Image credit – Unsplash.com

Jokhini sprawled herself on the branches of the forest trees. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Her life was all about waiting now. Interminable and incessant waiting. Waiting for a glimpse of Bamboo Pukhuri, whom she had not seen. She looked around herself, remembering the days of yore. She gazed up at the moon. It was a thin, silver sliver. As she stared at it, something strange seemed to happen. Streaks seemed to come out of the moon until they appeared to be a full assemblage of intersecting arcs. The silver sliver seemed to flash like a full moon, with arrows or swords flashing out from it in every direction. Perhaps it was an optical illusion. They said the moon was a boat that tipped dreams into one's sleep. Perhaps these arrows were darts of memory. Perhaps ghosts like herself came out of these arrows, queens and princesses of yore, she thought drowsily, looking at the moon. Perhaps it was this strange enchantment caused by the moon that triggered her to go down memory lane. How she had yearned to go boating in the lake in this silvery moonlight, and how Bamboo Pukhuri had thwarted her desires. She had always loved the moon. Bamboo Pukhuri did too. Ah! How it hurt! 

The days when she herself had been Honeysuckle, the botany student. That was before she had killed herself, driven insane because of her maddening and unfulfilled desires, which had turned her into the ghost Jokhini. How she used to roam around this forest. How she had met the woman, Bamboo Pukhuri, here. Bamboo Pukhuri was wise in the lore of trees and birds and lakes and forests. Bamboo Pukhuri was this witchy woman who could tell you all about the insects, bees and butterflies. The caterpillars and moths. The soil for the crops. The soil for the flowers. The seasons. She spent a lot of time gardening. Although Bamboo Pukhuri had never formally studied botany, Honeysuckle had learnt more amazing things from her than anything she had learnt in her classroom. As per her name, Bamboo Pukhuri loved lakes. She had a lake and a garden in her house. When Honeysuckle visited her house, they would often go boating on the lake. Bamboo Pukhuri had a pet deer, and she named him Bambi. They would pluck berries, and Bamboo Pukhuri would sometimes cook lovely dishes. And Bamboo Pukhuri taught her everything there was to be learnt about the forest and the lake. Bamboo Pukhuri grew tall and straight as bamboos are wont to do. But Honeysuckle was a climber. And Honeysuckle was so fascinated, she wanted to climb on Bamboo Pukhuri. Once Bamboo Pukhuri realised how tenacious, how loyal, devotional, obsessive and unswerving Honeysuckle's autistic love was as she suckled next to her (she wanted Bamboo Pukhuri to suckle her, imagine!), Bamboo Pukhuri decided that Honeysuckle must be weaned off. She called Honeysuckle a parasite. An invader. When Honeysuckle suggested a midnight boat ride on the lake, Bamboo Pukhuri asked why. She said she did not teach in the dead of night. When Honeysuckle wrote little love notes to Bamboo Pukhuri on the leaves which they had collected, Bamboo Pukhuri icily replied that the leaves had better be preserved in Honeysuckle's notebooks, and the leaves of various species she had told Honeysuckle about were not meant for writing love notes. 

Being thus spurned, Honeysuckle had put all the plant knowledge she had gained from Bamboo Pukhuri to some other use. She knew several plants were very poisonous; the wisteria and the oleander were among the more deadly ones. The oleander was more easily available in these parts and also ensured a speedy and successful death. One day, wandering around, pained and hurt at the responses she had received from Bamboo Pukhuri, Honeysuckle had come across a big oleander tree with pink flowers and spiky green leaves, spreading itself out against an old wall. In desperation, she had hastily devoured it and had turned into the ghost Jokhini. In Assamese folklore, women who died with unfulfilled desires turned into Jokhinis. They lived in trees and killed men with their eyes by looking at them. But this Jokhini did not kill, and she wasn't in love with a man at all. 

In fact, Honeysuckle Jokhini wanted Bamboo Pukhuri to kill her. If only Bamboo Pukhuri would eat her, she would be inside Bamboo Pukhuri's body and be able to forge some kind of a connection with her. But she knew Bamboo Pukhuri didn't want to eat her. Moreover, wouldn't some of Honeysuckle's madness get transferred into Bamboo Pukhuri if she were to eat her? And now that Honeysuckle had become Jokhini, this amorphous, bodiless ghost, how would she eat her at all? If she could kiss Bamboo Pukhuri, she would blow a bit of her soul into her. But being a Jokhini, she couldn't kiss a mortal now. And, seeing how hard Bamboo Pukhuri tried to stay away from her, it was impossible to kiss her as she never saw her anyway. Day after day, Jokhini lay waiting in the trees, but never did she catch so much as a glimpse of Bamboo Pukhuri. In mourning, she howled and cried. She chanted Bamboo Pukhuri's name. She lit a sacrificial fire into which she put pieces of herself-- tears, blood, flesh, vomit, hair, nails. 

