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Natasha watched the interview on the television with a growing interest. Her large saucer shaped eyes had dark shadows underneath, indicating yet another sleepless night, despite her sedatives. So that was Fatima the self acclaimed ‘Witch’. Well she appeared more like the aunt next door. Fifty something, her long hair hung loose on her shoulders and she wore a light coloured saree. A large silver pendant of a hemispherical shape with a large moonstone hung on her neck with a black string. Nothing unusual. Only her eyes; they gave the impression of serenity and wisdom. Then suddenly she smiled as her interviewer asked about her celebrity clients. Yes, Natasha with her unerring instinct knew that despite her pretences, the witch also suffered from the same insecurities as all the humans she wanted to, ‘heal’. Fatima was saying in a dulcet tone, ‘that people had a misconception about witches. They only wanted to heal and with their ancient knowledge tried to remove the imbalances of life. Witches seek to heal and to help all of Life, and when we are working for "the good of all", it is natural that the "good" will come to us also.’ Well she could give this witch a try, may be she would be able to help her thought Natasha. Everything else had failed. Hope stirred in her heart and she picked up the phone. A soft obsequious tap and her ever-obliging secretary entered the room. The interviewer droned on about a web site and a book written by Fatima on the myths and mysteries surrounding witches. Natasha pointed silently towards the T.V. and commanded, “ Get me an appointment with her.” The secretary a middle-aged balding man in his many years of association was used to all kinds of strange requests from his employer and he remained expressionless. “Fatima lives in Delhi madam”, was a statement and a question as well. The beautifully arched eyebrows shot up, “So?” He just nodded his head in compliance and left the room softly. This brought her to think of Upansu. Who had been a simple Sulemaan Khan to begin with. Acting changed him to take on the name Upansu Kumar. Where was he she wondered, dragging herself up with difficulty? Must be with that Zaheeda. She felt like throwing up at the thought of that tall, dark buxom woman. It was rumoured that she had a son who many claimed was Upansu’s. Her eyes traveled to her flat, tight stomach and she sighed with disappointment. How proud she used to be of her perfect figure. Natasha was the first to start the trend of wearing bikinis in Hindi films. She just loved to flaunt her body. Men just drooled over her navel. She was the ultimate pin-up girl. She had no dearth of admirers. Each and every film of hers would be a box office hit. She had been christened ‘The Enchantress’ by the press. Her looks were truly angelic, soft curly hair framed a perfectly oval face. A tip tilted nose and a rosebud mouth completed the picture. When she smiled a shadow of a dimple enhanced it further. Life had been good; she was the pampered darling of the nation. Why then did she chase Upansu, a man twice her age? Natasha’s mind traveled back to those halcyon years when Upansu was the heartthrob of the masses. The black and white films only accentuated his silent grief when the heroine betrayed him. His lopsided smile made her heart beat that much faster when he smiled mesmerizingly into the actress’s eyes. Natasha was wildly happy when she finally signed a film with the great ‘Upansu’! He had just looked at her quizzically and treated her like a kid. It went without saying that he enjoyed her wide-eyed adoration. He was twice her age and to her relief still an eligible bachelor. She turned a deaf ear and a blind eye to all his ‘affairs’. Her justification that nobody had been able to ensnare him! What about the rumours of his ugly temper and the mean dealings. Natasha would give the example of Farzana, a struggling actress whose mother’s medical bills Upansu had paid. He was generous; all his donations to charitable organizations were well published. His indifference only heightened her desire to possess him. Natasha’s mother had been alarmed initially and tried to dissuade her but when Upansu suddenly turned the charming admirer, she was also bewitched. What had Upansu thought about her then, wondered Natasha? She had been too busy posing for the deliriously happy pictures splashed in all the film magazines and even the staid daily newspapers to bother. It was after all the hue and cry had died down that the true meaning of her action began to dawn on her. Upansu the man was very different from the one portrayed on the screen. Her baby face crumpled up in rage and humiliation as she remembered the first time she had unknowingly stumbled on his ‘harem’. The women had openly jeered at her ‘innocence’. Upansu