Fantasy
The witch looked like
somebody I knew. That’s why she didn’t
scare me though I should have been scared since she resembled the woman whose
hobby was messing up people’s lives. No,
the witch wasn’t wearing a sober-coloured sari like this woman I knew. Nor was her hair silver grey. In fact, her hair was red. And her teeth were green unlike the pearly
white teeth of the woman she reminded me of. She wore a ragged gown which smelt
of cremation grounds. In fact, there was
nothing about her that matched this woman I knew. But she resembled her. It was
her smile. Yes, that smile was
deadly. You knew the smile was meant to
kill. Whenever this woman I knew smiled,
somebody’s end was sure. End does not
mean physical death. This woman was the
boss of the institution where I worked for some time. Whenever she smiled, somebody lost his or her
job. And this woman made sure to fabricate some charge against the employee so
that the latter wouldn’t dare to fight back.
He or she wouldn’t even get another job with that sort of a history in
the curriculum vitae. That is worse than
death. Like that guy in T. S. Eliot’s
poem, the employee would be glad of
another death.
I was blessed; the woman
had never smiled at me.
“Fair is foul and foul is
fair,” wheezed the witch through her green teeth.
“Is this a formulaic
utterance of witches” I asked remembering Shakespeare’s witches in Macbeth.
“Isn’t every witch a
formula?” she asked.
“How did you become a
witch?” I was curious.
She laughed and her green
teeth glistened in the gentle light of the setting sun.
“I am Jenny Greenteeth,”
she said. “Heard of her?”
“Hmm,” I said. Jenny Greenteeth was a lonely old water witch
who was supposed to carry away bad children.
Mothers used her name to scare children into behaving well. Jenny lived in the waters. The water moss made her green. They made her teeth green. Thus went the story. We are the stuff that
stories are made of.
“We are stories,” said Jenny
as if she had read my thought.
Stories can be rewritten,
I suggested to her. “We rewrite even
histories. Want to try?”
She looked amused. She
grinned at me. Greenteeth.
“You can change the colour
of your teeth, for example, if you want.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, just anything can be
changed. We have the technology.” I
explained to her about beauty parlours and plastic surgery and cosmetic
products.
“We have Ayurvedic
toothpastes manufactured by a godman who produces a lot of other miraculous
things like Male-offspring-seeds.”
She was not interested in
male offspring. But she was not entirely averse to experimenting with the
toothpaste.
“Oh!” she screamed at
herself after the toothpaste had turned her teeth pearly white. She stared at
herself in the mirror. “Who will recognise me as Jenny Greenteeth anymore?”
“Why not be Jenny
Whiteteeth now?”
“How callous you are?” She
stared at me. “You have taken away my identity.”
In that case thousands of
people are losing their identity everyday in beauty parlours and other cosmetic
centres, I wanted to tell her. But I did
not wish to be callous. I only meant
well. Like the Jihadists, for example, I was trying to better the world by converting
a witch into a proper woman.
“But how will mothers tame
their children anymore?” Jenny worried.
“Oh, they will invent a new
witch,” I consoled her.
I suggested her to dye her
hair silver grey and don a sober-coloured sari. She obeyed like a child.
“Now you are ready to be a
boss,” I said. I sent her to the woman
whom Jenny had reminded me of. “Keep up
your smile,” I reminded her.
I wondered how I could be
so callous as to send an innocent witch to that woman. I’m still wondering.
I tried to find the meaning to the whole thing, ofcourse a picture comes to me about some mystic creature, coorporate baba and then I found a deep satire on religious mischiefs
ReplyDeleteIt's nothing more than the satire... Yes, the corporate lady is from my life, a face that will haunt me more than any witch till the end of my life. So a personal blog to some extent.
Delete"I wondered how I could be so callous as to send an innocent witch to that woman. I’m still wondering."- Ha,Ha. ha wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThanks for appreciating my punch line, Rajeev. In fact, "that woman" ( a real woman as far as I'm concerned) and such people are infinite times more dangerous to humanity than any witch or devil.
DeleteI am reminded of an incident in 1986 or 87: When we were pursuing our BEd there was a girl Rai (I forget her first name) whom you wanted to change by giving her a book by, I think, Ayn Rand. Because, you wanted her to shed her conceit as well as illusions. Was that a precursor to this callousness of today?
ReplyDeleteHahaha... I have grown beyond Rai and Rand ☺😉
DeleteMore (be)witching women ploughed through my life lately 😑😑
It was kind of cathartic, sending an innocent witch to a bewitching one.
ReplyDeleteTrue. After all, fiction serves a cathartic purpose too.
Delete