The Guest Of Honour

By Rukhsar Shafi

Rain poured down heavily, pelting it’s anger against the window. Rakesh peeked from behind the soft, cotton, lilac curtains waiting for his guests to arrive. When he felt a hand placed on his shoulder, he startled in fright. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his beautiful wife stare back at him with a slight frown in her brows but a small smile on her lips.

“What’s wrong with you?” Meenal, his wife, asked. “Are you that nervous about your manager coming home for dinner?”

Rakesh sighed, shaking his head slowly. “I guess. It’s just that he has never been nice to me or any of the other colleagues at office, so it’s a bit unnerving when he invited himself over.”

“Maybe he realized he was being mean. Wants to rectify it?” Meenal’s frown deepened.

“Could be. There has definitely been a improvement in his personality since he got married.” Rakesh chuckled. “His life did a complete 180. New car, new house. I wonder if she came from money.”

Meenal shaking her head, smacked Rakesh on the shoulder. “If you’re done lurking like a creep by the window, come help me out in the kitchen! You know I’m not exactly a great chef.”

Rakesh laughed. “Honey, I just know you won’t make anything that might poison my boss. You’ve improved since before,” he teased.

Meenal chortling, smacked him again. “If you think you’re better than me, why don’t you make dinner and I’ll stare out the window, waiting for your boss.” She turned around slightly, crossing her arms against her chest when Rakesh pulled into a back hug.

“I’m sorry. You’re an amazing chef, Meenal. But don’t you dare think about waiting for another man when I’m right here!” Rakesh kissed her shoulder.

“I would never!” She smiled sweetly. Rakesh and Meenal stared into each other’s eyes and began to close in. Just as their lips were about to touch, the ringing of the bell echoed into the house. Chuckling to themselves, Rakesh pulled away. But not before pecking her gently on her forehead.

Rakesh hurried towards the door when the second bell rang. Opening the door wide, he quickly welcomed his immediate boss, Manager Abhoy Das and his newly-wed wife, Moitreyee. “Welcome, Mr. And Mrs. Das. Come in.” Rakesh moved aside to let the guests in. “I’m sorry you had to wait a bit in the pouring rain. I hope the journey wasn’t too arduous.”

As Rakesh helped Mr. Das with his coat, Moitreyee walked into the living room. “No, no. It was fine. Though I didn’t know you lived quite far from the city,” Mr. Das said, siting beside his wife. “Now, I feel bad yelling at you whenever you would come late to office. The traffic would have been bad in the mornings.”

Rakesh chuckled sheepishly. “No, it’s fine. It’s my fault. I should leave early. The traffic isn’t so bad either.”

“You have a beautiful home, Mr. Desai,” said, Moitreyee, speaking for the first time. Rakesh glanced over at her and was taken aback. He hadn’t noticed how young she was. Not that Mr. Das was old or anything, but compared to his wife, Rakesh guessed the age difference would have been a bit much.

“Thank you, Mrs. Das. It’s all done by my beautiful wife Meenal.” Just then Meenal walked in with a tray filled with glasses of mint-lime juice. “She’s a real estate staging consultant. She’s got quite an eye for these things.”

Meenal giggled. “That’s because you can’t even differentiate between orange and red. I couldn’t leave you to decide the interior design.” The crowd erupted in fits of giggled as Rakesh blushed in embarrassment. “Thank you for coming, Mr. And Mrs. Das. Rakesh has spoken a lot about you.”

Mr. Das laughed. “I’m sure none of them are good things.”

Waving her hand, Meenal said, “That’s not true. Rakesh looks up to you. He’s quite taken by your dedication towards work and the way you handle problems at the office.”

“Thank you for letting me know that. I’m sure Rakesh might have had cursed at me too as I tend to get a little short tempered,” Mr. Das sighed. “I think I’ve changed a bit since I’ve got my blushing bride. She definitely makes me a better man.” He hugged his wife as Moitreyee giggled beside him. “She’s my lucky charm. Things are definitely looking up for me.”

