Does it hurt to be
abnormal? Ask Grundy. When all stares upon you pierce like a million, tiny
arrows. “Freak”, they called him. And by the ablest imagination, they were
right. When even his smile wrought fear in the audience he sought to please.
Circus, that’s where he was brought up, and what could wail better than a
century of suppressed laughter. For not a day did pass he stopped looking for
affection. The fat gentleman, the crumpled lady, the candy girl, those mean
kids. He could happily end his life in exchange for their love. But the dank
corridors and iron cages is what he returned to, every night.
Some in the circus argue
they found Grundy abandoned at a gypsy camp, undeniably lending to the legend
of his cursed life. Yet others maintain Grundy came all by himself. The
ringmaster holds firm to his theory. The one rainy night he went out for a
piss. When a crack of lightning blazed the horizon, this creature came
charging, right at his throat if he could make you believe. Not surprisingly
the bosses at the circus were afraid to approach the abomination. Outright ugly,
wasn’t uncommon for the ladies to retch at a mere glimpse. As he learnt to live
among his new folks, the legend of him grew. It was almost taken that he had
come to pass a hundred years, knew hokum magic and was a deceitful killer.
Perhaps they were right, Grundy, at a glance seemed all that.
While Grundy was an animal
at the circus, Shanta differed. Then again a woman of ill repute couldn’t
warranty much. Her delicate, impossibly slender fingers seemed to cure much of
the hatred he held in him. She brought him incense from the temples and lotus
from the lakes. She even sang, as her feverish, frail body would sway to the
renditions of the hymns. For all the optimism that seemed to pull the humane
from the animal, that coaxed smiles from the monster, couldn’t last a “summer
romance”. Shanta didn’t rise to the morning tolls. She possibly couldn’t with
her torso missing, presumably, brutally gnawed at.
They
shoved hot iron to his face, smeared him with shit. Grundy was always a part of
pompous displays; atrocities were a minor diversion. He kept his silence, never
spoke a word, and almost got killed. When they got tired and flimsy, they
simply locked him in his cage and forgot. That was when he discovered light, in
the dark brooding corners. And for the first time he felt a strange sensation
on his cheeks, that warm dribble rolling down his chin. He stood stunned,
almost impassive to this newfound sensation. And it did not stop there. He
tried stopping, it got stronger. And then he let it come; Streams of tears down
those weary eyes.
But
what occurred that night? While the accusations were unanimous, Grundy was
defenceless. The ignominy would haunt
him for centuries to come. Now embittered and personally shattered, Grundy
resigned to his fate, he always did. And that was when we saw something change
in him. The remorseless creature was blithe. A macaque on a tent pole! He flourished
on the circus scene like fire to the straw. Suddenly the circus was enlivened,
no exaggeration then it was packed to full houses. Grundy could chew iron,
devour raw seals, and even allowed the curious children to touch his scalded
hide. He gave the circus his life, and no amount of chide would ever break him
again. He had vowed and he knew how true it was.
Decades
later the cityscape changed. There were automobiles, industrial smoke and
general apathy. That age bore a flower. A frail trapeze artist that was the
most beautiful acrobat the circus had ever seen. Grundy adored her, for in more than a
thousand ways, she was Shanta. She had
fed Grundy as a kid, but kept her distance, especially since the ring master
had warned her. Grundy admired her with a ferocity that was taking control over
his mind, and would eventually his heart. Oh how he wished to be a part of her
conversation, the reason for her careless giggles. Poor soul wouldn’t
understand, you never douse fire, with fire.
How strange is fate then? The circus burned in raging flames, trapping Grundy
and the girl inside. Nobody came to the rescue, none could. The ferocity was
astounding; Flames, resolute, coming from the pits of hell itself. They waited
till the morning light, when the bell tolls, and beneath the white smoke, they
saw a miracle. A mass of charred flesh, like a blanket, lay upon the frail
girl. Sometimes you douse fire with fire.
A
long time after the event, the circus was restored. Grundy survived. The girl
did too. With time they discovered a strange friendship. Grundy was overwhelmed
with this reckless trapeze girl. She was a splash of cold water to his charred
soul. They became inseparable in the months that followed, with some getting
close to suspect that the allure of the beast was not normal, that the fire was
a setup, that he had cast his spell. It was upon him that he did cast a spell,
we all call it love.
But
then, happiness and Grundy were old enemies. And the hour of his destruction
came much sooner than Grundy could ever imagine.
Some argue it was the devilish,
handsome brute. Others say it was plain old luck; that Grundy was asking for
it, that his end was inevitable. Much before the news of the tragedy arrived,
when Grundy was happily performing at the circus, happily loving his friend. There
came upon this charming acrobat. He had the circus under his spell; the girl didn’t
stand a chance. While the waning meetings quietly pulled a stake at Grundy’s
heart, his chance sightings of her in his embrace almost burned him inside. What
was Grundy supposed to do? What are monsters supposed to do ? And so he resigned to
his fate, very quietly, submission of a lifetime. The monster wouldn’t smile
again.
It
was the same night again, the kind that brought him here. Rains carried forth
by winds sprayed the circus cold. If the beast had ever held some magic to his
name, then it was this night that would work, overtime!
A
premonition that would guide him to the depths of the hallways, to the chamber
where shanta had called his name, to the night he had lost her forever. Was it
not his shanta that lay that night?
Torso
ripped apart, as he held her in her arms. That was when she confessed she had
cheated his beloved beast, betrayed the child that had looked upon the only
human being ever? She died in his arms, only pleading for his silence and a
promise no harm would come to the ring master, the murderer. And when he
finally reached upon the spot that she died, it was him, the brute, defiling
her right before his eyes. It must have been years of silence, or perhaps his suppressed
rage, he could hold no longer and pounced upon him like a dazed kamikaze. In the
mêlée that ensued, the hapless girl couldn’t decide where to vent her confusion
or frustration. She drew the stake into the brute’s heart, or so she thought. The
beast meanwhile had rendered the acrobat devoid of his life. As lightning flashed
on the blood laden floor, a shriek so terrifying, blood curdling emanated from
the pale girl’s throat. Grundy slumped quietly, the stake firmly gripped, drawn
right to hi heart. As life escaped, inches by inches, and the horrific
realization dawned upon the girl, Grundy seemed to be at ease. He for once felt
love possessing him like never before. As warm tears streamed from the girls
cheek onto his, he couldn’t help but smile. Inconsolable as the girl was, and
would be for years to come, the monster knew he wouldn’t die in vain.