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Samuel Johnson once said “Curiosity is one of the permanent and certain characteristics of a vigorous mind.”
“Maa ki aankh!!...”
I have a vigourous mind.
I couldn’t sleep after letting Piyush alone with Shamita. I was laughing aloud within. I was dying to see the how Piyush would behave in the close company of a girl. That too the one he is trying to woo. I jumped out of the bed, pulled on a T-shirt, pulled up a jeans and ran down slipping my feet into slip-ons to follow him.
I see them walking together at s distance. I maintain my pace to keep the distance constant. They take the turn. I walk faster now. I reach the turn and see them walking slowly. Piyush has tucked his hands into his pockets and is kicking his legs each time he’s taking a step ahead. Shamita has wrapped her arms around her elbows and is looking at her own feet as she walks. Once in a while, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear gently with her slim fingers.
They enter Aunty’s Café. I stand at a safe distance, far enough for them to neglect and close enough for me to observe.
I kept my eyes on them. And they kept a distance between them.
Awkwardness lingers between them, filling them up to their brims with an insipid embarrassment. They walk together to the centre of the Café and seat themselves in a position where they can attract everybody’s eyes. And they do, feeling much more awkward and embarrassed than before. After fifteen seconds of the wordless rezendevous they start looking around for escape. They need saviours. And I don’t want to budge from my position. Doing it meant spoiling Piyush’s hard put in effort and defying his trust in his gods. I stood there awaiting action. The situation had come unprepared for Shamita. Piyush was a classmate, but not a classmate who would ideally take her out for a breakfast. And going out with such an acquaintance on a sudden basis was suffocating her. She hugged herself tight in her discomfort. And as for Piyush, he was too prepared for the situation. So prepared that he couldn’t figure out what his exact course of action was. He was in a position every unprepared student is when the question paper lands on the desk before him like a stringless kite. He knows all the answers well, but has forgotten the questions to them. Both sit before each other as like strangers in the waiting lobby of an airport.
“Good morning all passengers…” The announcement blares on the speaker above their head. They look up. They look left. They look right. They look down. They look for it everywhere. It remains to be the untraceable speaker that rung in their ears and disappeared somewhere. They keep looking for it with restless moments of their heads and eyes without budging an inch from the positions their artists had sculpted them in.
Technology has always changed people’s lives. Then it transcended to change their individual lives and later their stand alone moments. Like it did for Piyush and Shamita now. Shamita looked into the mobile in her hand and typed something. Piyush jumped into the depths of his mobile to never surface back soon. Shamita started looking around again. And by the boon of technology, Preeti turns up there and sits beside Shamita. Piyush is outnumbered. But he doesn’t care. The depths of the mobile are too intriguing for him than the new ally his contender has gained.
Shamita and Preeti ask him something. He looks out of his mobile phone, answers briefly nodding his head and drowns in it again. They get up and leave the café without a breakfast.
I get hit by a small chip on my head. I look up. Sneha is standing on the terrace drying her hair. She smiles naughtily. I look around and smiles naughtily winking.
She pulls her smiling lips together and collects them to form a kiss. She sends it across. I send one back. This is more interesting now. Much more than watching those failed conversers head for their respective rooms. Sneha pretended to scratch her chest quickly flashing the tenderness of her ripening breasts contained in a pink brassiere and ran her hand over the satin, seducing me within a fraction of the second. Bitch! She knew how to give me a hard on. I ejected my tongue slowly and mimed a lick. I received a fiery smile in return. I could’ve walked up the wall to reach the terrace. I began walking towards the café. More precisely towards the wall that lead to the terrace. He stood leaning upon the railings, stripping virtually only for me. Her skin grew all over her clothes, pulling me towards her. I am about to set my foot on the huge pathway of whitewash that ended at her. I raise my foot. And the mobile phone in my pockets vibrates harder than it rings.
I stop half way. I take out my mobile and check its display screen. I see the expected name flashing on its screen.
I gritted my teeth and answered the call.
(Contd.)
©
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
7.c
“Coming na?” Shamita inquired over the phone, unsure of my answer.
There have been days when I have skipped my regular breakfast with her. The days when I drank till I dropped or was stoned at the dawn. Today wasn’t one of those days. So I placed a “Yup” on the reciever followed by “Ten minutes?...”
“Okay….I’ll give you a missed call when I leave…fine?”
“Fine” I said with a yawn.
I had just finished with my bath. A yawn now meant I needed to slep more. I could have slept right away. But I had just agreed to join Shamita for the breakfast. I sat down on the bed with my back resting lazily on the wall next to it. I checked the cigarette box for a quick fag. It was empty. I gave another yawn and shut my heavy eyelids.
Strain drained out of my muscles slowly, inch by inch. I felt restful as I lied with my eyes closed. Ragini’s words which were still looming over my head, settled upon me like a quilt. They soothed my spine seeping into it lightly. I was about to turn myself on my side to get cosier, when I heard the large dislodging of the bathroom latch. I broke out of my reverie with a shock. Piyush walked out the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He religiously walked to the little images of gods on the side table and prayedf before them.
“We are happy on your devotion towards us child!...” gods said to him in a booming voice which resembled mine.
“Shut up Anay!!...” Piyush said with closed eyes and joined hands.
“We are serious…Shamita is coming to meet you in 5 seconds…be ready…” Gods said again.
“Anay….let me pray!” Piyush was loosing his cool.
“Five…four…three…” Gods began the countdown, “two…one…”
My phone rang. A missed call from Shamita.
“There we go…” Gods said!
I went to him jumping out from the bed.
“Dress uo fast devotee… you are going to have your breakfast with your love today…” I said putting the ash from the incense stick on his forehead. “Vijayi Bhava!”
“What are you saying Anay?” Piyush snapped back with utter irritation.
“I am saying that Shamita is going for the breakfast at Aunty’s…and you be her company…”
“You crazy?”
“No…but you have to be…go…take her for a breakfast…”
“I can’t man!!.....I don’t know what to do…”he shivered at the thoughtr of it.
“Nothing….just sit and order her a breakfast…rest…your gods will take care of…” I threw a lesser smelling T-shirt and his perfectly soiled jeans towards him. “Go…”
“And you…?”
“I am suffering from a terrible hang over….so I slept off…”
I got another missed call from her.
“Go fast fucker….she is waiting…” I barked on him. The gods on the table shook a bit on hearing it.
He quickly dressed up and finished his daily lengthy consecrated confrontation in a haste.
I called up Shamita as he thrusted his thousand little belongings into his pockets.
“Hello Shamita…” I said in a made up ill voice, “I amhaving a bad headache…I think I’ll sleep for some time….by the way Piyush was also leaving for a breakfast…I thought he could join you…is it okay?”
After a brief annoyance over my deception, she accepted the optional company of Piyush.
“He is coming down now…okay?...bye!” I finished the conversation and turned to Piyush.
He was looking curiosly at me.
“What?” I said shaking his eyes off me.. “Go fast…She is waiting…”
“But….how will I manage?” he still had a doubt.
I pointed a finger at the gods.
“It’s their repayment time…they have to pay bak for those incense sticks now…” I said with a smile.