had been quite indifferent to her tantrums. When Natasha had threatened to walk out on him, Upansu had said quietly, “ It will really be much more painful for you.” It was not a threat, just a statement of facts. She had been so open about flaunting the fact that she was the only Mrs.Upansu Kumar. And certainly it had its privileges, the power of money, adulation. Well she was familiar with both, but as a woman married to one of the most successful actors of the age it was just that much more, plus the halo of a married woman bestowed by a society, which treated unmarried women as a plaything and an outcaste. Natasha had swallowed her pride and anger with difficulty and displaying the grit and determination she was famous for had played the role of a woman much in love with her husband. But living out a role had taken it’s toll. Natasha had however driven a bargain; Upansu would never marry again. She had remained satisfied with the arrangements till Nandini an editor of a film magazine had whispered the rumours of Zaheeda the tall sultry ex-model. She had been married to some army officer, Natasha recalled who was also related to Upansu. Natasha had been used to the open adoration of these women in social gatherings, but there was something quite electric about these two. Nandini had warned of a deeper relationship. With Upansu a man who lived only for himself? A person who could not sustain interest in a woman beyond a few months? It was rumoured that the ageing actor had wanted a progeny desperately. Natasha it was well known was incapable of delivering the goods. Maybe, Zaheeda who was young enough to be his granddaughter inspired some hope. Her long suppressed rage surfaced and Upansu just viewed her with supreme unconcern, yawned and turned away. It was then that she decided to play her final hand. The next day’s papers carried the copy of Upansu’s marriage with Zaheeda and Natasha’s declaration of divorce. It brought forth a swift reaction. She had been on target. There were wild stories of Natasha’s indiscretions. Her incapacity to produce an heir. Her constant forays into films after her marriage. Through the entire storm she just maintained her stand, no second marriage. Finally, Upansu conceded defeat and the woman disappeared. It was truce of sorts and although Zaheeda was not publicly acknowledged, she remained there firmly holding on to the man. Natasha knew that this outcome was not out of any affection for her, but that Upansu Kumar harboured political ambitions. It would not go down well with the masses that he had deserted his wife of many years. “Can aging be reversed? Why does god let us grow old and weak? Why is there so much pain?” Natasha’s questions were more a plea to Fatima. Both the women eyed each other like battle weary soldiers. The response from the self proclaimed witch had been quick. Each was assessing the other as to how much benefit she could extract from the other. “ God has planned the strength and beauty of youth to be physical. But the strength of age is spiritual. We gradually lose the strength and beauty that is temporary so we will be sure to concentrate on the strength and beauty, which is forever. We will be eager to leave the temporary for our eternal home and if we stayed young and beautiful, we might never want to leave,” intoned Fatima in a husky voice, smiling faintly. She realized that Natasha despite her still innocent baby looks was frightened of ageing as countless other actors and actresses before her had been. She almost anticipated her request. Natasha opened her eyes a little more widely and stated speculatively, “ The latest scientific discoveries deal with delaying death in fact a person can live for over two hundred years.” Fatima’s eyes grew a velvety black and she whispered, “There is no beginning, there is no end, there is only the infinite passion for life.” A slight tightening of the lips and Natasha shook her head in annoyance, “We are not getting any where.” Fatima looked at her with compassion, “What is it that causes you so much distress?” Natasha decided to take the plunge. “ Can you make me remain young and beautiful forever? I read your book that you cast spells to harness positive energy and make people fall in love.” Fatima shuddered; there was so much greed and violence in Natasha’s statement. Her voice was just barely a whisper, “ Then you also know about the Law of Three. Basically, this is the natural law of "cause and effect". The Goddess charges us to exercise great care in all that we, as Witches, do and say and even think. The Threefold Law takes the notion that "what we reap, we will sow", a few steps further…in fact, THREE steps further. For what we do "for good or for ill, shall be returned to us threefold." In light of this fact, Witches are loath to cause any harm, lest it be returned to them in spades!” “Who or what are you harming by making me young and desirable?” Natasha was petulant and felt that some headway had been made and she could possibly get a bargain. “You will probably be doing a lot of good for my fans and possibly get a three-fold blessing in return, she added triumphantly. I quote again from your web site ‘for the good of all and the harm of none.’ Besides Sulemaan saheb can arrange for the Rajya Sabha nomination we had heard you had wanted.” Natasha’s eyes gleamed with delight. She knew she had zeroed in on Fatima’s weakness. Fatima was beginning to feel a little breathless; her old asthmatic problem was making its reappearance. She began coughing, suppressing it initially, but finally giving in to it’s violent spasms. Natasha was irritated, just when they were reaching a point of understanding this Witch had to go red in her face coughing like an old patient of tuberculosis. How awful she looked, tears streaming out of her eyes and then she began to choke. The prominent sharp nose all red, the eyes all screwed up, the mouth open showing a huge big black gap. Natasha left the room, in a hurry asking the person at the outer office to go in. As she waited Natasha recollected how she had played the waif thin girl plagued with illness after being torn from her lover by a strict father. How she had coughed in her illness, but then she was adorable, just picture perfect. The man appeared a little distraught, “Fatima madam has cancelled all her appointments for the day.” “ But I didn’t finish my session with her,” Natasha was clearly annoyed. “Madam, you can call up tomorrow and fix another appointment.” The actress debated whether she should totally drop this woman. There should be no dearth of these sorts of women. However, experience told her that Fatima had the prowess and the others had been from the dubious underworld of untrustworthy people. Well she would try her luck again. Peering from behind the curtains, Fatima saw the huge black Opel Astra car sweep away from the driveway with relief. She always picked up her client’s vibrations. Her asthma was sensitive to people. If she was near a person she disliked it came on virulently. She was psychosomatic. It had taken years of self-control and rigorous discipline and use of old forgotten medicinal herbs to be rid of it. Now Natasha’s presence had triggered it off. Fatima repeated mentally, I must never meet her. Try and avoid her at all cost. She will lead me to my destruction. All these thoughts flashed by in her mind. Fatima slowly went over what all she had been taught as a young witch … Witches have a deep and abiding knowledge of the workings of the Universe. All things are connected to all other things- we are related to all Life, the Earth and the Stars. We know that all that we do affects everything else in the Web of Life. We are very conscious of this responsibility. We are known as "The Craft of the Wise" because of our knowledge of energies and the natural and spiritual laws that govern the workings of the Universe. To work within these laws is wisdom; to work against them is chaos. Because we hold this knowledge, we know and are willing to accept responsibility for our actions and what will result from them. Fatima drew a deep breath and felt a lot calmer. How did she know that my name had been suggested for the Rajya Sabha nomination? Probably it was public news as the person who had floated it was an influential film financier. Fatima had been able to help his son get out of an old drug addiction habit. And that had opened up all her latent ambitions… Ah yes, she would certainly like to sit in the parliament. The insistent trilling of her mobile broke Natasha’s reverie. Switching it on she looked at the familiar number, “Hello, Nandini?” A sobbing voice replied, “ Natasha, Mamma’s in the hospital. Papa’s told me that she has gone. We have lost her.” So it was Sidharth, Nandini’s twelve-year old son, trying to reach out to her, one of the few friends of his mother. Her mind whirled, she couldn’t comprehend, how, when, why. Slowly, it hit her. Nandini young barely into her forties, a well established editor of a film magazine. Memories of a sunlit morning and aroma of strong black coffee and two girls giggling. Nandini had begun her career as a film journalist by interviewing Natasha whose first film was waiting to be released. They had both taken an intense liking to each other. As Natasha grew more popular and she married Upansu Kumar, a general coolness had developed between the two. Particularly after Nandini had written that Upansu had married Natasha as he was fast approaching his sell-by date. She had followed it up by publishing the photographs of all the women Upansu had, had an affair with. The reason of the break up and a short profile of each woman. She had ended with