Now, as she looked up at the moon and saw the swords of light flashing from it, a multitude of arcs which made the blade-moon seem like a full moon, her yearning for the midnight moon boatrides with Bamboo Pukhuri surging up again, she hit upon the idea of trying to get inside Bamboo Pukhuri's mind, invading her mind. Penetrating her dreams just as Bamboo Pukhuri herself appeared in Jokhini's dreams. Being a ghost, she had the powers to do that. As if the flash came to her from the sword-arcs of the moon. If the moon tipped dreams in one's sleep, so was Jokhini about to slip dreams into Bamboo Pukhuri's. 

As Jokhini entered her dreams, Bamboo Pukhuri came to know that Honeysuckle had become a Jokhini because Bamboo Pukhuri had thwarted her.  Bamboo Pukhuri was alarmed. She had, anyway, begun trying to avoid Honeysuckle. In particular, she couldn't bear looking or being looked at. Was she afraid of Honeysuckle's eyes? Yet now, when she heard that Honeysuckle had become a Jokhini, what did she do? Knowing that Jokhinis lived only on trees, Bamboo Pukhuri decided to live far away from trees. Her house had been at the edge of the forest, but she shifted that so Jokhini never saw her anymore. Bamboo Pukhuri went far away and made sure that there were no trees near her new house. Now, Bamboo Pukhuri loved trees. And birds. And insects. And the forest. And the pukhuri lake. Yet she did this, so scared was she of Honeysuckle/Jokhini. Scared of her eyes. Scared of her mind. Her tight embrace, whether she bound her tightly as the Honeysuckle creeper or the hold she was trying to get over Bamboo Pukhuri's mind as Jokhini. Bamboo Pukhuri now had only potted plants near her house. She had no trees for miles around. She pottered about with her plants alone. She dared not go into any forest or near any trees. She had, however, bought huge telescopes, binoculars and cameras through which she could look at the forest while keeping herself at a comfortably safe distance. Through these, she saw her beloved trees and birds. Only through these. And miracle of miracles, very, very rarely, Bamboo Pukhuri would even train her telescopes and binoculars in the direction of Jokhini. In this safe, controlled way, she would sometimes look at her. Imagine, Bamboo Pukhuri, who ran away as far as possible from seeing Honeysuckle / Jokhini and from being seen by her, actually voluntarily looked at her in this very controlled, laboratory-like environment. 

As Honeysuckle/Jokhini got more hold over Bamboo Pukhuri's mind, she seemed to realise this. She could even faintly feel the telescopic eyes on her. Jokhini stirred restlessly. Her heart was a-flutter with mixed emotions. Multiple discoveries, realisations and epiphanies were responsible for this. To do her justice, she had never meant to harm Bamboo Pukhuri. It was just the obsessive intensity of her autistic passions and the effect of past childhood traumas, coupled, of course, with the fact that she was a climber and really didn't know how to stand straight and tall, so she always ended up falling over Bamboo Pukhuri. Bamboo Pukhuri to help her stand, Bamboo Pukhuri to regulate her emotions, Bamboo Pukhuri to please suckle her and become her mother? Jokhini was flabbergasted to realise that Bamboo Pukhuri was looking at her.  

As Honeysuckle/ Jokhini penetrated more and more into Bamboo Pukhuri's mind, she began to realise that Bamboo Pukhuri herself was in some sort of traumatic state. It seemed as if Bamboo Pukhuri had some psychiatric issues herself. As Honeysuckle / Jokhini got increasing hold over Bamboo Pukhuri's mind and entered her dreams, it seemed as if Bamboo Pukhuri's state was worsening. It was this that led Honeysuckle / Jokhini into her epiphany. She had, till now, always seen herself as the victimised one, the rejected one. Bamboo Pukhuri had utterly rejected her unconditional love and adoration. Jokhini had always seen herself as the hurt one. After all, she had to die and kill herself because of Bamboo Pukhuri's rejection. With this epiphany, and having entered Bamboo Pukhuri's mind, and having seen Bamboo Pukhuri actually looking at her through her telescopes, binoculars, and cameras as if she were one of Bamboo Pukhuri's favourite birds, Honeysuckle / Jokhini felt that Bamboo Pukhuri's reigning emotion out here was not hate, but fear. Bamboo Pukhuri did not hate her; Bamboo Pukhuri was afraid. She began to realise why Bamboo Pukhuri was so scared of her. Although Honeysuckle / Jokhini could not suddenly change herself because of this epiphany, it gave her food for thought. She gradually stopped trying to enter Bamboo Pukhuri's mind. But it had its uses. For one thing, it was precisely the act of being able to see inside Bamboo Pukhuri's mind that had brought about the epiphany. For another, it helped Honeysuckle / Jokhini to know that Bamboo Pukhuri did not hate her. Fear, after all, was a different emotion. Was that the reason why Bamboo Pukhuri couldn't look at her? Ah, but you see, she did look at her, too. Sometimes.  Honeysuckle / Jokhini could understand fear and trauma better than hate, as she experienced them herself. Ironically, it brought her closer to Bamboo Pukhuri, in some sense. If Bamboo Pukhuri struggled with psychiatric issues, she could possibly understand and empathise with that. It was a strange situation. She was afraid of Bamboo Pukhuri, and Bamboo Pukhuri was afraid of her. It was a deadlock. Was it at all possible to break this d(r)eadlock and make a move towards peace through some sort of understanding?