The Shadow by R. Manmatha (copyright R. Manmatha) The other day I looked behind and lo and behold I saw somebody following me - my shadow, which gave me something to write about. ********************************************************************** My shadow follows me everywhere, almost everywhere - for I have found that he has a compulsive fear of dark places and only there can I really escape from him. I do not like it. When I first became aware of it, it was kind of cute and quaint - aha, somebody who follows in my footsteps I thought. But he kept dogging me. There is a point when persistence becomes a nuisance and it had reached that. I asked, requested, remonstrated, threatened and even begged; but no, he would not give it up. He loomed a few paces behind me; sometimes for a change he would walk ahead of me. No conversation was complete without him. My most intimate secrets, he was privy to them. My only escape was the dark. But how long can man, a creature of the light, stay in the dark. Only in his sleeping hours and that was of little use to me, for I didn't care whether he was sleeping next to me - what bothered me was my awareness of his presence. I talked to my lover over a candlelight dinner. Romantic you would have thought, just the two of us whispering sweet nothings, holding hands, staring into each other's eyes. But he was there; his presence seemed even larger than normal. The thread of romance was broken and a dull evening creeped upon us. Of course she could not understand what was wrong and I could not explain. What would I say? "That I felt my shadow was alive, dogging me everywhere". She would have laughed and thought me crazy. Such is the way the world treats people who are different. I laughed and he laughed. I got angry, the corners of my mouth crinkling with contempt. He did the same. I tore my hair out. He repeated it action for action. I finally snuffed out the light and he fled leaving me alone in peace. Ah, the joy of being alone with nothing for company but inanimate things. I talked to the chairs, tables, my books about my problem. They listened without interrupting. No person could listen as well as them and I loved them for that. I spoke, they nodded in silent acquiescence. They did not imitate me. The light brought my shadow back, somewhat chastened. But it never lasted long. He would be upto his tricks again. Thus it is that I now confide in you. I do not know where else to turn for people will not listen to me. They do not understand. I thought I would find a more sympathetic audience in you. Tell me what to do? Help me! P.S. I was wrong. You are just like the others. For my trust, my reward is the looney bin. It doesn't matter. I am going crazy anyway -for he is here.