a hope that Natasha would be his last one. Generally well liked, in a world which had no time or place for deep relationships, Nandini had a large number of well-wishers, friends and a very affectionate husband and son. Natasha was picture perfect in a designer white kurta-churidaar ensemble. Head bowed, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. She held Siddarth close to her. She noted that all the important people in the film industry and the publishing house had arrived. Natasha was glad that Upansu had also accompanied her, setting to rest many a wagging tongue. Her heart was heavy as almost every one was shocked at the sudden premature end to such a vital, happy fun loving person. Despite the many ups and downs in her relationship with Noddy as Natasha called her; of late they had become close again, laughing at the world together. Life appeared at once meaningless and futile. What was the point of chasing such transitory things like physical beauty? More wealth, endless pursuit of power? Sitting in the shadows of her room, her drink half finished, she heard her door open and Upansu entered. The room was immediately lit up as he switched on all the lights. Natasha ran to him, he appeared for once like her hero of old; as he held her in silent compassion. She would drop all that ‘witch business’. What was the use any way when you are not sure when you will be taken away. A major cardiac arrest for some one so young and healthy was just a medical term for what god had willed. “Never leave me alone and go Upansu, murmured Natasha brokenly. I am really frightened of being left behind.” “No, no never you don’t have to worry.” She felt at peace, maybe Nandini’s death would bring them together. Shattering the silence, the phone rang, Natasha looked up annoyed, “Don’t pick it up.” Just then Farooque (Upansu’s Man-Friday) came in even without knocking, and held the cordless. “Trainer saheb ka”, he announced. Natasha knew instinctively that Trainer was the code word used for Zaheeda. Upansu’s personal trainer would not dare to call up with such impunity. She moved away feeling abandoned. “Hanh, yes, kya hua?” Upansu sounded worried. He clicked the phone shut and turned to say, “I will be back after a while.” Natasha forlornly pressed the key to check from which number the call had come. Yes it was Zaheeda’s mobile number. They were faceless, yet Natasha could sense their mocking laughter. They surrounded her on all sides. She felt naked, exposed, and vulnerable as she tried to weakly chase them away. “Madam, kya hua?” As Natasha focused her eyes on the anxious face of her secretary, she tried to speak but couldn’t. “Should I call the doctor?” He asked, appearing a little relieved to see her open her eyes. “I just had a bad dream, she stated shortly. Just get an appointment with Fatima.” Humiliation, rage and a feeling of impotency overwhelmed her. Fatima looked wearily at Natasha. She had been persuasive. The Witch appeared pale and apprehensive as she watched the Enchantress, brush away the lone tear from her round saucer shaped eyes. “What you seek is revenge.” Natasha looked up her lips quivered a little, “ No, no I desire to harm no one. It’s just that I feel I have so much more of acting years left in me. And you know how in our industry if you show the first signs of aging you are slotted a mother’s role even to actor’s who are older to you!” Fatima drew a deep breathe, she knew that she was walking into something she would not be able to extricate herself from. An inner voice told her, ‘run, run’, yet she couldn’t move. Natasha had stirred her dormant passion for politics. She had promised her the Rajya Sabha nomination. Suleman saheb had to only to back her candidature and she was through. “The new moon starts four days from today. You have to be here by seven in the evening, commanded the Witch. The waxing moon is the best time to do a spell for growth, initiation and enhancement.” “Suleman saheb will get back to you today,” Natasha replied allowing a ghost of a smile. The famous lop-sided smile that drove men crazy. “Why Fatima?” Upansu was looking at her quizzically. “Well, she approached me through a common friend. She has done so much good work, look Rahul, Morani’s son was completely cured of drug addiction. Morani saheb has also produced so many films of yours…” “ So? He was just earning his living. My films always brought him handsome returns.” Natasha tried a different track, “ Syed and Anwar don’t they manage your finances?” A thick eyebrow shot up, “Since when have you become their advocate? Why don’t you come to the point, Tasha. What spell did you want her to put on me? You know I happen to be your slave, even with out it.” Natasha was surprised, Upansu had called her Tasha. It was a name or more an endearment in the initial years of her