I stand dark and looming , looking more ominous in the evening light than I actually am. The trees surrounding me seem to almost grow out of me. I know I have a reputation in the neighborhood of being dangerous. Very few people actually dare to visit me. I revel in the darkness and the solitude that have defined me over the years.

I don’t know if my creator meant me to be the way I am. He invested in my strength giving me little by way of beauty.

The land around the canal was a marsh many years ago when I was born. He bought the land at a throwaway price and began creating me. A man who had made his money abroad he had moved into this town to settle down. He did not want anything to do with the local population in the town who he considered to be inferior to himself. He wanted to keep the “world out” and I did a great job ensuring that. His wife was as frightened of the world as he was suspicious of it. So I drew her into my protective arms promising to keep her safe There are very few windows on my thick walls. The few that do exist are  like slits, more for people inside to view the world without being observed. He then planted trees around me to keep me hidden from the rest of the world. He used to refer to me lovingly as his fortress.. I was proud that I was able to keep the world out of his life.

I thrived, absorbing the melancholia of my creator and his wife. It seeped into my walls like the dampness of the marshy land over which I stood.

There were servants who came in to work. I loved the hard time I gave them. My floors were rough and difficult to scrub. My slit like windows were challenges to dust and the area around me filled with piles of dried leaves from the trees that dropped endlessly. But I guess poverty forces people to take on challenges..! They came in , met their daily challenge of keeping me clean and ran away as soon as that was done.

Over the years, this world around me changed but I did not . The small town grew , bursting with more and more people. The small lane outside became a big road with heavy traffic but my dark world continued to be a cocoon for my residents. The thick canopy of trees kept me hidden from the eyes of the people who lived in the high rises that had cropped up around me. Like before, no one dared approach me , fearing the aura I exuded. I stood as before, enveloped in the darkness and the dank musty odor emanating from within my four walls.

There were fewer people who came in to clean. I suppose poverty was not as desperate as it was in  those  days.

But it all changed when the one who created me died. It was a strange experience for me to suddenly have people come into the house for the funeral. I wanted it all to be over soon. I hated the intrusion into my privacy…!! There were bits of conversation that I overheard. They were telling his wife to sell me. “ You cannot live here alone.” “Give it to a builder to turn it into a block of flats. You will get an apartment free and a lot of money”. But her fear of the world and anything that suggested change saved me from this unsolicited advice.

However, I was not prepared for the decision that she took after a few months. She decided to invite her nephew and his wife to come and make their home here.

I was furious!! After sixty odd years she was letting strangers into my life! How dare she !!! Were my thick walls not enough protection for her? Did she think that I was just a brick and cement entity? I knew I was more than that. I had power that most humans ignored. I had my own set of energy with which I could battle. And I knew I had nearly five decades of negative energy stored up within my walls to oust anyone from within it.

It was only a matter of time…….

( to be continued)


7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. KP
    Dec 07, 2014 @ 20:57:29

    A different type of story this one.I am unable to guess how the story would move.
    Why is the house so possessive of the lonely inmate?Will wait for you to unfold the story.


  2. Christopher Vasanth
    Dec 07, 2014 @ 21:59:04

    The personification of a building sounds different – a bit eerie perhaps. Sounds a bit like a bio of the building you live in. It sure gives an unusual perspective to something that is not given the attention it deserves.


    • Meera
      Dec 19, 2014 @ 20:22:38

      CV yes, the building here is as ugly as the one I live in 🙂 ( though real estate people might speak differently). But the similarity ends there ( hopefully)


  3. Joti Verma
    Dec 07, 2014 @ 22:30:44

    waiting eagerly for the remaining part of the story


  4. shreya
    Feb 10, 2015 @ 11:22:17

    Very nicely written both the parts are awesome. Nice write up. Thank u for the blogs that u post as they are just superb.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: