Sun Moon & Stars Volume III Curse Of The Third-Eye

Chapter 3

One eerie thing about deserted roads Shomak relished was the ambience that could make blood turn into icy water and the comfortable thing – no one could stop the passerby from singing loud and out of rhythm.

"Take me as I am, take my life.... I would give it all, I would sacrifice..." Shomak sang as unmelodiously as he could, to push the news of the peculiar murder away and concentrate on the road. He was, however, concentrating more on the lyrics than the road!

It seemed strange that in a city of more than fourteen million inhabitants, there existed a road, which could boast of never having felt what it was like getting stamped by crowds. To Shomak it was comforting. 

After his life was raided by the press every minute, a past he could hardly come to terms with, and a future which was a complete blur, he liked to be left alone, to be left secluded from known faces, at least for few hours, deserted and in peace.

Of course, all the experiences he had gathered also pointed to the very fact that some peace could be disturbing as well but he didn't give a damn.

He walked aimlessly through a bylane of South Kolkata, far away from his home, deliberately taking a long walk. Deep down he knew running was never an option and neither did he consider it as his option. But it felt soothing sometimes to be a no one amongst the known.

So he kept walking and ruining a beautiful classic by distorting the entire rhythm. It was extremely weird that even though in such situations when any sane person would start running away from the eeriness, surprisingly those strange echoes rumbling down the streets as a blow of soft breeze rolled over didn't bother Shomak at all.

He remained unaffected by the pricking at the back of his neck, couldn't hear the echo, and neither could he pay attention to his fading voice.

He was walking.

The sound that his shoes made while crossing the uneven road didn't reach his ears. He sang, whistled, hooted and kept walking.

And when that chaotic silence failed to disturb him a distant calling of his name made him halt.

It wasn't exactly his name. No, nobody had called him by his name yet it felt to be addressed to him. As if someone spoke taking his references.

He frowned. Although he could feel a rapid rise in his heartbeat he had well experiences in the recent past that stopped him from turning back. But how could he not turn back? He had become the subject of somebody's discussion. It wasn't his name that they took but he was positive it was about him they were speaking.

To satisfy his curiosity he did turn back.

But he was still alone on that deserted road. 

Smashing his carefree state the feeling of unease, a known fear returned, crawling up his spine slowly as he heard it again.

This time, clear, sharp and distinct.

No not Shomak Moitra. He was being referred to in two broken syllables "On-kh."

As soon as he tried to concentrate on those fuzzy conversations he was hearing, a sudden pain burst in the junction of his nose and forehead.

He screamed. 

It was severe, convulsing his nerves, pulling his chest furiously towards his spine.

He bent over his knees and fell unable to withhold. "Ah!" he shouted holding his head; the middle of his forehead throbbed more inflicting an excruciating and unbearable pain that numbed his senses.

"Stop! Make it Stop!" He screamed.

Like a sheet made of fine transparent red silk, a veil started descending upon his eyes. All he could see was a burning fire and flashes of red.