Piyush hastily touched their images thrice and left almost running.
Sometimes people perform the virtuous of deeds for a moment of rest.
(Contd.)
© 2009
There have been days when I have skipped my regular breakfast with her. The days when I drank till I dropped or was stoned at the dawn. Today wasn’t one of those days. So I placed a “Yup” on the reciever followed by “Ten minutes?...”
“Okay….I’ll give you a missed call when I leave…fine?”
“Fine” I said with a yawn.
I had just finished with my bath. A yawn now meant I needed to slep more. I could have slept right away. But I had just agreed to join Shamita for the breakfast. I sat down on the bed with my back resting lazily on the wall next to it. I checked the cigarette box for a quick fag. It was empty. I gave another yawn and shut my heavy eyelids.
Strain drained out of my muscles slowly, inch by inch. I felt restful as I lied with my eyes closed. Ragini’s words which were still looming over my head, settled upon me like a quilt. They soothed my spine seeping into it lightly. I was about to turn myself on my side to get cosier, when I heard the large dislodging of the bathroom latch. I broke out of my reverie with a shock. Piyush walked out the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He religiously walked to the little images of gods on the side table and prayedf before them.
“We are happy on your devotion towards us child!...” gods said to him in a booming voice which resembled mine.
“Shut up Anay!!...” Piyush said with closed eyes and joined hands.
“We are serious…Shamita is coming to meet you in 5 seconds…be ready…” Gods said again.
“Anay….let me pray!” Piyush was loosing his cool.
“Five…four…three…” Gods began the countdown, “two…one…”
My phone rang. A missed call from Shamita.
“There we go…” Gods said!
I went to him jumping out from the bed.
“Dress uo fast devotee… you are going to have your breakfast with your love today…” I said putting the ash from the incense stick on his forehead. “Vijayi Bhava!”
“What are you saying Anay?” Piyush snapped back with utter irritation.
“I am saying that Shamita is going for the breakfast at Aunty’s…and you be her company…”
“You crazy?”
“No…but you have to be…go…take her for a breakfast…”
“I can’t man!!.....I don’t know what to do…”he shivered at the thoughtr of it.
“Nothing….just sit and order her a breakfast…rest…your gods will take care of…” I threw a lesser smelling T-shirt and his perfectly soiled jeans towards him. “Go…”
“And you…?”
“I am suffering from a terrible hang over….so I slept off…”
I got another missed call from her.
“Go fast fucker….she is waiting…” I barked on him. The gods on the table shook a bit on hearing it.
He quickly dressed up and finished his daily lengthy consecrated confrontation in a haste.
I called up Shamita as he thrusted his thousand little belongings into his pockets.
“Hello Shamita…” I said in a made up ill voice, “I amhaving a bad headache…I think I’ll sleep for some time….by the way Piyush was also leaving for a breakfast…I thought he could join you…is it okay?”
After a brief annoyance over my deception, she accepted the optional company of Piyush.
“He is coming down now…okay?...bye!” I finished the conversation and turned to Piyush.
He was looking curiosly at me.
“What?” I said shaking his eyes off me.. “Go fast…She is waiting…”
“But….how will I manage?” he still had a doubt.
I pointed a finger at the gods.
“It’s their repayment time…they have to pay bak for those incense sticks now…” I said with a smile.
Piyush hastily touched their images thrice and left almost running.
Sometimes people perform the virtuous of deeds for a moment of rest.
(Contd.)
© 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
7. b
I took a closer look and the gush of happiness in me fizzed out in a moment. It had an unfamiliar number on it. Not any from my contact list. It had no name below it. But knowing Apu well, I knew she would take her pleasure in surprising me this way. But what if it wasn’t her? Who else would it be? Who else had received my msg asking to return back? There was one clear answer!
Out of excitement I called back immidiately! Then I quickly disconnected out of fear.
A different voice answered the call. Different yet familiar. Not Apu for sure! I was a bit confused.
“Hello?!” I said a bit unsure about the reciever.
“Hello!!” the confident voice almost shouted from the other side.
“…..Who’s this?”
“Kyun re?...Awaaj bhi bhool gaya meri?”
God!!! Such ‘Guess who am I?’ phone calls always intrigue me somehow. I feel like giving sophisticated answers like ‘Ohhh…the Gay hair dresser I met in train??!!...How are you buddy…Did you enjoy sucking on that uncle??’ for males and “Ohhh…Britney Spears??!!...I was just seeing your hot pics on a banned site!!”
“Haan…bolo ab kaisi ho!!” I said with a false confidence.
“Tu bhi naa…poora mazaa kharaab kar deta hai” The voice fell for my trick! “I thot u wud guess!!....and I wud know who you are hitting on these days… ” Now I got the voice. It was Ragini! A song of yesteryear. A melody of melancholy. A tune that took me back to the past.
“And you thought I would not recognise your voice!” I said with a pretentious pride for my guessing ability.
“You didn’t in the beginning!” She argued.
“No I didn’t…I thought it was Britney Spears!” I replied.
“Yeah yeah!...liar!” she said laughing.
I was sure she was blushing on phone. I knew her well. But then, how did she call up when I had sent a message to Apu. And where the damn did she call me up with this number from! I was completely confused!
“Did you get my message?” I asked eagerly to clear the confusion.
“No!...why?...did u send me one??” curiousity filled into her.
“Yeah!”
“What’s it about?”
“You!”
“What about me?”
“Nothing…just that I was missing you!” I had to say something!
“I didn’t get it…..send it agaion please…I want to read it!” Soup!!
“Yup!” I said in an assuring tone.
“Thanks!....Listen…I am coming back next week!” she said excitedly.
“For?”
“A week….got classes….” She said regretfully.
“Reason?”
“Because you were missing me!”
I smiled. And I know she was smiling too.
“When are you coming?” I asked. I had a plan brewing up in my mind.
“On first!” she said gaily!
I smiled to myself.
Soon a new month would begin and life would fill up with happiness!
(Contd.)
©
Out of excitement I called back immidiately! Then I quickly disconnected out of fear.
A different voice answered the call. Different yet familiar. Not Apu for sure! I was a bit confused.
“Hello?!” I said a bit unsure about the reciever.
“Hello!!” the confident voice almost shouted from the other side.
“…..Who’s this?”
“Kyun re?...Awaaj bhi bhool gaya meri?”
God!!! Such ‘Guess who am I?’ phone calls always intrigue me somehow. I feel like giving sophisticated answers like ‘Ohhh…the Gay hair dresser I met in train??!!...How are you buddy…Did you enjoy sucking on that uncle??’ for males and “Ohhh…Britney Spears??!!...I was just seeing your hot pics on a banned site!!”
“Haan…bolo ab kaisi ho!!” I said with a false confidence.
“Tu bhi naa…poora mazaa kharaab kar deta hai” The voice fell for my trick! “I thot u wud guess!!....and I wud know who you are hitting on these days… ” Now I got the voice. It was Ragini! A song of yesteryear. A melody of melancholy. A tune that took me back to the past.
“And you thought I would not recognise your voice!” I said with a pretentious pride for my guessing ability.
“You didn’t in the beginning!” She argued.
