Short Story: Satish and Akhila

Sitharaam Jayakumar’s powerful story oscillates between love, desire, and the tinge of madness that follows it.

Satish stood on the terrace of his villa in a suburb of Kolkata and looked up intently at the full moon shining down upon him. He reflected on his wonderful times with his wife, Akhila. They had been so good together. But all that was in the past. Now he had to be content with this loathsome loneliness that pervaded his life day and night. He was sure no other woman could ever take Akhila’s place in his life again. They had not had any children. Satish did not plan to marry again.

Satish could visualise the beautiful and tender visage of his wife reflected on the crests and troughs of the moon’s face. It had been four years since Akhila had died. He had loved her dearly. Satish had always been a bit of a moon dreamer. He could manage to see Akhila’s face on the moon’s surface every time.

Akhila and Satish had met at the Maharana Arts Academy, where they were students. She was the prettiest girl in the class, and every boy in the college was in love with her. Satish had joined the college to learn sculpting. Akhila took painting classes. She was an extrovert to the core, full of joie de vivre, and loved being the centre of attraction. Satish, on the other hand, was an introvert who could not say gah to a goose. He was not a particularly attractive man, and naturally, he hardly caught Akhila’s eye initially. She had not even passed him a second glance the first time she had caught sight of him.