Podcast. Episode 2: The Masquerade

I am posting the Episodes 2 of the podcast of The Masquerade.

My novel – The Masquerade is now available on amazon and major eportals, for both India and overseas distribution. The write up of sample chapter follows each podcast.

You can also listen to them at Spotify.com. I am trying to post them on Facebook, Instagram, and Youtube in video format. Possibly I will do that tomorrow. And will post Podcast 3 & 4 tomorrow morning.

Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: The Masquerade: Episode 2

https://anchor.fm/manitav/episodes/The-Masquerade-Episode-2-eglrr3

Chapter 1. 

Continued after Podcast 1 – 

With her heart beating hard and eyes wide open, Mrinalini scanned the room once again. No one.

She took a deep breath and, after getting satisfied that there was nothing to be scared of, she returned to her room. Her dry, flaky lips were stretched and peeling. The upper part of both her shoulder blades ached, the muscles between them stiffened, and an excruciating pain shot down her spine.

She sat down on her bed, rubbing her palms together to ward off the chill. The more she tried to get over these terrifying experiences, the more they seemed to grip her. She was aware that baseless creepy encounters like these were not normal, but they seemed to be rising these past few days.

Just yesterday, she had a weird experience in her swanky cabin at the prestigious Manhattan City Hospital, where she worked. She had been immersed in a medical journal—’Recent Advances in Diagnosis and Management of Psychiatric Disorders.’ Intricacies of the human brain and their management were interesting as well as draining to read. She enjoyed reading when she was not attending her patients. Often her mind drifted from the article to one patient or the other and then towards the window in her cabin.

The view from the glass window right over a busy street reflected the spirit of the city buzzing with activity in the morning office hours. Inside her cabin, which was twenty floors above the ground, she was supposed to keep a farce of calmness as a key to her psychiatry clinic practice.

She remembered asking her assistant, Irina, to get coffee for her. After finishing a long article on Schizophrenia, she pressed the buzzer again.

“Yes, doctor?” Irina, the tall, soft-spoken assistant with a desk right outside Mrinalini’s cabin, zoomed inside and straightened her spectacles to set them neatly on her crooked nose.

“Irina, I had asked for coffee,” Mrinalini reminded Irina, raising her brows.

Irina straightened her spectacles again, frowned, and replied, “Doctor, I did serve coffee to you.”

“No.” Mrinalini shook her head confidently. What Irina was saying was unbelievable. She must be mistaken.

“Yes, doctor.” Irina was firm.

Mrinalini’s favourite coffee mug, a black ceramic mug with an overlay of a guitar with musical notes in the background, stood neglected on one corner of her desk. She grasped it. It was cold and empty.

“You mean to say that you served coffee, and I consumed it?”

Irina shrugged and said, “I think so.”

“That’s impossible. When did you keep this mug here?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

Mrinalini peered inside the mug. The black bottom displayed faint streaks of dried leftover coffee. She raised it and sniffed to smell it. The fragrance of freshly brewed dark coffee was trapped inside the mug.

It was inexplicable. Bizarre, at best.

Mrinalini scraped the interiors of her mouth to let her tongue taste the remnants of coffee, if any. She even gulped a huge bout of saliva in an effort to remember the flavour of the coffee.

When a lot of time had passed thinking about coffee – a hot, freshly brewed mug of African Blue coffee with a magnificent aroma, creamy texture, and bitter-sweet taste – coupled with a visual and the smell of coffee inside the mug, it was enough to create an illusion. She could now taste it inside her mouth.

 ‘Nothing is more frustrating than reality and imagination warring with each other. Is it possible that I finished an entire mug of hot coffee and didn’t even register it in my brain?

Apparently, it is.’

Irina hesitated but finally spoke, “These confusion spells have been increasing for you.”

Mrinalini was aware of this. She didn’t need someone else to point it out for her. It had occurred for the third time in a row this month. A few days ago, she had completely forgotten about a meeting with a client even after being reminded by Irina. A week before that, she had failed to locate her car in the basement parking of the hospital building. She had filed a police complaint of theft, only to find on her desk the parking slip from the neighbouring building. Her car was found safely parked in the building next to the hospital.

Mortified at yet another incidence proving her absent-mindedness, she dismissed Irina with a subtle move of her neck. This was added to the list of incidents of confusion and forgetfulness, raising the count every few days.

She was aware that none of these could be assigned to normal behaviour. It felt as if she was living on two levels. One, over the surface – for the world to see. The other, at a deeper level – unknown to anybody. Gradually, she was losing connection with both.

During some days, she struggled with undefined sensations throughout her body, not triggered by any valid stimuli. While most nights, nightmares and creepy sounds kept her awake. She couldn’t sleep fearing the prototypical ‘demons under the bed’ and ‘monsters around the window.’ It was getting scary every day.

This one night was particularly daunting. Eerie sounds coming from Pia’s room didn’t stop till 4:00 am. She knew that the room was empty – she had checked it.

Still, the noises intensified for her even when she was ducked inside the quilt, with her eyes closed tightly.

………………………..

{Note – This story begins a chapter before Mrinalini comes to her hometown. When she was in NYC. Also, a novel is different from episodic fiction posted on wattpad or online blogs. So, we need to accept the changes made to streamline the story. Be patient 😊)