Incendiary
All of humanity is a hypocritical bitch.
- Devil
Morris sees him every day, a book on advanced calculus, the red letters of its title fading to rust, its dogeared corners suggestive of an often hasty professor's neglect, held in a grip too firm, eyes fixated on loose notes held in another, strut across graveled meandering paths that lead up to block A, he disappears in the swarm of students. He's young, he gels with the young crowd, he deploys charm to disarm. Morris knows it, the young professor ain't much of a scruples fan, when the girl in pea green sweater would make a pass at him, which she most likely would, he'd hardly honor the teacher-pupil code of conduct, he'd sneak her a flying kiss.
He'd throw gleefully chauvinistic retorts in a repartee with old Molly, just for kicks, and lord knows what else he got kicks out of, most recent was trampling over Magnolia or some other spring fetish of his. But all of that wouldn't make up for a fraction of interest for Morris, it was all of that plus that, which made the head, department of experimental psychology, intrigued with one Mr. Raizada, Advay. The man seems to have a preoccupation with juvenile crimes, the horrendous sort.
"I gather solving the many differentials of human mind fascinate you. Fancy a quiz?" Edmund Morris begins, finding Raizada yet again in the library owned by his department.
"Can't say about fancy, but I'll take that quiz when I need a shrink. "Advay Jackanapes Raizada winks at him.
"I hope you wouldn't unless you are taking that book as some guide to parenting." Says Morris pointing to the book on Child Forensic psychology and returns his wink with one of his own.
"Children... can be creepy you know."
"Not a very popular opinion but yes, I agree."
"Not an opinion at all, rare to find books. Wonder why you blokes are so circumspect about accepting it?"
Morris places himself in his favorite chair, facing the window that opened to the east wing. Gazing at his muse in the receding sunlight. "And you are very keen."
Advay shifts in his hair, "I am curious."
"About innocence perceived and present?"
"Sort of. People overrule the existence of corruption in those assumed, ill informed. Like some parents are against sex ed, for they are scared it exposes their kids too soon to the fun things in life you know? That kind of thing, because really, what's the difference? They aren't aware of many things, doesn't mean they are incapable of doing wrong because they don't know what's wrong. " He keeps his tone casual but Morris picks up strain.
"I have had that idea professor, really if you think about it, innocence burns down to lack of awareness, don't you?"
"Innocence burns down to a myth then. When has unawareness stopped you from being selfish, greedy, vengeful?"
"Murderous?"
"Are you prying prof? But yeah why not."
"Not prying, just supplying. Pry I'd like to, regarding what you thought about my book on the subject?"
"How'd you know I have read that?"
"You have been here fairly often I suppose."
"What would you think about that, you are the shrink."
"No, I am not. I just study. And teach, sort of." He taps his finger on the table, "so, tell me." He has a hypnotic gaze.
"That was inconclusive. You took case studies from rehabs, around the world. You said 70% of juveniles after rehab turned out worse. The crimes increased in heinousness with their age. And yet you advocated minimizing punishment for them."
"Let's not deal in absolutes, children are more pliant to suggestion. Most crimes weren't self motivated, the ones extreme in nature, however could be attributed to the surroundings they were living in. Change the surroundings, they still have a chance."
"But isn't that true about most criminals? Tell me why should I treat an 18 year old different from the 8 year old. I'd rather find the younger more dangerous, it's not in the age, it's the mind. If it's mature enough to kill at 8, why not just accept it."
"And mete out a capital punishment? How about responsibility towards the society. How about our responsibilities towards the younglings as adults, how about giving them a better future?"
"How about our responsibility towards justice? How about our responsibility towards those who suffered at the hands of somebody whom the society and judiciary decrees as not old enough to face real justice? The victims, do they have no say in this?"
"How about you meet one of those children?"
"How about you go your way and I go mine?"
Raizada's thinning patience begins to show, his cheeks redden, his eyes focus sharply at the older professor. The air around them freezes with tension.
"How about we meet again and you tell me how you feel after you have had your justice?" Morris puts calmly.
"Oh sir, I don't suppose I'd require to bother you then, but I'd be a very satisfied man." There's a menace to the chill in his voice and a chill to the determination. There's a maniacal glee, in his satisfied'. He strides away, leaving the book behind, open on the table.
Morris moves to the book, shuts it with a flip before taking note of the open page. He shakes his head, "You won't bother me son, I am afraid. You might need an actual shrink then." He mutters to the air.
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II
His apartment is a vision of misery, his mind is cray with sounds from memories of distant bygones.
"I saw your mom flying, is she a witch?"
"There's her, the flying witch. She's scary."
"That's him, Dev. Catch him."
Lies. Consummate lies, and an entire village behind her lies. They believe in witches and black magic. They believe in her lie that his mother is one of them. She watches as they torch his mother alive. They all watch. They drive a dagger through his father's heart when he tries to stop them, for they believe that's the right thing to do. His father bleeds to death while his mother chars, till she looks and smells like charcoal.
His brother asks him with a lisp, why are they hiding and when will their parents come to fetch them, it's been 12 hours. He's hungry. He grabs some nuts he had sneaked in his pockets and feeds them to the younger child. "They'll come to take us, why don't you tell me the poem you learned yesterday till then?"
He begins singing the song instead, the one their father sang them to bed. In his small, lispy voice, Advay hears his brother sing his first song.
Outside, their hideout, he can hear the villagers. How did they know? "He must be there, that's his secret lair. " She reveals to them.
The little brother confusedly climbs his shoulder. And he runs for his life, till he feels he can no longer run. The footsteps and sounds draw closer, with the heaviest heart, he grabs his brother and throws him at a procession. The last time he prays in his life, he prays that Miku somehow survives.
He remembers, each detail of The Day to infinitesimal precision. He plays it over and over again in his head to the extent they stop feeling like his memories. It's a film, he draws on paper, he jots in notebooks. Everything prior to The Day is speculated from new angles. Every childish fight with her becomes a motive, every complaint of hers about him, becomes a move in her game of chess, it doesn't matter if it was her game or an elder's suggestion all along. It was a game and she was a key player. No he wouldn't throw the excuse of age to pardon her, he knows better. Facts know better. Facts from around the world on exactly how capable children are. And they should see justice. All of them.
He plots for sixteen years, a meticulous script of destruction, leaf by leaf he'd uproot the tree of those who caused him grief, those who gained from his grief. And then he'll burn it. Everyone and everything. All of humanity is a hypocritical bitch, they say it's a blur, the delineation of good and bad, of angels and demons. They pride themselves in the existence of the grey realm, where everything can be explained, everything can be given a justification for. Bullshit. Excuses. Cowardice. He believes in the Devil that susurrates along the fringes of his conscience. Embrace me, feel me, feel my power. BURN THEM. INCINERATE THEM ALL. There's right and there's wrong. He chooses the wrong way with righteous admission. There's heaven and there's hell. He's already in hell, he chooses to take them all along with him. And among them all, taking her to hell would be the most delicious. The rest of them were puppets of greed but she was his, precious, envious friend. And like hell he needed friends, in hell.
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Edited by cineraria - 8 years ago
Marathi TV
