But Ma, I Like it Alone

“Your Honour, allow me to produce evidence of criminal conspiracy and evil scheme that led to the murder of my client. After examining the evidence, you will be convinced that the murder was premeditated and that the accused had been planning this act for atleast an year now”

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He:                                                                                                               10/12 – 10PM

Dearest, How about this? I leave the gas on at night and when u switch on the kitchen light in the morning – boom ….

She:                                                                                                              11/12 – 8AM

Darling, that’s not even original. Come on, put in some thought. I am sure you would want to live happily after I am done with, right? Even if you survive the blast, the police would make your life miserable.

BTW - my idea – poisoned milk/food. What say?

He:                                                                                                                 11/1 – 11PM

I thought you were some super assassin, the way you offhandedly dismissed my scheme. And you come up with this? Seriously, poisoned milk? I mean, I don’t even drink milk. And you think the police would celebrate your act of murder once they discover it?

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He was a loner for as long as he could remember. School fights saw him battered but the state of his foolhardy opponent; his unpredictability and ferocity ensured that he remained his only company. He loved his books; after all they were non intrusive friends, they come when called and don’t fuss if put down unceremoniously. That is when the school introduced mandatory sports and games hour.

 The principal had always believed in the importance of sports in the building of a boy’s character, especially on the ability to socialize. On noticing that most of the boys, with active connivance from parents, began spending most of the free hour with books, the principal felt it was time to step in. And the free hour morphed into games hour.

This presented him with a problem. Every game, be it cricket, football, or even rugby, meant that he had to involve himself with a set of other individuals. And he didn’t like it one bit. Not that he had any illusions of superiority, he merely loathed the sound of human chatter. Thats when he discovered squash. Smashing a ball to the wall didn’t need him to say or hear even a word; he loved it. A misguided PT who offered to coach him received a bump on his head from a wantonly miscued racket and the interest in squash spread on to boxing, fencing and sprints.

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He:                                                                                                                12/1 – 8 PM

How about this – I put a pressure cooker on the flame, only that in this one there would be a tight fitting plate between the lid and body of the cooker. High pressure would be built in but would have no source of release. And lack of any steam from the whistle at the top would persuade you to open the lid and BAM, the cooker explodes on your face!!!

She:                                                                                                               13/2 – 10 PM

Wow, that’s original. You are one sick psycho. But I don’t think exploding cooker would kill me. Disfigure me, yes, maybe maim me, but killing me, I don’t think so. And once I am able to make a statement to the police, you are in for some creative torture.

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He was a stud in college, girls going head over heels for him. His academic achievements were stuff of professors’ discussions over lunch, his athletic and fencing abilities had the college name leading any and all inter university medal tally. What added to his appeal was his esoteric nature, his ice cold demeanor and his ability to silence even a lecturing professor with a piercing look. He did notice them of course – the set of giggling, airheaded girls who chattered loudly to attract his attention, it only served in making his inner walls stronger; they – the girls – seemed to be a species he refused to acknowledge. And that in turn increased his mystique.

College was a breeze through and he landed in a plum posting in an MNC. That’s when his troubles began. And they were not the “He is an underperformer / he is an overpaid liability to the organization” kind of trouble, rather they were the “why don’t you settle down now that you are the most eligible bachelor I know of” kind of pressure from the family. He stonewalled the initial discussions but the pressure got immense. So he picked a girl from the list provided to him. And for the first time in his life, he had to lower his defenses and allow another human to get emotionally involved with him. For the first time in his life, he was scared.

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She:                                                                                                              14/2 – 10PM

Now my idea. Ever head of Marbled Cone Snail? One drop of its venom is so powerful that it can kill more than 20 humans. And something even better, there is no known antidote for the venom. How about I put once such in your shoes? As the venom can act several days later, no one would even be able to zero down on the cause for death. What say, eh? I think I win this round

He:                                                                                                               14/2 – 11:30 PM

Wow that’s awesome. I am beaten J

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She was an intelligent girl with an imperial bearing and from a reputed family. A union of the best, they said. But that was what he was scared of, what if best is not good enough? And so with trepidation in his heart, he tied the knot.

The first year was paradise; it was so good that he wondered if he wasted a good quarter of his life being sequestered from the rest of the world. She loved her work and her hours were flexible. Yet, she left for work only after him and was back in home to welcome him in the evening. He was her first priority, she told him, and if the work suffers a bit, so be it. He holidayed like never before and theirs was a couple cited by all who knew them as the union of the best to form something even better.

The problems started later. Small squabbles that led to frosty, and even sepulchral, silence for days on end, sacrifices that he was loathe to make, responsibilities that caused a droop in his shoulders; in short typical friction between two individual who have to interact closely and for a long time. But to him, who had never had a close interaction with anyone before, this was atypical, nay it was against his nature; his very core was nauseated. It was time to solve the problem as he saw it, solve it in his way.

And then he struck on a brilliant idea – brilliant that she was, how about roping her in his search for ways to kill her? “Dear”, he said one day, “why don’t we do one thing? We argue a lot and each argument is leading to a lot of pent up frustrations. How about letting them out? “Brilliant”, she said sarcastically, “I have married a genius. And pray how do we let it out if we don’t talk to each other for days on end after every petty quarrel?”

“I have an idea. How about planning my murder and writing it down each time your hands itch to wring my neck? That way, the frustration is given a vent and we have something to laugh about later.”

“Awesome idea. You are a super genius, dear”

Thus started the slips of paper on the bedside every time they argued and sometime even when they didn’t.

“As is evident, Your Honour, the slips of paper were a mere game, a distraction to prevent a domestic squabble ending up at the divorce court. And other than the meanderingly circumstantial evidence in form of the slips, the prosecution has no evidence of misdemeanor on the part of my client. I therefore request you to dismiss the this frivolous petition”

“The court pronounces the accused not guilty. Court adjourned till 2 PM”

No one got to know about the day when they visited the aquarium, and prodded by him, she touched a blue ringed octopus. The sting was painless but sufficient to cause death a few hours later. And pathology could only describe the cause of death as collapse of lungs.

It took him more than a year to get back to his original life style; in some aspects, her touch was indelible. Another year passed by.

“Beta, look at this girl. She looks good right? Suits you perfectly. I told her about your tragedy and she was all concerned about you. What do you say?”

“But Ma, I like it alone”