“No I didn’t…I thought it was Britney Spears!” I replied.
“Yeah yeah!...liar!” she said laughing.
I was sure she was blushing on phone. I knew her well. But then, how did she call up when I had sent a message to Apu. And where the damn did she call me up with this number from! I was completely confused!
“Did you get my message?” I asked eagerly to clear the confusion.
“No!...why?...did u send me one??” curiousity filled into her.
“Yeah!”
“What’s it about?”
“You!”
“What about me?”
“Nothing…just that I was missing you!” I had to say something!
“I didn’t get it…..send it agaion please…I want to read it!” Soup!!
“Yup!” I said in an assuring tone.
“Thanks!....Listen…I am coming back next week!” she said excitedly.
“For?”
“A week….got classes….” She said regretfully.
“Reason?”
“Because you were missing me!”
I smiled. And I know she was smiling too.
“When are you coming?” I asked. I had a plan brewing up in my mind.
“On first!” she said gaily!
I smiled to myself.
Soon a new month would begin and life would fill up with happiness!
(Contd.)
©
Chapter &
7. a
I closed the Bhagwad Geeta on my lap. It was the only way I could connect to Apu. Her number was unreachable. My emails to her came back with a delivery faluire notice. She never came on chats. And I didn’t even have her address. Which meant I couldn’t even write her a letter if I wanted to. Probably she didn’t want to talk.
But I didn’t have much objection to that. She could just receive my call and stay quiet. Or just read my mail without replying. Or be idle on chat without replying to whatever I typed. Or just read my letter and then crumpled it. I did not want her to talk. I only wanted to express myself to her. To tell her about the vacuum her absence had created. To tell her about the turbulances within me. To tell her about the turmoil I was going through in her absence. And carelessly sidelining the reservation she had set between us, I would have urged her to come back. Or even begged for it. I would have poured in every bit of my heart in my words and made her weep silently. Maybe she knew that I would do it. And that was exactly why she had purposely detached herself from me. To prevent my words from effecting her. And had left me just a single link of connection with her. The Bhagwad Geeta.
I didn’t read the Bhagwad Geeta. I talked to Apu through it. I told her how much I missed her. How much I needed her. And how incomplete I was without her. I thought she heard it. I imagined it plainly. But the fact that she didn’t even have a hint of it put me all down. And I abruptly closed the book. And marked the page with the lace I had flipped off her on our last night together, devoiding her of a well functional bra. The touch of it involuntarily filled my eyes with tears and choked my throat. So I touched it as minimally as I could. Holding the tip most of the time to place it as a book mark. But when Apu filled my heart, I softly ran my fingers over it. It felt as if I was touching her. It had an element of her in it. Because it had been closest to the part which she was totally composed of. Her heart. A crazy girl’s crazy heart.
I kept the book aside and switche off the reading light. I lied down on the bed with the revived pain of Apu still twirling within me. This was one of the days people slept early. Amongst the days at the end of the month when there wasn’t much cash left in the pocket to splurge. A single beer and a two cigarettes in this time was the highest point of enjoyment. But it wasn’t to last long. Soon a new month would begin and life would fill up with happiness. Living in dire straits for a few days was always acceptable on that term.
I picked out a cigarette from our common box and went to the terrace with my mobile. I light it with my duplicate Zippo and tried calling Apu once again. It was unreachable. I typed her a message, just hoping that someday she would get it. Little hopes gets people to do weirdest of things at time. Even when you know that things aren’t possible, you try out their possibility. Ending up disappointing yourself once more.
‘I wnt u badly. Let thngs nt b lk b4 if u wnt. Bt atlst tlk 2 me. lstn 2 me. I hv no1 2 evn tlk 2. I fl so damn lonly widout u. plz cm bck. lu ’
I pressed the send button. The message was sent. I pointlessly waited for the delivery report that was never to come. It didn’t come anyway.
I smoked my cigarette deeper. I wanted the smoke to fill me up. I wanted it to burn down the lump in my throat. I wanted it to lighten the heaviness in my chest. I sent out a prolonged exhale of smoke.
The night was filled with silence. Stray dogs barked at a far off distance. I smoked hopelessly leaning on a terrace railing . My hopes slowly drowned in the smoke ofmy cigarette. I was on the last puff, healed of pain and baseless hopes.
I smoked a deep last puff and I felt something vibrate in my pocket.
My message tone suddenly filled the silence of the night.
I hurriedly pulled out the mobile from my pocket and looked at its screen.
‘One message received’ it said.
I quickly punched the ‘view’ button.
It opened.
‘I m cmng nxt wk.whr r u?’ it said.
A blast of happiness burst within me. I was split into pieces each filled with happiness. I looked at the message again.
I took a closer look and the gush of happiness in me fizzed out in a moment.
(Contd.)
©
Saturday, September 12, 2009
6.e
“I can read it on his face….” The televisor said.
“What?” The old blind king asked curiously.
“The archer prince…”
“What about him?” The king rolled a grape in his hand. His eyes fixed on televisor’s eyes. “Has he picked up the bow yet??”
“Nope…but its clearly written on his face….”
“What?”
“That he won’t pick it up ever…” The televisor said in a slow lingering tone.
“How do you know that ?…”
“Dejection!...on his face…” The televisor hummed the words that he spoke.
“And what does he say?” The king entered into his inquisitive role.
“He says….that he will be a sinner if he attacks his kin…” The televisor replied gravely.
“And then…what did the flutist say?” The king asked incomprehensively.
“He says…when you are fighting a war for justice…there is no right and wrong…no sin or salvation…there is only one thing…and that is…the stand…and you have a correct stand…so pick up your weapons…..and begin the war…” The voice of the televisor resembled that of the flutist.
“What are his consultation fees?” The old blind king asked hopefully.
“What?!…” The televisor asked coming back to his senses with a suden shock.
“What are his consultation fees?...can we hire him?... I always asked my eldest son to change the strategist…but the dumbarse just wants to stick to his uncle’s arse….and upon that…my wife!….she is so adamant on keeping him as the strategist…sometimes I feel I have no power at all…” the king unfolded his helpless brfore the televisor.
“But you are the king sir…why do you have to listen to her?” the televisor raised a doubt from the bottom of his heart.
“Come on…she gave up her social life for my sake….she gave up her career and looked after the children…havung hundred of thm is like running a school you know….each one has a different tantrum…she even gave up her vision for me…even I am obliged...”
“Do you think she did it just because she could blackmail you with her wants?”
“Maybe…” The king rubbed his chin.
“Or maybe she is madly in love with you…” The televisor presented his argument.
“How can you say that?”
“After knowing that you are blind….should could have gone a thousand ways…but she always stuck to you and your blindness….” The televisor elaborated on his thought.
The king only shook his head. The televisor smiled.
“So…” the king returned to the topic to divert the previous one. “can we hire the flutist?”
“No!” said the televisor firmly. “We can’t…he is into a contract with the archer and his brothers…and he is amongst the very few….who repect the contract…and anyways….nowadays he only takes challenging jobs…like this five brother’s case…he takes up a job where he can work towards turning the fortunes…rather than bathing in the existing fortune without any challenge… ”
“Hmm” The king nodded.