“And we’re glad. I’m sorry I couldn’t congratulate you earlier,” Rakesh said.

Mr. Das shook his head. “Ah, it’s quite alright. I know what my image is at the office. The devil incarnate.” He chuckled.

Rakesh and Meenal looked at each other. “Not at all. You might be a little strict but it’s only for us to do better,” Rakesh said.

Mr. Das stared at Rakesh, dead in the eyes. There was a certain uncomfortableness in his gaze that made Rakesh uneasy. Meenal guessed the awkward vibe and quickly changed the topic. “So, shall we have dinner?”

At the table, the uneasiness didn’t fade. In fact, it grew louder. As Mr. Das and Moitreyee sat opposite to Rakesh and Meenal, Rakesh couldn’t help but notice the tension between Mr. Das and Moitreyee. Something about it unnerved Rakesh. Something he hadn’t noticed before. The colour on Mr. Das’s face seemed to have dulled. His face looked oddly gaunt and there was a slight tremble in his fingers. Had Mr. Das been sick?

Rakesh could feel his wife’s eyes at him and he knew she had noticed it too. She was too quick to grasp the nature of the situation. Meenal served the hot vegetable pulao and the kadai chicken she had prepared, slowly on Mr. Das’s plate. Rakesh noticed Moitreyee’s eerie gaze at Meenal.

“The food smells great, Mrs. Meenal. I’m sure it would taste great too,” Moitreyee said, smiling suddenly.

Meenal grinned, taking her seat beside Rakesh. “I hope so. I’ve done my best to prepare it extremely well.”

“So, Mrs. Desai, how did you and our boy Rakesh meet?” Mr. Das asked, after complimenting Meenal for her food.

Rakesh smiled sheepishly again and Meenal laughed. “It’s actually a funny story.” With that she began narrating the events of how they met.

The night went on without any problems and the Das’s roared with laughter with Rakesh and Meenal. The couples moved back to the living room when Rakesh pulled out a bottle of Apaltagua Reserve red wine from the bar counter. Pouring the smoky wine in four wine tumblers, he served them to his guests with the side of cheese and crackers that Meenal had prepared.

Mr. Das swirled the drink slowly and sniffed it. “It’s got an intense tobacco smell. Dark yet fragrant.” And with that he took a small sip, washing his palate with the taste. “It’s quite good. Nice choice, Rakesh.”

Rakesh’s face turned red. “Thank you, sir.”

“Expensive choices,” Moitreyee commented. Meenal frowned. But Moitreyee noticed she had spoken out of context. “I’m terribly sorry if I offended you. I just happened to notice the alcohol bottles at your bar. Glenlivet, Ballantines, Talisker, Moet&Chandon, these are quite expensive brands.”

“You know your alcohol,” Meenal stated.

“I used to manage a bar back in Calcutta. That’s where I met Abhoy,” Moitreyee revealed sweetly.

“That’s right. My sweet Moitreyee was a business owner. Though now, she’s taking a break. Isn’t that right, sweety?” Mr. Das asked and Moitreyee giggled again. Rakesh and Meenal found the couple in front of them extremely... unique. Even though they had smiles etched on their faces, their body language said otherwise.

“These bottles were gifted to us by Meenal’s clients. Most of them were high profile. Businessman, politicians, actors, such sort,” Rakesh said as he crept closer to his wife.

“You must be earning a lot with your job, I presume,” Mr. Das asked.

“Just enough to get by,” Meenal replied curtly. Rakesh knew the truth. Between the two, Meenal definitely earned more than Rakesh but that never bothered him. He was proud of his wife’s accomplishments as he had witnessed the hardships she had to overcome to reach where she was now.

As the night grew darker and the rain seemed to get even worse, the alcohol drinks went down faster. They were three bottles of wine down and bliss marked on their faces.