marriage, which was used by him. Was more trouble brewing on the Zaheeda front? Natasha just nodded her head and eyes brimming with unshed tears held him tightly, “ Suleman, I have had no peace for the last several years. Knowing that you are so anxious for an heir. How people mock me. I have left no Mandir, Masjid and Dargah in which I have not prayed for a son. She has promised me one.” That was quick thinking on her part. Upansu held her away a little and looked intently. “She wants the Rajya Sabha nomination,” Natasha whispered clinging on to Upansu. “Don’t worry it will be done.” Natasha walked into Fatima’s clinic with her swaying swan like gait in the evening with a smile on her lips. Her eyes appeared luminous and she emanated radiance, which was almost magical. Fatima wrapped in a long black cloak over a white costume looked as if she had stepped out of some old Hindi black and white film, playing the role of the wicked mother-in-law. Their eyes met in silence. “You don’t really need my services,” droned Fatima. A smile and a slight inclination of her head and Natasha acknowledged the compliment. “The Moon has always seemed a mysterious and powerful force to people everywhere. She moves the tides and guides the flow of magical energies,” intoned the Witch watching Natasha stare at the sliver of the moon. “The waxing Moon is the best time to do a spell for growth, beginning new projects, initiation and enhancement. The three days after the New Moon are the most powerful times to work spells for growth and beginnings, which should manifest at the Full Moon. The days just before the Full Moon are the most powerful times for fruition and completion,” continued Fatima appearing more and more alien to Natasha as she watched her enthralled. “All spells that we actually perform are directed to a very specific end, developed after much thought and should always end with the phrase "for the good of all and the harm of none". No one here on this earth can possibly be sure of all the possibilities which fall under "the good of all", but by asking that the spell be performed under this guideline, we save ourselves and others a lot of unnecessary trouble. If it is indeed "for the good of all", it will come to pass,” Fatima concluded. Natasha sat silently in the shadows and observed Fatima standing tall and lonely a brooding silhouette in the dark. The rosy radiance of the dawn could be felt as Fatima wrapped up her work. Natasha felt a lightness of being; she wasn’t walking any longer, just gliding by. Her heart brimmed over with happiness. Yes, yes even without looking in the mirror Natasha knew she was her sixteen-year-old self. Improved, sophisticated and glamorous. She had been repackaged; all she had to do was relaunch her career. She would be careful, doing select few films, after all most would know that she was closer to the forties than twenties. Her head was full of new ideas and projects. “A last word of advice. No late nights, vegetarian diet, yoga and aerobics. You can probably keep this shell till you die,” commanded Fatima. Natasha nodded her head in assent and almost flew to her car and zoomed off on the still dark road. * * * * * “Wow! Natasha this haircut really suits you!” exclaimed Shantanu the ace photographer. He could not hide his real pleasure and amazement. He had been in this profession for more than two decades. Shantanu was used to all the cosmetic tricks used by the aging actors and actresses from revealing any tale-tell signs of time. Hair weaving, nose jobs, necklines and liposuction and the latest use of Botox injections; to remove the lines, which aged the face and neck. But in the end time could not be eradicated. This was impressive, Natasha looked like a nubile young thing! The innocent large round eyes, the vulnerable soft large lower lip a tip tilted nose presented a perfect picture of a young girl in the threshold of her womanhood. All eager and surprised at her own buxom body. Natasha smiled softly, fighting hard not to succumb to her exhilarating joy. “I met this wonderful stylist in London. He suggested I try out this shoulder length feather cut. It is versatile I can put it up in a bun also,” she added as an afterthought. “You will have to name this hairstylist, plus your trainer as well as the secret of this pure youthful looks. You will be in great demand, not only in films but also for these beauty-tips,” commented Shantanu. “When will I get to see the proofs?” “Mmm… latest by Tuesday.” “That long, I can’t wait, Natasha added petulantly pouting a little. “Alright neither can I, Sunday then.” “Madam’s busy in a story session, you will have to wait,” the bespectacled secretary informed the young film journalist, a little contemptuously. After the eleventh attempt, and with dogged perseverance, Anushree managed to get her interview. Natasha