“Should I proceed?” The televisor asked.
“Yeah yeah…sure!”
“The archer prince says….if I kill my kin….I will be sinner…my hands will be stained by the blood of my near and dear ones….my conscience doesn’t permit it…” The televisor began with his reporting.
“And then….what did the flutist do?” Asked the king eagerly. According to the golden law that an old aged enterprenuer has a stark eagerness for knowing every business movement. This quest takes them into an intrusion into their target’s personal lives. Because they believe that these are the true places where all actions are born.
“Then why couldn’t your conscience save your wife from being malhandled…asked the flutist…”
“Did it help?”
“No…he said it with a true feeling of disappointment”
“Then what did?”
Televisor closed his eyes again and reached the battleground through his soul. When he came back the old blind king was still equally eager to know what happened further. The televisor was quiet.
“What?” king’s face twisted wearily as he asked the televisor. “What helped?”
“It ‘sa disourse in the middle of the field” The televisor warned.
“I am ready…what is it?!” the king said firmly.
“A logic…” The televisor said gravely.
“What logic?” The king was desperate to know the answer.
The televisor began.
“The flutist said to the archer…Karmanye vaadhika rasye maa faleshu kadaachanam…”
“And it means?” The king was harangued.
“It means… You are only entitled to right action…and not to its fruits... so don’t expect them now…whatever be it good or bad…they should never motivate or demotivate you to act righteously…”
(Contd.)
©
“What?” The old blind king asked curiously.
“The archer prince…”
“What about him?” The king rolled a grape in his hand. His eyes fixed on televisor’s eyes. “Has he picked up the bow yet??”
“Nope…but its clearly written on his face….”
“What?”
“That he won’t pick it up ever…” The televisor said in a slow lingering tone.
“How do you know that ?…”
“Dejection!...on his face…” The televisor hummed the words that he spoke.
“And what does he say?” The king entered into his inquisitive role.
“He says….that he will be a sinner if he attacks his kin…” The televisor replied gravely.
“And then…what did the flutist say?” The king asked incomprehensively.
“He says…when you are fighting a war for justice…there is no right and wrong…no sin or salvation…there is only one thing…and that is…the stand…and you have a correct stand…so pick up your weapons…..and begin the war…” The voice of the televisor resembled that of the flutist.
“What are his consultation fees?” The old blind king asked hopefully.
“What?!…” The televisor asked coming back to his senses with a suden shock.
“What are his consultation fees?...can we hire him?... I always asked my eldest son to change the strategist…but the dumbarse just wants to stick to his uncle’s arse….and upon that…my wife!….she is so adamant on keeping him as the strategist…sometimes I feel I have no power at all…” the king unfolded his helpless brfore the televisor.
“But you are the king sir…why do you have to listen to her?” the televisor raised a doubt from the bottom of his heart.
“Come on…she gave up her social life for my sake….she gave up her career and looked after the children…havung hundred of thm is like running a school you know….each one has a different tantrum…she even gave up her vision for me…even I am obliged...”
“Do you think she did it just because she could blackmail you with her wants?”
“Maybe…” The king rubbed his chin.
“Or maybe she is madly in love with you…” The televisor presented his argument.
“How can you say that?”
“After knowing that you are blind….should could have gone a thousand ways…but she always stuck to you and your blindness….” The televisor elaborated on his thought.
The king only shook his head. The televisor smiled.
“So…” the king returned to the topic to divert the previous one. “can we hire the flutist?”
“No!” said the televisor firmly. “We can’t…he is into a contract with the archer and his brothers…and he is amongst the very few….who repect the contract…and anyways….nowadays he only takes challenging jobs…like this five brother’s case…he takes up a job where he can work towards turning the fortunes…rather than bathing in the existing fortune without any challenge… ”
“Hmm” The king nodded.
“Should I proceed?” The televisor asked.
“Yeah yeah…sure!”
“The archer prince says….if I kill my kin….I will be sinner…my hands will be stained by the blood of my near and dear ones….my conscience doesn’t permit it…” The televisor began with his reporting.
“And then….what did the flutist do?” Asked the king eagerly. According to the golden law that an old aged enterprenuer has a stark eagerness for knowing every business movement. This quest takes them into an intrusion into their target’s personal lives. Because they believe that these are the true places where all actions are born.
“Then why couldn’t your conscience save your wife from being malhandled…asked the flutist…”
“Did it help?”
“No…he said it with a true feeling of disappointment”
“Then what did?”
Televisor closed his eyes again and reached the battleground through his soul. When he came back the old blind king was still equally eager to know what happened further. The televisor was quiet.
“What?” king’s face twisted wearily as he asked the televisor. “What helped?”
“It ‘sa disourse in the middle of the field” The televisor warned.
“I am ready…what is it?!” the king said firmly.
“A logic…” The televisor said gravely.
“What logic?” The king was desperate to know the answer.
The televisor began.
“The flutist said to the archer…Karmanye vaadhika rasye maa faleshu kadaachanam…”
“And it means?” The king was harangued.
“It means… You are only entitled to right action…and not to its fruits... so don’t expect them now…whatever be it good or bad…they should never motivate or demotivate you to act righteously…”
(Contd.)
©
Sunday, September 6, 2009
6.e
“She is a good girl….and…she is very beautiful…and…she is smart….and intelligent…and…” He dragged the pause too long.
“I asked what all you know….not how she is…” I asked flatly.
“She is independent….and extrovert…and….” He was done with his quota of adjectives for the love of his life. The sense I put in the question, was exactly what he hadn’t got. He continued counting theoretical virtues possessed by Shamita according to him. All of which were wrong of course. And I could see my effort going down his sweat.
“And??...”
“And…That’s it!” he accepted defeat.
“That’s it?...that is all you know about her?” I asked curtly.
“Umm…yes!…”
“And you plan to woo her with this information?”
“….” He fell silent. His face flashed the utter confusion that had jumbled up his mind.
“When you want to woo a girl…first know her…and know her well…” I threw a line at him. And it broke on his forehead. He nodded in incomplete comprehension.
I was about to take my next sip when he suddenlty blurted out.
“But how can I do this??”
I took the sip sidelining his question for a moment and then got back to him.
“By getting close to her….” And before he could present me with his next dumb question, I said “and you need to spend more time with her….”
His face was telling me that I had caught him right. Now all I had to do was stretch this further and wind him in it.
“…And you will have to do this alone…” I said with finality.
He turned towards me in surprise.
“What happened?” I asked him.
“Alone?...Won’t you be with me?”
“Of course I will be!...where will I go?”
“Then…?” I could see clear incomprehension in his eyes!
“Then…I can’t do all this for you….it is something which only you can do for yourself….you don’t expect someone to acratch youre balls for you…there are certain things which one has to do for oneself…what??”
“Yeah…” he nodded gravely, “But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t talk with her much….then how will I….?” his voide had a regretful tone to it.
I took another sip from the bottle. I was thoroughly enjoying this session of counselling. I was feeling like God!
“That you will have to figure out…all I can do is…help you break the ice…”
“Yeah man….I need serious help with that….” He was almost begging before me.
