Page 98 - November 2020

98
Litterateur
November 2020

The Chill

A Shyammohan

A movie critic and columnist based in Kerala, India

The rain pours incessantly in the hills. The icy tentacles pervade everything in its
reach, giving no heed to time, with a chill that can’t be thawed. But it’s the memory
of an another bloody chill that made Ayesha give a jerk in her blanket making the
personal assistant girl take sudden notice of her. “You want something hot?” she
enquired wryly. Otherwise also Ayesha was pretty sure that the PA’s hawk eyes
were fully glued on her. The blanket moved along with her nay. “Sir had just
called”, PA’s voice was sharp like an icicle that sent a sliver down Ayesha making
her more desolate and cold. The PA girl returned to her work satisfied. Ayesha felt
the dampness close in on her with an aimless vengeance.

She had felt the same cold disgust when she came to join the college navigating
sinister ‘U’ turns and frosty clouds. The campus looked melancholic as seen

through a sullied glass. Then it’s not raining Ayesha thought but the chill was
there nevertheless. She felt the creepy touch of a lecher on her inner thighs
crawling measuredly up making her nauseous. “It might be the curves”, her umma
consoled. The flight of stairs to the office was flanked by an English spring
complementing the unplastered stone walled block ahead. The burst and bloom of
the flowers were lost on Ayesha as she struggled to keep herself warm in spite of
the warm weather. She was fighting to thaw the frost that had settled on her skin,
inside her clothes, beneath her shroud. Her body gave out jerks in the name of
shivers.