my ears and ruffled my unkempt hair all the time. I felt the numbness tugging me into an unknown, never-felt-before serenity. My last sensation was the soft kiss on her wet lips. My last sight was her skin glowing in the milklight...

"You don't have to ignore him anymore!"

Farzana hissed like a malevolent snake in the genteel silence of the library. She had thrust the newspaper carelessly on Naila's table and nearly run away from her. Naila slowly took the paper into her hands over the financial accounting book. She didn't have a clue but she braced herself for something unpleasant.

A small gasp. Nobody saw if she really shed a tear after reading the single column news.

Author's Note

Painting by John Atkinson Grimshaw

Reviews

[Adam, the Grub Street L..]

I like how clear you are about the mood and atmosphere. It is specific and clear, I also believed the emotion in the piece, it is slightly confused, hankering for the good and pining for the bad at the same time.

I like the end, it's like a slap to the face, I like how the style changes, the sentences change length and the word choice becomes more ordinary. To end like that seems more like a film technique then a text one, but I like it.

I feel there may be one or two too many milklights, but it could be that the newness of the term made it stick out for me, I'm unsure.

[Sujash I. Purna]

Thanks mate!

[Emrick]

Interesting.and what does this word mean "en déshabillé"?.

[Debbie_Philly]

You really have a talent for writing a story that takes the reader deep onside your mind... this is really well written and very interesting.. I enjoyed this very much !!

[Myra]

I love the references to the moon and the dreamy feel!

[J. F. Charleston]

Very well written and how you put it all together made me want to know more! I almost felt the things that the main character felt. Truly amazing!

[Sujash I. Purna]

Thanks!

[Laura Maidah]

The people within? Uncomfortable phrasing. The people "inside"... maybe. It's very sweeping, like a ballad. It really works in places. The last kiss is heartrending. The dots are distracting. I have to edit those a lot for our mag. They look first-timer; most freshmen use and abuse them. You have a real way of capturing a beautiful girl. I always wish after one of these, that I could be a muse that causes the inception of a story like this. I disagree with one of the comments. People on this site are too young. The dialogue is credible and stands firm with the rest of the story. The tone is reserved in only the places it should be. The plot is plausible and quick. There are no arduous monologues; I thought there would be at a cursory glance. Overall, it's a great little thing you just posted.

[allie_arrowz]

gripping story.
i think your dialogue is a little unrealistic though.