Based on Lies - The Whole Story by Debarshi Kanjilal
Publication date: May 1st, 2020
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
A psychopath.
An infidel.
A child abuser.
A murderer.
A lover.
An insomniac.
A disturbed man.
A victim of his own mind.
Each one of these phrases can aptly describe Anurag Sanyal. This is Anurag's story.
He has confessed it all to his diary. He has described every crime in vivid, nauseating detail. And each account is more surreal, more messed up than the last. There is only one problem--everything he narrates is based on lies.
And thus, we begin the eternal search for truth.
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Excerpt
Anurag smiled hesitantly and said, "It's okay. I know you are here to help. And I trust any choice that Aditi makes."
"Good," I said, as I stood next to him. I drew a chair for myself and sat down in front of him.
"You love Aditi, don't you?" I asked.
"Of course, I do," said Anurag. "Anyone else, I would have been struggling to keep paying exorbitant alimonies for years now. But Aditi is different. I wish I could have done more for her, given her a child, perhaps."
This sentiment wasn't new. I had read something similar in his diary. And that scared me; his diary couldn't be dismissed as a madman's blabbering if he can recall any or all of it.
"Does Aditi feel that way about the child? Are you sure that she even wishes to have a child with you?" I asked.
Anurag burst into laughter. "Which married woman in her thirties doesn't want a child, doctor? Let me call you doctor, make you seem important! Anyway, I don't need to ask her that question, doctor. I have been with her long enough to know what her heart desires."
I tried to stay calm. After the silence simmered for half a minute, Anurag added, "If I did ask her, she'd say 'you're the child in our marriage, Avi, we don't need another one,' but I know she would just be saying that."
I was caught with my guard down. "Avi!" I exclaimed as I turned to the door into the room to look at Aditi, who had been standing there calmly all along. She turned her gaze down tot he floor and then silently turned and walked away. I tried to gather my composure--futile efforts. I looked back at Anurag and asked him, "I am sorry, I didn't read your full name yet. That was really careless of me."
"It's okay, doctor. After all, you are not a real doctor, so you are allowed to make mistakes! It's Kar, Avinit Kar."
"Of course, Avinit. Avinit, do you know anyone named Anurag?"
"Yes, of course, I knew Anurag, but haven't you heard?"
And with that preface, Anurag started talking. And before I couldn't take any more of the ridiculous story he narrated, he had suggested that Anurag, who was someone other than himself, had died in a terrible road accident, and Aditi is now grieving his death.
"Good," I said, as I stood next to him. I drew a chair for myself and sat down in front of him.
"You love Aditi, don't you?" I asked.
"Of course, I do," said Anurag. "Anyone else, I would have been struggling to keep paying exorbitant alimonies for years now. But Aditi is different. I wish I could have done more for her, given her a child, perhaps."
This sentiment wasn't new. I had read something similar in his diary. And that scared me; his diary couldn't be dismissed as a madman's blabbering if he can recall any or all of it.
"Does Aditi feel that way about the child? Are you sure that she even wishes to have a child with you?" I asked.
Anurag burst into laughter. "Which married woman in her thirties doesn't want a child, doctor? Let me call you doctor, make you seem important! Anyway, I don't need to ask her that question, doctor. I have been with her long enough to know what her heart desires."
I tried to stay calm. After the silence simmered for half a minute, Anurag added, "If I did ask her, she'd say 'you're the child in our marriage, Avi, we don't need another one,' but I know she would just be saying that."
I was caught with my guard down. "Avi!" I exclaimed as I turned to the door into the room to look at Aditi, who had been standing there calmly all along. She turned her gaze down tot he floor and then silently turned and walked away. I tried to gather my composure--futile efforts. I looked back at Anurag and asked him, "I am sorry, I didn't read your full name yet. That was really careless of me."
"It's okay, doctor. After all, you are not a real doctor, so you are allowed to make mistakes! It's Kar, Avinit Kar."
"Of course, Avinit. Avinit, do you know anyone named Anurag?"
"Yes, of course, I knew Anurag, but haven't you heard?"
And with that preface, Anurag started talking. And before I couldn't take any more of the ridiculous story he narrated, he had suggested that Anurag, who was someone other than himself, had died in a terrible road accident, and Aditi is now grieving his death.
About the Author:
Debarshi Kanjilal is an urban fiction writer based out of Bangalore, India. He published his first novella, Crimes of Love, just before the 2017 holiday season and it was touted as a gripping psychological thriller by several reputable reviewers.
DK ran the 'God of Absurdity' blog from 2012 to 2015, which published humorous anecdotes and reflection pieces. He is also an accomplished learning experience design professional who has help shaped adult learning content strategy for some of the most reputable organizations in the world.
You can keep up to date with his work on LinkedIn, Instagram, or his website.
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