THE BLACK BUTTERFLY

 Shay, with an exhilarated face, stepped away from the mirror and speed walked towards his desk to get his file, which included his CV and other accomplishments. He kept the file in his sling bag, slung it over his shoulder, put on his formal shoes and twisted open the entry door. As soon as he kept his feet out, he felt like he was forgetting something. He looked at his left wrist, and suddenly he started to run towards his bed. He sifted around the neatly tidied blankets, searching for something. He checked beneath the pillows and under the bed but found nothing. A shiny object that gleamed in the gap between the mattress and bed grabbed the attention of his alluring eyes. He quickly grabbed it from there. It was a band, a unique one. He wore it on his left wrist and got out of his house, confident that he had not forgotten anything. He had forgotten his watch.

 He hopped on his bicycle, took his headphones out of his pocket, plugged them into his phone, turned on the music, and started pedalling at a speed of thirty five kilometres per hour. It was an impossible feat to travel seven kilometres in eighteen minutes, considering the gridlock in Akai. He took his phone out of his pants pocket to check the time. It was 9:18. He raced up a little, as there were still five kilometres left. Everything was going smoothly until he got stuck in traffic, and that too a nasty one.

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 His hands grabbed the drapes and split opened them, giving way to the sunlight. It was 7 in the morning. The sun kissed his languid face. He washed his face and began brewing his morning coffee. His face was not the brightest, even after washing it. He loaded the coffee beans into the burr grinder and turned it on. His fingers were tired, and his fingertips were worn out. He looked at them with an empty face that carried no emotion. Beep! the grinder chirped. The coffee beans have been powdered. He transferred them into a portafilter and placed it inside an espresso machine. He turned the machine on and waited for thirty seconds. He was staring at the coffee cup with his dreamy brown eyes, thinking about something one cannot comprehend or accept. Except one. Ding! The machine dinged while the espresso was dripping down the sides of the demitasse cup. He held the cup gently, poured it in with milk, and added two teaspoons of sugar to his coffee cup. He got his morning coffee.

 He grabbed the coffee in his hands and sauntered into his workshop. He set aside his coffee and began to gently clean his violin by wiping down the dust from it using a dry microfiber cloth. He also altered the strings. The violin was in horrible shape with splintered wood. it was an Eastman violin. His workplace is located directly across the hall from his room. It's a spacious, quiet room with an aesthetically pleasing design. It was crammed with musical instruments and repair tools. The room has two windows: one above the desk, and the other on the right side of the desk. He is a Luthier. He sipped his coffee while dusting the piano on the left side of the desk. The desk was built directly opposite from the door. The room was tranquil. The birds were singing, and the keys of the piano were reflecting a dire and wounded heart that was once filled with innocence and happiness.

 After drinking his morning coffee, he washed his cup in the kitchen sink. He checked the time on the clock that hung in the hallway. It was 7. He got out of the kitchen and walked down the stairs to the main door. He took the door keys from the key holder, unlocked it, and welcomed the howling wind inside. He was still dressed in his formal attire from yesterday. He stepped out, admired the weather, and took the milk and newspaper in his hand.

 The time was 7:15. He placed the milk inside the refrigerator, the newspaper on the desk, and grabbed a towel. He switched on the water heater and waited for two minutes before entering the bathroom. The hot water sprinkled out of the shower, touching his head. He grasped the water in his hands, yearning for something. The water trickled from his hands, revealing the scars on his palms and fingers. He turned off the shower, wrapped his lower body with a towel, and got out of the bathroom. He picked a light blue formal shirt and black pants for the day. He tucked the shirt, got his watch off the desk, wore it, and checked the time. It was 7:40. He looked himself in the mirror. He slicked back his slightly grey hair, even though some of the strands came in front. He also groomed his beard.

 Sizzle, the sound of batter touching a hot pan. He was making himself some onion dosas. The sizzle intensified after every dosa. He also made some sambar to eat alongside the dosas. He leaned backwards against the kitchen wall with one leg on it and started eating the dosas. He washed his hands, plate and walked out of the kitchen. He went into his bedroom, bent down, and took some papers from his bedside drawer. After taking the papers, he stood there with a radiant smile. The photo frame of the whole neighbourhood on the bedside drawer reflected his delighted brown eyes, which were looking at them.

 He opened the car door, got in it, and started it. It's a Jeep Wrangler. He moved the gear stick from neutral and drove off. The rear mirror captured his eyes, which were looking at his home, and also his chuckle. His home, a fortress filled with fond memories, was 5 kilometres from downtown Akai. He was travelling through the curvy roads of Kashmir, which had snow on their sides, while listening to "ila nenje vaa" and greeting people. The fresh and crisp air touched his face, as it was the month of September. The weather was pleasant. He could see birds flying towards Hokersar and trees that are amber. The peaceful white and green terrains on which the apple trees rest. His car drove past a street board "Fuchsia Line" and entered a street. His car came to a stop in front of his shop. He took out his purse from the dashboard, which was full of papers, and stepped out of the car. As he was walking into his shop, all of a sudden, he heard a voice crying out his name in the distance.

 "Liam…Liam!," shouted Athira, a little girl from the Fuchsia neighbourhood. She was wearing a cute frock in pink, matching her shoes, and a brown jerkin. Her hair was neatly arranged with a band protecting it. She gasped as she ran, calling out his name.

 With a cheerful smile on his face, Liam bent down and asked "Where are you running with those little legs, little Miss, and why are you calling out my name?"

"It was about yesterday's night, thanks for the music," she replied with a wide smile on her face. Liam was surprised. With a happiness-filled face, he said, "You don't need to thank me, little Miss. Now go on, your mother will be looking for you." She chuckled and started jumping around the same way she ran. He got up and gazed skyward,

 "Black Butterfly"

 His store emblem shined in the bright sunlight. He looked around the streets and entered into his store through the dark green door with a window in the centre.

 Hearing the chime of the bell, Gayathri turned her head backward as she was cleaning the floor. Her black hair shined in the sunlight. "Welcome na," she greeted Liam while cleaning the floor, "Hi ma" he replied. Liam checked the time, it was 8:20. "Why hasn't Charan come yet?" He questioned Gayathri. "How do I know na?" She replied with a chuckle. "Ahh.. you should know right?" He asked her with a smile. "Why should I know, w-w-why?" Her face blushed as she stammered. "Ok ok, he said it comically. "Give me the broom, I will sweep, you go check if the instruments need any altering. "Ok na," She handed Liam the broom and started checking the testing instruments, first. She checked a baroque violin, cleaned it, made some changes to the strings, and placed it in the display window. It's a violin crafted by Liam with a Black butterfly mark on the side.

 Liam wore an apron, took a tape recorder, kept it on the cashier's desk, walked towards his music collection, selected a cassette, inserted it into the tape recorder, and pressed down the play button.

 "Kokku saiva kokku oru kenda meena kandu veratham mudichirucham"

 He took the broom in his hand and started sweeping the floor while dancing to the song in the background. His store, which is large, has two rooms filled with instruments, music cassettes, and vinyl records. It also has a back entrance and a storage room. He was sweeping, cleaning, and wiping the store until he heard the front door open. It was Shay who was here for the interview. Liam looked at his watch; the time was precisely 9:30. With a calm face, he stopped the music and questioned Shay, "Are you, Shay?"