smiled, a gamine dimple lit up her face. The young journalist was floored. This actress emanated such joyfulness; it was impossible to be even angry or irritated. Besides, Anushree was amazed at the youthful peaches and cream complexion. In reality Natasha looked more beautiful than even the pictures! They wrapped up the photo-shoot in a friendly and cheerful mood. However, it was a livid Natasha who turned over the pages of the glossy magazine. There she was a curly headed sixteen year old from one of her earliest films then to older coquettish face in her later day film and the last one was the latest they had taken only a month back. The caption read, “Has Natasha been able to turn the clock back?” She read the ensuing story. It concluded by stating that it was not physically or scientifically possible for Natasha to appear so young. In fact they had even published her blood test reports taken a year back and one Sonography report of her uterus to sustain their claim. They had also published her latest health tests to indicate that now her body was that of a sixteen year old! Wait she will take the private medical hospital to court for making her reports public! It went on to claim that Natasha was desperate for a child and may have resorted to some sort of magic for her ends. Tears of rage and humiliation filled her eyes. All these days her face had adorned various health magazines, giving advice on life-style changes. She had been on various talk shows and interviews smiling gently, eyes shining bright and emanating the vivaciousness of a teen-ager. Upansu’s questioning stare held her from rushing to the phone. As she looked up he said in a quiet voice, “I have backed Fatima for the Rajya Sabha nomination.” “ I am glad, she had called up several times,” replied Natasha. “I hope she does not mention you as one of her glamorous and celebrity client. You know she has the habit of name-dropping.” Their eyes met in tacit understanding. In fact Upansu had been behaving like the old admirer she had known before marriage. Natasha had felt a thrill, a missed heartbeat, might be now the Zaheeda chapter would be forgotten. “ You know, you shouldn’t let these film magazines upset you. Besides, nobody believes them. If you want I can call up their owner and tell them to publish an apology.” Why was he showing so much concern? Had he really begun caring about her? “ No, no what’s the point, Nasrani will probably harass you and write nasty things about you instead. You remember, his magazine first published the Nikah-nama of …” Natasha trailed off, realizing she had said too much without thinking. Upansu looked levelly at her, “ Since you have brought it up. Sikander has been adopted by me.” She was shocked, “ How can you do this to me?” Her mind was in a whirl. So now it was all official she could do nothing about it. The brat was called Sikander. She had heard references to a Honey. “ How do you know he is yours,” she heard her voice cracking. Upansu just raised his eyebrows and walked out. There was an all-enveloping darkness. She wanted to cry, beat her breasts, kill Upansu and that woman in turns. Yet that volcanic outflow was all dammed up. Instead ‘they’ came dancing in a mad glee. Recharged, and somehow more numerous and malevolent to torment her. There was no escaping them. She was choking and her throat was parched. She had nowhere to go, she was being asphyxiated slowly… “Madam, madam, kya hua? She has got that fainting fit again.” A number of faces were peering down at her as Natasha slowly opened her eyes. Her doctor arrived giving strict orders for rest. But Natasha was scared of being left alone, mortally scared of being attacked by ‘them’. She weakly indicated that her secretary stay on and a round the clock supervision by nurses was organized. Time the great healer, found Natasha on the phone. “Yes, I am glad your nomination to Rajya Sabha has been accepted. Now we wait for the polling day. Yes and just one little thing, that child what’s-his-name has been adopted by Upansu.” Fatima’s voice was guarded, “ Ji I read it in some magazine.” The call was disconnected. Fatima frowned into distant space. Had she been right in getting involved in Natasha’s life? Words long memorized and understood as a witch come to haunt her… We know that all that we do affects everything else in the Web of Life. We are very conscious of this responsibility. We are known as "The Craft of the Wise" because of our knowledge of energies and the natural and spiritual laws that govern the workings of the Universe. To work within these laws is wisdom; to work against them is chaos. Because we hold this knowledge, we know and are willing to accept responsibility for our actions and what will result from them. We do not believe in a fictional devil that "made us do it". She cheered up at the prospect of