HUNGER

Her name was Phoenix.

And she was hungry. All the time. And it hurt, hurt so bad to be so very hungry. It consumed her whole. Her thoughts. Her actions. Her decisions. Her hunger consumed her very soul. She gave in to it each time, and she ate, and she ate. Still, it never subsided. It fed on her; even as she hopelessly swallowed down every type of food she could lay her hands on, tasting nothing, enjoying nothing at all. Her family chided her for her habits, the world recoiled in disgust. But the insatiable hunger that gnawed at her from the inside, was all she cared about. She puzzled over it and looked up any explanation, any hint of a cure she might find, but it seemed a hunger that transcended beyond all human boundaries. Maybe it was this birth-

For she was Phoenix and must be born again

And when she rose from the ashes

Searingly beautiful, brighter than ever

Maybe she would be rid of this

This hunger

It was the bane of her existence, the cross she was forced to carry, her very own customized curse.

And now it was a boon. For now she knew how to satisfy it, and she was never in pain now. The gods had smiled down at her destiny, but these were not the Christian Holy Trinity, not the apostles of Christ, not Buddha, not goddess Durga. These gods were those who were only pleased by the rains of blood, by the spillage of entrails and all that is unspeakable. These were gods whose very visages were the stuff of nightmares. But these were not those selfish, conditionally loving gods the world chased either- these gods, once pleased by prayer and adequate sacrifice -

Colossal sacrifice, colossal it must be

In blood and tears and pain

But small, so small before what is granted

In return, in return

Yes

Gave such gifts, bestowed such blessings, not even a pagan god could dream of wielding such power to turn a worshipper’s life around. Phoenix could testify- it did turn her life around.

She discovered the cure to her ache when she got her first taste.

The first taste of blood.

Metallic and warm, startlingly red, somewhat watery as it seeped through the paper cut on her finger.

It tasted strange.

Phoenix loved it.

And her brother’s tasted even better.

A tiny voice within her screamed how wrong it was, how inhuman, but the seat in her heart now belonged to those gods to whom she had pledged all her births.

But it was worth it, worth it

So what if her family perished

They always revolted at her, always

They didn’t understand

Her hunger

She urged herself on till satiation. And then she encountered the pleasure of consuming human flesh. Each tendon infused with rich flavour, each muscle differing in tenderness and taste. It was so wrong to end lives to satisfy her own hunger, Phoenix knew but

But it was so, so right

For the blood was so fresh, when it came from the heart pumping furiously till the last breath

Bluish red and hot and thick

Stirred in with the flesh still warm after life had ebbed away

Yes it filled her

Filled her soul

Gave her warmth

It was a dangerous path Phoenix had stepped on. But the fulfilment of purpose it gave her was above all else. For how could she have given her best to the world if she remained hungry?

No one deserved to remain hungry.

And as long as there was human existence in the world- overpopulated as it was, in any case she was doing it a favour- as long as she could eat to her heart’s content, it didn’t matter that

That her heart was painted in darkness

That her eyes grew a shade darker each time she glanced in the mirror

Anyway, mirrors lied.

Phoenix would never have to curse her life again- not this birth, and not the next. And when she was born again, she would rise from the ashes

Searingly beautiful, brighter than ever

And she would never feel it again

Hunger

Never again

• Samriddhi Mukherjee