The House of Tragedy

The house was never made to be home, no one seemed to feel the necessity for it. That was precisely why no one had bothered to write the name of the house on the gate. It was a spikes gate, as mukundan the only man who could be a little English, called it. The other houses nearby had a name "jojomol, Kochuparambil..." so they at least had a feel of  home. But this quaint house had  a letter box affixed to the rusted gate and it was painted a miserable blue.The house of tragedy stood atop  a very miserable looking hillock, with the sense of dark powers over it. A hillock in the English dictionary does not fit into my image of it in the brain. After years the detest for the foreign element makes me elemental in my writing.Money there were people dying for it. But in the house of tragedy, people died because of excess of it.  The house of tragedy like some political meeting houses was noisy only when people made sure no one blamed the wrong doer.I was born  three years earlier than my aunt.The eldest cousin in  India is always remembered because the phase of transience begins there.Transience in the house where I was born began with the degeneration of the brain. In the house of tragedy people were always born the wrong way. No,  reader ,you are wrong in what crossed your mind...no there were no illegitimate children. Instead nieces were always older than uncles, nephews than uncles and aunts. It was a house of tragedy without the possibility of catharsis. The post man choked on the Post box..red hot..the red rage of an unhappy son and three discontented daughters. Love was a costly item in the house of tragedy. Love was not being served on  platter free, all the inmates loved chicken so it was never cooked and if cooked never shared. So the hens in the coup ran about, died of old age and the cocks were admired for their healthy red crest. No one wanted to give love because the major rule of the house of tragedy was love if given away , was less at heart.But the most dangerous act and decision was taken by the fifth daughter of the house of tragedy from the house of errors in the eastern town. She was frail  but she  exercised her free will by giving her yoke of  a love to a stranger whom she understood only after forty years of wedlock. The day of excommunication was pleasant to the stranger who was a freak. So they went into a wedlock that was cursed by both the houses, the tragedy and the errors. So they exit children whom no one would love except themselves. That was the decree for a man who decides to have his way and a woman who decides her man. All inmates who rebelled against lack of love were sentenced to a lifetime of hell.No one attended funerals, no one graced any occasion(hush! is it double ss or double cc... am writing foreign language ...) I like things double, anything happy is double. There you see the youngest a dreamer, she will never fit into either house. I guess she will develop complications in life because she sees the world a little differently. I do not think she thinks well, limited by space and time. I hope she completes her mission. But then she being the youngest will never be an important part of this degenerative transience. Still I hope like me, she survives her head.