becoming an M.P. Everything was worth all the effort, only a few days to go for the results. She smiled a little to herself. “ Suleman Bhai, did you read the papers?” The drawling voice held a note of urgency. The aging actor tried to sit up, “ No, what?” “ Fatima has been defeated.” A momentary silence followed as the actor tried to assimilate the information. “Kya Hua Asif?” Natasha looked anxious, “ Your men have cross voted. They had wanted Karim Bhai to get the nomination and were sore when you backed Fatima. And Karim Bhai has no problems in spending money even if it is to get your candidate defeated. You know this will make Fatima really upset.” Fatima sitting in semi-darkness was trying her best to control the wild rage that rocked her. She knew that if she succumbed to them then there would be no going back. She whispered to herself, “We know how to deflect harm without inflicting harm. We "neutralize" harmful energies back into the Universe to be converted to pure forces that CEASE to do any harm at all. We are protecting ourselves and the effects of the "bad" energies do no further damage to anyone.” Nothing seemed to soothe her embittered spirit. Fatima had taken her disappointment in not getting elected to the Rajya Sabha rather badly. Her phone rang shrilly invading into her thoughts, “Yes?” “Fatima, I am so sorry…” She recognized Natasha’s young teenaged voice. There was a momentary silence then Fatima the witch replied, “You will be sorrier before the day is out.” “Remember the ‘Law of Three’ you had told me about?” Then the phone went dead. Well she would get even with that angel-faced two-timing enchantress. The large sprawling farmhouse was lit up and sounds of laughter pervaded the night sky. Upansu Kumar was the center of much lighthearted anecdotes. The few people his age were openly envious of his evergreen athletic good looks. The younger women were fawning on him and he was like a cat with bowl of cream. Fatima sitting in the darkened corner, her eyes glittering with barely concealed hate watched as Natasha moved swiftly into the darkness. A soft touch startled her. “ So, you decided on revenge, Fatima? Must I point out that while Witches are free to influence energies to accomplish a purpose, they are not free to manipulate people. "For the good of all" should be the real reason one does a spell.” “You can read your sermon elsewhere. You, who has used every body and anybody for your pleasure are not really in a position to preach.” Natasha was pleading, “During the Krishna paksha, do spells to banish evil influences, lessen or remove obstacles and illness, neutralize enemies, and to remove harm. The amavasya is the most auspicious time for banishing and neutralizing spells. You remember that don’t you?” “ These forces are now beyond my control, even if I tried I can’t stop the roll of the juggernaut.” The film magazines lay strewn all over the house. All carried the cover story of the film land’s first couple’s remarkable changeover. There were photos inside showing them a year ago with double chins and a sagging waistline. The latest photos were of a couple in the prime of youth. Perfect young bodies laughing into the cameras. The papers went wild with speculation on Natasha having discovered some magical elixir had passed it on to Upansu. The others whispered black magic. Natasha was alarmed at the rumours that went in the city. Young heroes in fact fled the room once she entered it and even her old directors and producers appeared distinctively uncomfortable and looked for the first opportunity to flee. The report also carried the actual date of birth of Upansu and speculated on hers from the first film where she had claimed to be a fifteen year old. That made her nearer to fifty and Upansu, seventy. Where was Upansu? Natasha rang the bell; a frightened looking young maid appeared. “Saheb kahan hai?” Her old secretary had long since abandoned the post, after she had once shrieked hysterically that he had ‘talked’ to the press about Fatima. ‘The word "just" is defined as" that which is merited or deserved." We are assured that what is merited by a person actions, will come to pass. We need only to ask the God and Goddess for "justice to be done". Since this is in line with natural laws and the promises of the Ancient Ones, we can rest in the knowledge that we are asking in a correct manner for the situation to be taken care of. Then we can release it to them to handle and go about our business.’ These thoughts hummed in Fatima’s mind as she read the article in the film magazine about Upansu’s carousals. The photograph aptly summed it all. An arrogant young man who was both surprised and amused at the sudden turn of fate and surrounded by a bevy of beauties. Upansu did not waste his time on speculations. He was making up for lost time; each day began as if there was no tomorrow. When asked by other envious men as to how he had managed such a glorious change, he laughed and spoke of kismet. He had never been happier in his life, why bother thinking about how it came about, when it may just vanish in a moment. He was at an age when he understood the fleeting and transient nature of this world. So there were drinking binges and wild mad parties. He found younger and sophisticated girls just throwing themselves at him. Young men eager to get a role or a break in cinema joined in with enthusiasm. Money and the fact that he only had to nod to a producer to make or break a career found him encircled by these fawning youths. Did he ever suffer from twinges of conscience? Yes, for a man who was born without one, surprisingly young Rosanne made him remember his almost non-existent conscience. She was just fourteen, tall, lithe, buxom and confident that she would conquer the world with her first film. She had been renamed an exotic Meneka. He felt a fatherly feeling of protectiveness. She was much pampered and petted and her every wish granted. He even promised to do a film with her as his heroine. As he lay waiting for her in the pool, he saw the clouds gather overhead. Well what a relief! Bombay just before the monsoon is unbearable, he normally left for a long holiday in the hills or Europe. This year, Natasha had a hectic programme filled for the television serial she was acting in, and more importantly he couldn’t have had a better holiday anywhere else. As he gazed idly at them the gray shape reminded him of an old woman in rags. Why did it make him uncomfortable? A sudden flash of lightening, did he see a woman with malevolent eyes peer out? The hair in the back of his neck arched up. The evening sky darkened and he was aware of an impending danger… Natasha, opened the door of her room which led her to the well manicured lawn. Upansu had built a huge fantasy in marble for her. It was peopled only her demons. ‘They’ had increased in numbers and strength. She needed no confirmation of Menekas of this world. Her momentary delight at her regained youth had long since given way to anxiety at Upansu’s youthfulness. Fatima had worked her revenge well. She was back to her old role of an adoring wife while the world laughed and sniggered now openly on her face. Rains, the first shower after the scorching heat. Inside it was stuffy and close. Alone in the marble monstrosity, she felt she would go insane. Her minimal staff had also left, some on pretext of annual leave, never returning again. The others, claiming that they had received better pay elsewhere. She had proposed higher wages but to no avail. It was whispered that she had gone mad, having hysterical fits. The first smell of wet earth was invigorating. A sense of relief gave way to horror as she saw a bedraggled creature almost crawl across towards her. She grinned evilly, “ Remember the Law of Three? Flee, Flee before it gets Thee.” She cackled as recognition dawned on the angelic face of Natasha. “Fatima kya hua?” The face was thin long and gray like the clothes that covered her emaciated body. “Fatima, kaun Fatima?” The apparition’s laughter rendered the evening’s silence into shreds. A distant roll of thunder and a flash of lightening illuminated the garden momentarily. Natasha was aware of the many eyes watching her in the ensuing pitch darkness. Fear stalked every step she took, she must find Upansu, and maybe she would be safe there. Run, run faster a voice mocked her, she got into her car and drove to the farmhouse in the out skirts of the city. She knew instinctively that Upansu would be in the pool. In the darkness and in her hurry she stumbled on something and fell headlong. When she came around the rain had petered out into a drizzle and from the light of a poolside light she found a man sprawled besides her. She didn’t need to be told that it was Upansu and that he was dead. ‘They’ mocked fiendishly, she had nowhere to go. ‘They’ were pushing her into a dark, dark well… Morning found the place swarming with police, press and inquisitive hanger-ons. The sensational death of an evergreen hero Upansu! His wife and one-time actress Natasha completely unfocussed and unhinged. She was found trying to flee from the place. Terror and an unnamed fear never seem to leave her. Remains of another wild party! What a field day the reporters had. The newspapers and news channels were full of the life and times of this famous first couple of the Film Land. However, unobserved by most was this strange gray coloured woman cackling away to her self from time to time and who refused to be shooed away. She would enter unobtrusively and go into peals of laughter particularly whenever she saw Natasha wandering about the house… |
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