“How to take it forward is your talent…” I warned him again for fun.
“But…Will I be able to do it?” His doubts didn’t seem to end upon a single question.
“Once you fall into the water…you learn to swim on your own!”
“It is possible naa??...I mean…I will succeed na??”
“You have to man….its a do or die situation…she may be a bit rigid in the initial stages…but you have to be patient…women are unpredictable…only way to deal with this is patience…”
“Hmm…” he nodded again in approval.
“And yes….dont think about success and failure now….let it begin first…don’t think of the outcome before you begin the war….”
“No man….nothing like that…if it had been hitting someone….i would have known what to do….or a cricket match….or an exam…..i know how to tackle…..but this is different…” He gthered back his ego.
“That’s what….this is different…with me on your side….you don’t have to worry…I will take care to it that you win her heart….”
“I trust you man!!”
“Don’t!!...I could fail too!”
“….” He was scared.
“So could you….but even if u do….I promise you…the experience of being in love will be unforgettable!!”
He was still silent.
“I can assure you success…but I can’t guarantee it to you….No body can guarantee anything in this world…you have to put in your efforts without expecting anything…if you love her truly….will you be able to do it….?”
“Yes” He said firmly.
“Good!” I said.
I had earned my trump card.
(Contd.)
“I asked what all you know….not how she is…” I asked flatly.
“She is independent….and extrovert…and….” He was done with his quota of adjectives for the love of his life. The sense I put in the question, was exactly what he hadn’t got. He continued counting theoretical virtues possessed by Shamita according to him. All of which were wrong of course. And I could see my effort going down his sweat.
“And??...”
“And…That’s it!” he accepted defeat.
“That’s it?...that is all you know about her?” I asked curtly.
“Umm…yes!…”
“And you plan to woo her with this information?”
“….” He fell silent. His face flashed the utter confusion that had jumbled up his mind.
“When you want to woo a girl…first know her…and know her well…” I threw a line at him. And it broke on his forehead. He nodded in incomplete comprehension.
I was about to take my next sip when he suddenlty blurted out.
“But how can I do this??”
I took the sip sidelining his question for a moment and then got back to him.
“By getting close to her….” And before he could present me with his next dumb question, I said “and you need to spend more time with her….”
His face was telling me that I had caught him right. Now all I had to do was stretch this further and wind him in it.
“…And you will have to do this alone…” I said with finality.
He turned towards me in surprise.
“What happened?” I asked him.
“Alone?...Won’t you be with me?”
“Of course I will be!...where will I go?”
“Then…?” I could see clear incomprehension in his eyes!
“Then…I can’t do all this for you….it is something which only you can do for yourself….you don’t expect someone to acratch youre balls for you…there are certain things which one has to do for oneself…what??”
“Yeah…” he nodded gravely, “But…”
“But what?”
“I don’t talk with her much….then how will I….?” his voide had a regretful tone to it.
I took another sip from the bottle. I was thoroughly enjoying this session of counselling. I was feeling like God!
“That you will have to figure out…all I can do is…help you break the ice…”
“Yeah man….I need serious help with that….” He was almost begging before me.
“How to take it forward is your talent…” I warned him again for fun.
“But…Will I be able to do it?” His doubts didn’t seem to end upon a single question.
“Once you fall into the water…you learn to swim on your own!”
“It is possible naa??...I mean…I will succeed na??”
“You have to man….its a do or die situation…she may be a bit rigid in the initial stages…but you have to be patient…women are unpredictable…only way to deal with this is patience…”
“Hmm…” he nodded again in approval.
“And yes….dont think about success and failure now….let it begin first…don’t think of the outcome before you begin the war….”
“No man….nothing like that…if it had been hitting someone….i would have known what to do….or a cricket match….or an exam…..i know how to tackle…..but this is different…” He gthered back his ego.
“That’s what….this is different…with me on your side….you don’t have to worry…I will take care to it that you win her heart….”
“I trust you man!!”
“Don’t!!...I could fail too!”
“….” He was scared.
“So could you….but even if u do….I promise you…the experience of being in love will be unforgettable!!”
He was still silent.
“I can assure you success…but I can’t guarantee it to you….No body can guarantee anything in this world…you have to put in your efforts without expecting anything…if you love her truly….will you be able to do it….?”
“Yes” He said firmly.
“Good!” I said.
I had earned my trump card.
(Contd.)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
6. d
Expressway is different in the mornings. At night it is a sea of darkness. If there is moonlight to guide you, the mountains around it look like waves which rose high and froze themselves. Turning into the large creases on land that a mighty hand had forgotten to wipe out. The head light of the vehicle passing by lightened up the entire premise, and you could see the real face of the mountains, moving away the veil of darkness that covered them. Like an enticing face peeping out of a black cloak. During the day, these creases take up clear shapes. Mountains and hillocks painted in strokes of green and brown. And a few touch ups of black, for the rocks that peep out from the green and brown carpet.
The cars which run on the expressway at night are just two eyes of light, finding their way in darkness, followed by two red eyes on the back, keeping an eye on the rash followers. In the sunshine, they transform into colourful celestial bodies, blazing like shivering flames of a fireball.
At night, the breeze which blows over the expressway, chills youir bones. During the day time, the same breeze keeps you yearning for more. It a gush of soothing coolness that blows across the heated land. But on the rock under the huge mango tree, it is never so hot. The shade is as cool as the shadow of night clouds and the passing wind, which makes the leaves rattle like a tambourine, livens you up in an otherwise hot daylight. And chilled beer which slides down through your system, cooling every cell in your throat to your belly, makes the endeavour to reach the place worthwhile.
I take the first sip from the bottle in my hand. I gulp it down, and it goes down chilling my chest and settles in my belly. I can feel it going down my heated body.
“Tell me….what do you know about Shamita?” I ask him.
“She is a good girl….and…she is very beautiful…and…she is smart….and inteligent…and…”
We were amidst one of the counselling sessions which we had decided to conduct, so that Piyush could get some guidance on wooing Shamita.
***
“You have to help me now…” He said to me as I washed my hands.
“I know…” I replied plainly.
“Only you can help me…” He was about to say something further.
“I know…” I interrupted him coldly.
“Will you?” He inquired hesitantly.
“Yes…I will” I smiled as him and wiped my hands.
“Tell me everything…about her….and everything about girls….and about making them fall in love with you…and impressing them….and wooing them…everything…I want her in my life at any cost…” He said frantically.
“Yes…I will” The smile on my face didn’t fade out. It grew wise. Like the one that Krishna bears in his pictures.
“When?” He asked in excitement.
“Today afternoon onwards…” I replied patting his arm in assurance.
“Thank You Anay!!” He said hugging me tight.
***
The truth was, there was no such way in which one could woo someone. If that would have been the case, most hopeless of guys wouldn’t have got hottest of girls. It’s all a stroke of luck. Or more a psychological reaction to a pecularity of an ability in you, that rings the bell in the opposite person. Marriages are made in heaven. On earth, we only legalise them. What we get from them, joys or sorrows, is all our destiny. The most we can do is break them and try once more. Till our quest ends. At times it might never seem to end. That is the time to realise the supreme truth again. And that is ‘Marriages are made in heaven’. If someone is made for you, you won’t be able to deny their presence in your life, even amongst the countless other presences in it, including the significant ones. And if it is not to be so, each of your ceaseless attempts to rivet them to your life, fail miserably, taking you farther from the then considered soulmate of yours. This is the only way in which everything in the soulmate business can be depicted. Rest all are just words of void wisdom.
