Curiosity killed the cat

For Joseph the inn was his home. It was not a place to refresh and move on, but to stay and ponder on the future that was as bleak as the kettle on which he simmered tea for the souls inhabiting the inn. The only son of the housekeeper, the inn was his world and beyond. He ran errands for the residents, cooked simple meals for them. He could make it fancy, if the benefactor decided to reward him accordingly. The forlorn souls of the inn enmeshed in mundane were too busy to notice his entrepreneurial instincts. As a result, khichdi, daliya were the staple foods served at the inn. Not that the recipients had any complaints. Inn was just a stop-over. What they ate for a night didn’t make any difference to them except to the ones who lived there, including Joseph. The bland food had coloured his life in multiple shades of grey. The only exception to the monochrome tones came in the company of Rachel. Just like him the inn was home for her too. The grand-daughter of the solitary security guard who could barely guard himself at the ripe age of 65, she was like a breath of fresh air in the dilapidated inn. Like a brook, she brought joys to all san prejudice or malice.

Joseph looked forward to her arrival. Sipping the mundane masala tea, in her company beneath the shady mango tree brought him immense joy. His heart bloomed and the gloominess evaporated a bit from his life. Rachel to looked forward to their togetherness, but for a different reason. She was enticed by the mirror, placed in the centre of the house that allowed the inhabitants to attend to their vanity before leaving the precincts of the inn.  While Joseph simmered the tea, she stood before the mirror to catch unhurried glances of herself. The grapevine suggested that the mirror was a gift to the inn-owner from a man of the nether world. 

Why would someone accept such a gift too. Rachel wondered.

'Do such people exist in the real life too?' The curiosity got the better of her and she asked Joseph. Casually. Just like that. The one query that you wish to get off your mind.

It was a dull evening. Beneath   the shade of the mango tree, he blew ringlets of smoke.

By the looks of it, he was not  happy with the query. She let it go. Certainly, it was not true. She concluded and struggled to reconcile with the monochrome shades of grey. 

Encased in the most intricate wooden carving, it was the most beautiful mirror, she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many. Ugly, tiny, stained mirrors encased in black peeling metal that could cut the finger of careless lookers dominated her world. More than the mirror, she admired the image that preened at her. Lovingly, she caressed her pale complexion, dove-like eyes and lush berry lips.

‘What a waste!’ She sighed.  

Joseph caught her reflection and gave her an air kiss from the kitchen where he was hovering over the bubbling tea, lest it should spill. Not that he cared about the spic and span kitchen. Smeared with oil and turmeric spills all over, his kitchen was as messy as it could be. But he was short of milk and he had no desire to cut down the quantity of tea he sipped. It tasted divine in the presence of Rachel. She was an angel. She doesn’t belong here. Like him!  The inn was a place for morose souls. They would suffocate her.

‘I want to sample the real world.’ Rachel spoke aloud to her reflection reverberating his thoughts. Before my beauty withers away!

 ‘Each time you stand before the mirror, you get lost in a different world. I begin to feel that you are not with me,’ Joseph grumbled as he balanced the steaming two hot cups of masala chai in his hands.

‘This is just a mirror, albeit a big one,’ Joseph agreed reluctantly as he sat comfortably in the shade of the mango tree.

‘You will never know what the mirror means to me,’ Rachel was sad. The sparkle of her eyes dimmed. Joseph’s heart skipped a beat.

‘A mirror is a mirror,’ he smirked. Rachel stayed quiet. No one would understand her predicament. She wanted colours in her world, the most vibrant ones, not the gloomy shades of grey.

‘Okay! Come with me,’ Joseph commanded. His voice was as crisp as the morning air. He entwined his hand with Rachel ignoring her protests and led her to the mirror.

‘Touch it,’ he ordered. His voice was a whisper.

Rachel obeyed. Gingerly she touched the glossy surface of the mirror. It cracked. The depression grew wider sucking her hand inside it.

Rachel shrieked in horror. Joseph’s eyes glinted of unadulterated evil.

He tore the crack wider with his bare hands. Blood dripped on the floor. He was unmindful of it. 

‘This is the stairway to hell,’ he proclaimed.

Inside a gaggle of forlorn souls hooted for her. They were impatient for her to join their tribe.

'They are the people who were too busy to say a kind word to me, while going about their mundane routine. For whom inn was a just a stop -over and who didn't care for me,' he spat.

Rachel refused to register his words. It couldn't be true. They had shared so many evenings together. He is her sole companion.

But he just now cracked the mirror open!

'I can go in and come out at my will. I am the master of the mirror. I am the one who brought it here,'

'You are evil,' she acknowledged with gloom.

 'Yes, I am,' he accepted. 'Like two sides of the coin goodness and evil co-exist. I am the one who makes you realise the brighter side of life by giving you glimpses of the darker side of the world.' He was getting philosophical.

Cutting his thoughts short, he said, 'Don't get me wrong. I don't belong to your world but I am in love with the liveliness of this world.' He expressed his agony. The pain that seared his soul.

'Can he love?' Rachel thought. 

'Yes, he did. May be a reflection, just like the mirror.'

'Please let me go.' She begged exploiting the only opportunity that existed. 

Welcome to my world. Joseph pushed her in.

The crack closed trapping in Rachel.