“Do you believe in black magic, Mrs. Meenal?” Moitreyee asked out of the blue.

Meenal was taken aback. “Black magic? Isn’t that a concept for just movies and books?”

Moitreyee chuckled drunkenly. “It still doesn’t answer my question. Do you or do you not?” Her face had suddenly contorted into something Rakesh couldn’t comprehend.

“No, I don’t,” Meenal answered finally. “To think that something so powerful as magic, regardless of it being used for evil, could be used by normal humans like us, is, frankly, silly. Because if it did exist, wouldn’t more people use it for themselves? Only a fool would believe in it.”

The room fell into an unwieldly silence. Everyone looked at each other, a cutting strain tensed between them. Mr. Das began to laugh loudly. “You’re right,Mrs. Desai. If it were to actually exist, more people would definitely use it. Does that answer your question, Moitreyee?”

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, Mrs. Meenal. It wasn’t my purpose to do so,” said Moitreyee, getting up from the couch. “Let me pour you all a drink to show my remorse.”

Meenal quickly waved her hand. “You mustn’t, Mrs. Das. It’s our home and you’re our guest. We can’t let you pour us a drink. Let me.”

“No, I insist.” Moitreyee patted Meenal on her arm and led her back to her seat. Rakesh couldn’t help but admire Moitreyee. She might have been quite straight-forward with her words but she, also, was rather courteous.

Moitreyee served the drinks to Rakesh and Meenal. As soon as Rakesh sipped on it, he couldn’t help but be baffled at the taste. “Is this the wine we were having so far? It taste different. Better actually.”

Moitreyee chuckled, snuggling beside Mr. Das. “It isn’t. It’s actually the wine we brought over. It’s homemade.”

Rakesh was dumbfounded. “A homemade wine? It must have taken years to make this?”

“It’s an old family recipe.” Moitreyee smiled sweetly but for some reason it was blurry for Rakesh. He blinked a couple of times but his sight only got worse. He heard a faint thump beside him. He tilted his head and saw his wife on the ground. He tried to utter her name but his mouth seemed to have numbed. He shifted his weight to move but it was heavy. And the next thing he knew, his head spun and the vision finally got dark.

When Rakesh got back his consciousness, the view before him was repulsive. Moitreyee stood in the middle of the room with Meenal by her feet. Blood dribbled from Moitreyee’s face, staining her red and white sari. Rakesh shifted his heavy head to watch Mr. Das scream at her.

“Moitreyee! Haven’t you done enough? We can’t kill one more person!” Mr. Das ran his fingers through his hair. Rakesh noticed it were stained with red.

“What do you mean? Isn’t that why we are here? Isn’t that why you invited us to their house?” Moitreyee asked as she slathered the blood across her forehead.

“I don’t know. I-I don't think we should do this,” Mr. Das stuttered.

“Abhoy, my darling, for how long have people looked down on you because you had no money? No status? Nothing to your name? You have worked like a slave everyday of your life, barely scarping by, but with no acknowledgment, ” Moitreyee said as she bent down. “Didn’t you want to live a lavish life like them?”

“I didn’t know about them. But now, I see. These people are good!” Mr. Das retorted.

“Good?” Moitreyee chortled. “Look at them! They’re living in wealth while you struggled to even pay your rent. This man was supposed to be working under you, Abhoy. But how is it that he’s living a lush life while you struggle to make the ends meet?” She stepped closer to Mr. Das. “They’re greedy people. They didn’t even want to disclose that they have so much cash! B-but with her sacrifice, we can finally have what we desire. This house, their money, their lifestyle! Everything will be ours!”

“Moitreyee, all the people you’ve killed deserved it. They treated me like trash and thought they were better than me. We already have so much money. We got a new house, a new car, and I’ve recently thought about even investing in some stocks because we have the money to do so. But Rakesh and his wife are good people, Moitreyee. They don’t look down on me. They don’t flaunt their wealth to make others feel bad.” Mr. Das pleaded. “Let them go. I beg of you.”