The only effort you have to take while hunting for the love of your life is not to take any effort. It will happen on its own. And if it doesn’t, it wasn’t ever to happen.
But then, these words are of no use to me when it comes to Piyush. Because if he realised, understood and followed this truth, I would loose every bit of importance that I maintained in his life. Which clearly would lead to the deletion of my role from his life. And so would it mark the end of my purpose. That was clearly not the reason why I had stood up to help him in first place. I had to give him some gyaan in order to keep him glued to my fingers. And this counselling was the medium for it. Giving away the truth wasn’t wise. It would mean clear loss of faith in me. On the other hand, the benefit of not disclosing it was that, if at all Piyush lost faith in my guidance, I coul bring him back to me by suggesting a hundred false ideas, and blame the failure of the earlier ones on the circumstances. The truth would leave any place for me in his life. So I decided to begin a farce of counselling him, and continue it through the end.
Sometimes, a lie of relief, is worth a lot more than thousand painful truths.
I begin.
I take the first sip from the bottle in my hand. I gulp it down, and it goes down chilling my chest and settles in my belly. I can feel it going down my heated body.
“Tell me….what do you know about Shamita?” I ask him.
(Contd.)
The cars which run on the expressway at night are just two eyes of light, finding their way in darkness, followed by two red eyes on the back, keeping an eye on the rash followers. In the sunshine, they transform into colourful celestial bodies, blazing like shivering flames of a fireball.
At night, the breeze which blows over the expressway, chills youir bones. During the day time, the same breeze keeps you yearning for more. It a gush of soothing coolness that blows across the heated land. But on the rock under the huge mango tree, it is never so hot. The shade is as cool as the shadow of night clouds and the passing wind, which makes the leaves rattle like a tambourine, livens you up in an otherwise hot daylight. And chilled beer which slides down through your system, cooling every cell in your throat to your belly, makes the endeavour to reach the place worthwhile.
I take the first sip from the bottle in my hand. I gulp it down, and it goes down chilling my chest and settles in my belly. I can feel it going down my heated body.
“Tell me….what do you know about Shamita?” I ask him.
“She is a good girl….and…she is very beautiful…and…she is smart….and inteligent…and…”
We were amidst one of the counselling sessions which we had decided to conduct, so that Piyush could get some guidance on wooing Shamita.
***
“You have to help me now…” He said to me as I washed my hands.
“I know…” I replied plainly.
“Only you can help me…” He was about to say something further.
“I know…” I interrupted him coldly.
“Will you?” He inquired hesitantly.
“Yes…I will” I smiled as him and wiped my hands.
“Tell me everything…about her….and everything about girls….and about making them fall in love with you…and impressing them….and wooing them…everything…I want her in my life at any cost…” He said frantically.
“Yes…I will” The smile on my face didn’t fade out. It grew wise. Like the one that Krishna bears in his pictures.
“When?” He asked in excitement.
“Today afternoon onwards…” I replied patting his arm in assurance.
“Thank You Anay!!” He said hugging me tight.
***
The truth was, there was no such way in which one could woo someone. If that would have been the case, most hopeless of guys wouldn’t have got hottest of girls. It’s all a stroke of luck. Or more a psychological reaction to a pecularity of an ability in you, that rings the bell in the opposite person. Marriages are made in heaven. On earth, we only legalise them. What we get from them, joys or sorrows, is all our destiny. The most we can do is break them and try once more. Till our quest ends. At times it might never seem to end. That is the time to realise the supreme truth again. And that is ‘Marriages are made in heaven’. If someone is made for you, you won’t be able to deny their presence in your life, even amongst the countless other presences in it, including the significant ones. And if it is not to be so, each of your ceaseless attempts to rivet them to your life, fail miserably, taking you farther from the then considered soulmate of yours. This is the only way in which everything in the soulmate business can be depicted. Rest all are just words of void wisdom.
The only effort you have to take while hunting for the love of your life is not to take any effort. It will happen on its own. And if it doesn’t, it wasn’t ever to happen.
But then, these words are of no use to me when it comes to Piyush. Because if he realised, understood and followed this truth, I would loose every bit of importance that I maintained in his life. Which clearly would lead to the deletion of my role from his life. And so would it mark the end of my purpose. That was clearly not the reason why I had stood up to help him in first place. I had to give him some gyaan in order to keep him glued to my fingers. And this counselling was the medium for it. Giving away the truth wasn’t wise. It would mean clear loss of faith in me. On the other hand, the benefit of not disclosing it was that, if at all Piyush lost faith in my guidance, I coul bring him back to me by suggesting a hundred false ideas, and blame the failure of the earlier ones on the circumstances. The truth would leave any place for me in his life. So I decided to begin a farce of counselling him, and continue it through the end.
Sometimes, a lie of relief, is worth a lot more than thousand painful truths.
I begin.
I take the first sip from the bottle in my hand. I gulp it down, and it goes down chilling my chest and settles in my belly. I can feel it going down my heated body.
“Tell me….what do you know about Shamita?” I ask him.
(Contd.)
Friday, September 4, 2009
6.c
Piyush held my feet in despair.
It generated an utter despise for him within me.
“Or else…I am out of it…no more of it….It’s all over for me…” He said in a pitiful voice.
I had a strong urge to jerk my leg and kick this idol of melodrama away. What was he trying to blackmail me with. What was I to loose if he quit it. It was his life. It was his love. What did I have to do with it. I did have my intentions. But what did he know about them. His lame threat was based on a hypothetical sentimental argument of me not being able to bear his pain as a true friend. The kick justified its purpose.
I pulled back my leg and stood up. Determined to neglect his eye-watering proposal, I walked towards the edge of the terrace to spit the lather that had gathered in my mouth.
I stood leaning on it, ready to spit and I saw Harshad whizzing by on his motorbike on the road besides our bungalow. I stopped for a moment. I aimed at the edge of the road and spat hard. I aimed a bit away from the target. Nevertheless better. I knew now why I had to stand by Piyush.
I turned back and shouted in Piyush’s direction.
“Then get out of it you arsehole!!...” Yet I didn’t want to excuse him so easily. “I don’t care…what have I got to do with it??...”
He looked at me with an unbearable shock.
“Its not my fucking problem…” I continued. “Go get your life screwed up!…Who am I to tell you?...”
“You are…” I began.
“Nobody!!” I didn’t let him talk at all.”…What right you have over your life?....its what they have…that Harshad and his bastard friends…so give up the love of your life for them…right?!”
“No man!...”
“Yes Man!!...that’s why you are yearning so much to give it up…The last night’s incidence didn’t seem to put any sense into your senseless head…That basterd doesn’t isnt worth of it….All you need to do is open your eyes and see…. …he…is...not…your friend any more!!!” I shouted the last sentence on his face.
“But wasn’t that because I betrayed him in first place….” He said innocently.
Seeing his lame stand over the matter, I was inspired to give a sharper edge of harshness to my words.
“It’s all in your mind…deal with this self pitied guilty complex of yours first…you fucker…And then come to me… So long as you don’t stop this bullshit of yours…I am not helping you….”
“And you shouldn’t….nobody should help a cheater…” He said in a same pitiful tone as before.
It was irritating me now. I could have pissed on his face and left the terrace. But I had a reason to stay.
“Finally….last time….I am not going to repeat it….three things…firstly…stop being a sissy….go jerk off in the loo and remind yourself that you are a man….and secondly….you don’t kill….when you kill a killer….and the third and the most important thing…If you really love someone….stand by your love and not the world…now sit here…think what you want….and then come down and stand outside the loo…coz’ I am going to shit now!…” I finished my sentence on the rudest note to create an impact and left.
I sat on the ceramic throne relaxed myself on the septic tank. I was feeling a fountain of excitement within me. The anticipation of his reaction towards my ultimatum was tickling my guts. I was feeling a gush of laughter bubbling inside me, eager to burst out. I covered my mouth with my palm and began laughing sliently.
With a smile on my face, I emptied my bowels and concluded the aligned tasks. After a gaining a complete control over my laughter muscles, I got up from the throne and I wore back my shorts. I unlatch the door to rush for a handwash. I hate not having a basin in the loo itself. Its ugly to wave your hands all the way to the wash basin to clean them. Usually after a session in the loo, I am in extreme hurry to wash my hands off.
I open the door and move a step back in a shock. Piyush stands at the door like a zombie. Only thing that differentiates him is the determination on his face.
“What?!” I ask in the state of shock, preventing myself from falling back by hoding the door handle.
“I will stand up for my love!” He says with the ferocity of a resolute warrior. “I thought over it…I want Shmita…” he continued with a stream of love flowing out of the solid black rock of staunchness. And finally he gathered tears in his eyes. In a choked voice he said,
“I need her!” The world stood still for those moments of revelation.
“I need to wash my hands….” I said with my determination.
(Contd.)
It generated an utter despise for him within me.
“Or else…I am out of it…no more of it….It’s all over for me…” He said in a pitiful voice.
I had a strong urge to jerk my leg and kick this idol of melodrama away. What was he trying to blackmail me with. What was I to loose if he quit it. It was his life. It was his love. What did I have to do with it. I did have my intentions. But what did he know about them. His lame threat was based on a hypothetical sentimental argument of me not being able to bear his pain as a true friend. The kick justified its purpose.
I pulled back my leg and stood up. Determined to neglect his eye-watering proposal, I walked towards the edge of the terrace to spit the lather that had gathered in my mouth.
I stood leaning on it, ready to spit and I saw Harshad whizzing by on his motorbike on the road besides our bungalow. I stopped for a moment. I aimed at the edge of the road and spat hard. I aimed a bit away from the target. Nevertheless better. I knew now why I had to stand by Piyush.
I turned back and shouted in Piyush’s direction.
“Then get out of it you arsehole!!...” Yet I didn’t want to excuse him so easily. “I don’t care…what have I got to do with it??...”
He looked at me with an unbearable shock.
“Its not my fucking problem…” I continued. “Go get your life screwed up!…Who am I to tell you?...”
“You are…” I began.
“Nobody!!” I didn’t let him talk at all.”…What right you have over your life?....its what they have…that Harshad and his bastard friends…so give up the love of your life for them…right?!”
“No man!...”
“Yes Man!!...that’s why you are yearning so much to give it up…The last night’s incidence didn’t seem to put any sense into your senseless head…That basterd doesn’t isnt worth of it….All you need to do is open your eyes and see…. …he…is...not…your friend any more!!!” I shouted the last sentence on his face.
“But wasn’t that because I betrayed him in first place….” He said innocently.
Seeing his lame stand over the matter, I was inspired to give a sharper edge of harshness to my words.
“It’s all in your mind…deal with this self pitied guilty complex of yours first…you fucker…And then come to me… So long as you don’t stop this bullshit of yours…I am not helping you….”
“And you shouldn’t….nobody should help a cheater…” He said in a same pitiful tone as before.
It was irritating me now. I could have pissed on his face and left the terrace. But I had a reason to stay.
“Finally….last time….I am not going to repeat it….three things…firstly…stop being a sissy….go jerk off in the loo and remind yourself that you are a man….and secondly….you don’t kill….when you kill a killer….and the third and the most important thing…If you really love someone….stand by your love and not the world…now sit here…think what you want….and then come down and stand outside the loo…coz’ I am going to shit now!…” I finished my sentence on the rudest note to create an impact and left.
I sat on the ceramic throne relaxed myself on the septic tank. I was feeling a fountain of excitement within me. The anticipation of his reaction towards my ultimatum was tickling my guts. I was feeling a gush of laughter bubbling inside me, eager to burst out. I covered my mouth with my palm and began laughing sliently.
With a smile on my face, I emptied my bowels and concluded the aligned tasks. After a gaining a complete control over my laughter muscles, I got up from the throne and I wore back my shorts. I unlatch the door to rush for a handwash. I hate not having a basin in the loo itself. Its ugly to wave your hands all the way to the wash basin to clean them. Usually after a session in the loo, I am in extreme hurry to wash my hands off.
I open the door and move a step back in a shock. Piyush stands at the door like a zombie. Only thing that differentiates him is the determination on his face.
“What?!” I ask in the state of shock, preventing myself from falling back by hoding the door handle.
“I will stand up for my love!” He says with the ferocity of a resolute warrior. “I thought over it…I want Shmita…” he continued with a stream of love flowing out of the solid black rock of staunchness. And finally he gathered tears in his eyes. In a choked voice he said,
“I need her!” The world stood still for those moments of revelation.
“I need to wash my hands….” I said with my determination.
(Contd.)
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
6. b
“Just like that?” asked the old blind king.
“Yeah!” replied the televisor.
“What….the…FUCK!….”
“Language Sir!” tapped the televisor on the king’s knee.
“I am the boss here!” said the old blind king sordidly.
Televisor took to silence.
“Shit….I can’t believe it!” The old blind king went verbal again. “What son of a gun is he…What has gone into this boy?....had his father been alive….he would have whacked the shit out of him…. Such a sissy!.....tell me further….I think it is a medium to gain publicity….since this war has highest TRPs….he is trying to encash his personal popularity as an archer with a golden heart…..what do you think?...”
The televisor maintained a rigid silence.
“What do you think?” The king asked again loudly.
The televisor did not break this vow of silence. He kept his mum.
“I know you are here…stop playing these pancy tricks with me” The king warned him again.
There was nothing but silence.
“Alright…” The king said “He’s gone I think….Is anybody there???” he said aloud “Call the Human Resource minister….we need to recruit a new televisor…ask him to pick one up from the many that come out of Televising Institutes these days….anyways this guy was overpaid…”
“I feel the same sir…” said the televisor in a low voice. His tone clarifying that he wasn’t in his complete mind to voice a reply, yet something shameful in him had forced him to do so.