“My dear, Abhoy. You begged me, when you were thrown aside, to make you rich. Do... do you remember that? I’m just fulfilling your dream, you wish.” Moitreyee went back to Meenal and drew blood from a wound on her hand. She poured Meenal’s blood in the wine glass that Meenal had been using previously.

“Moitreyee, please don’t do this.” Mr. Das looked haphazard.

“If I don’t do this now, you will lose everything you’ve earned, Abhoy. Remember that. All your wishes that have come true was because of all the people you were willing to sacrifice. If you want to continue to be with money as you desire, this sacrifice must be done. Or else, you’re life will be on the line.”

Rakesh was bewildered with everything he had just heard. Who were these people? Who was Mr. Das? No, most importantly, who was Moitreyee? He was beginning to feel the numbness in his body slowly fade.

As Moitreyee began some kind of ritualistic chant, Mr. Das gave up and collapsed on the ground, panting and huffing. Candle that was lit on either side of Meenal began to blaze higher and higher. Lightning struck and thunder rolled loudly right outside his house. But other than that nothing else happened. Moitreyee scowled.

“What the hell is happening?” she screamed.

Mr. Das stared in front of him with sombre eyes and watched Meenal slowly get up. Rakesh exhaled sharply. Fear creeped into his bones. He tried to crawl back but he knew it was of no use.

“How is she up? Didn’t you dose her enough with the sleeping drug?” Mr. Das asked, glowering.

“I did. I... I don’t know how she’s up.” Moitreyee stepped back and grabbed the vase from the centre-table. She moved her arm back to hit Meenal in the head but Meenal caught it with one hand. “What the hell?”

Meenal pulled the vase from Moitreyee’s grasp and threw it on the ground. Ceramic pieces shattered across the marble tiles. She grabbed Moitreyee by her neck and began to strangle her. Mr. Das jumped on his feet and went to save his wife but it was of no use. Meenal flung him across the room.

“You want money?” Meenal asked ominously. “I’ll make your wish come true.” And then she loosened her hold on Moitreyee’s neck.

As soon as Moitreyee fell on the ground, she began choking. Each cough difficult than the previous. Her face sluggishly turned a bright shade of red and her eyes seemed to roll back in agony. She dug her fingers in her mouth and began to pull something out of it. Moitreyee was astonished when she saw notes of money coming out of her mouth.

Meenal turned around slowly and Rakesh noticed her completely white eyes slowly turning back to normal. Rakesh let out a relieved sigh. Meenal rushed towards him and helped him up.

“Are you okay?” Rakesh asked his wife.

“Never better!” She grinned sweetly. Rakesh pulled her into a hug and tightly wound his arms around her.

A few years ago, Rakesh found out the truth about his wife. She wasn’t entirely human. Her mother had been tricked by a demon and was forced to conceive a child. Being an offspring of a human and a demon, Meenal had unique talents. For years she had suffered from the war between her demonic and human side. But ever since she met Rakesh, she was able to control her talents. When Rakesh found out about it, he was flabbergasted. He had even walked out of their marriage. But love is not as fickle as people assume. Regardless of who she was, his love and trust in Meenal, brought them back together.

Rakesh and Meenal sobered up and quickly grabbed Mr. Das and Moitreyee who had passed out after coughing violently. Tying them to chairs, Rakesh and Meenal waited for them wake up. Mr. Das groaned and Moitreyee began coughing again. As soon as she saw Meenal, she gasped loudly.

“Who are you?” Moitreyee asked. Meenal walked closer to the Das’s. Moitreyee’s eyes widened in fear. “Dont... don’t come any closer. Stay away from me!”

Meenal asked warmly, her eyes turning back completely white. “Mrs. Das, do you believe in black magic?”

By Rukhsar Shafi