“Good good” The old blind king tossed an almond towards him in appreciation “…now tell me…what’s the current update…?”
Televisor rolled up his eyes and touched his brain with his pupils. He then rolled it back and stared straight into the direction of the battlefield. His ears stiffened like receptors of a radar. And he exclaimed in horror…
“Unbelievable!!”
“What happened.?..” asked the king alarmingly, leaving aside the betelnut and the nut cracker in his hand, staring in the direction of the televisor’s voice.
There was a brief moment of silence and then the televisor spoke out his shocked stream of words.
“He has given up his weapons…”
“What?!” The king was taken aback.
“Yes…the archer prince has fallen into the flutist’s feet…and keeping his bow and the quiver on flutist’s feet…he said…
I don’t want to fight!”
The old blind king was frozen with the shock. In that stae he muttered…
“Son of a Bitch!!”
And suddenly the king was filled with all the action. He began walking restlessly around the room. He washed his face below the cow-faced tap. He returned to his seat all in a mess. He called out for the finance minister.
The finance minister came rushing in.
“What happened?…” he asked worriedly.
“Withdraw all the bets on that archer prince….he is going to drown me….” The king replied regretfully.
“And what shall we do of it Sir??” asked the finance minister.
“Place the bets on that son of charioteer...I have a war betting model and it states that he is the second best warrior to bet on…after Arjuna falls so…”
The televisor detached from their conversation was blankly staring at the archer prince’s surrender, in a state of shock and magnanimous disappointment. He yearned to know why the archer prince did so. But he knew that his televisibility could see only see the incidents.
Not into the feelings that soak them.
(Contd.)
“Yeah!” replied the televisor.
“What….the…FUCK!….”
“Language Sir!” tapped the televisor on the king’s knee.
“I am the boss here!” said the old blind king sordidly.
Televisor took to silence.
“Shit….I can’t believe it!” The old blind king went verbal again. “What son of a gun is he…What has gone into this boy?....had his father been alive….he would have whacked the shit out of him…. Such a sissy!.....tell me further….I think it is a medium to gain publicity….since this war has highest TRPs….he is trying to encash his personal popularity as an archer with a golden heart…..what do you think?...”
The televisor maintained a rigid silence.
“What do you think?” The king asked again loudly.
The televisor did not break this vow of silence. He kept his mum.
“I know you are here…stop playing these pancy tricks with me” The king warned him again.
There was nothing but silence.
“Alright…” The king said “He’s gone I think….Is anybody there???” he said aloud “Call the Human Resource minister….we need to recruit a new televisor…ask him to pick one up from the many that come out of Televising Institutes these days….anyways this guy was overpaid…”
“I feel the same sir…” said the televisor in a low voice. His tone clarifying that he wasn’t in his complete mind to voice a reply, yet something shameful in him had forced him to do so.
“Good good” The old blind king tossed an almond towards him in appreciation “…now tell me…what’s the current update…?”
Televisor rolled up his eyes and touched his brain with his pupils. He then rolled it back and stared straight into the direction of the battlefield. His ears stiffened like receptors of a radar. And he exclaimed in horror…
“Unbelievable!!”
“What happened.?..” asked the king alarmingly, leaving aside the betelnut and the nut cracker in his hand, staring in the direction of the televisor’s voice.
There was a brief moment of silence and then the televisor spoke out his shocked stream of words.
“He has given up his weapons…”
“What?!” The king was taken aback.
“Yes…the archer prince has fallen into the flutist’s feet…and keeping his bow and the quiver on flutist’s feet…he said…
I don’t want to fight!”
The old blind king was frozen with the shock. In that stae he muttered…
“Son of a Bitch!!”
And suddenly the king was filled with all the action. He began walking restlessly around the room. He washed his face below the cow-faced tap. He returned to his seat all in a mess. He called out for the finance minister.
The finance minister came rushing in.
“What happened?…” he asked worriedly.
“Withdraw all the bets on that archer prince….he is going to drown me….” The king replied regretfully.
“And what shall we do of it Sir??” asked the finance minister.
“Place the bets on that son of charioteer...I have a war betting model and it states that he is the second best warrior to bet on…after Arjuna falls so…”
The televisor detached from their conversation was blankly staring at the archer prince’s surrender, in a state of shock and magnanimous disappointment. He yearned to know why the archer prince did so. But he knew that his televisibility could see only see the incidents.
Not into the feelings that soak them.
(Contd.)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Chapter ^
6. a
I woke up early in the morning. I like waking up early after a drunk night. It’s a different freshness. A revelatory sort of freshness. Like you are seeing the life in a new light. But if we wake up early once in a blue moon, the light does anyways seem like a new light because we are not used to seeing the early morning light.
Alcohol had relaxed me enough already. So I didn’t feel like lying in the bed. I stood up and went to the basin. Our other drink mates were still lying around drunk. I felt like walking through an ambushed battalion, with my dead soldier friend all around me. Viet war movies filled in the head. I miss a gun in my hand and a helmet. I put an empty bowl on my head and pick up a toothbrush. I shoot Viet guerrillas with it and then put a paste on it, thrusting it in my mouth.
I have an urge to go to the terrace and brush my teeth. Its fun to spit on the road next to the house. Then through the day, the stains remain there. And you can remember your act of valour throughout the day, whenever you pass by the gate.
I walk up the stairs and the series of incidences from last night flicker before me. It’s just been one night, but it seems like days passed by. I entered the terrace door, in a lot relaxed manner than I did last night. I won’t find a clash here today. It wouldn’t belong to two frustrated lovers fighting over a girl. It will all be mine. I will bask in the haze of the morning sun. Listen to the chirping of early riser birds. I will brush my teeth in their rhythm.
I walk across the wall which separates the door from the terrace area. Something catches my eye. I turn around to see what it is. I move back in a mild shock. Piyush lies there with a bottle of Old Monk in his hands. Drunkards crash position. Which clearly means he has been sitting here and drinking all night long.
“Maa chudi!!!” I exclaim and walk to him.
“Piyush….gaandu…uth…wake up…go and sleep on the bed…..chal…” I wake him up.
He mumbles something and turns to his other side.
“Abey gaandu uth….come on….dont sleep here….chal…my bed is empty….chal…” I try again.
“Let me die here….I am a traitor!!” He says clear enough to understand and passes out again.
“Give me this shit later…..stand up first…” I say trying to pick him up.
“Noooo…I want to die here…” He said shaking my hand off and slipping down on the floor.
I was fed up by his senseless attempts to stay smashed. I had to take strong measures to bring him back to his senses. I looked around for options. I saw the Sintex water tank.
I picked him up by his arms and pulled him to the tank. He was out of his senses again by now. I rested him on the edge of the tank. It was almost like puling the carcass of a dead animal.
I pushed him a bit further and brought his face to the mouth of the tank. I opened the lid and assured that there was enough water in it. The assurance inspired me and I dipped his head in the cold water and held it there for a few seconds, till he struggled and withdrew himself from the water and my grip. He fell back pushing me away and lied down coughing. He sat up and rinsed his nose lazily. I went to pick him up again. He pushed me aside. I held him tight next time and dragged him to the tank.
He jumped away. We both fell aside.
“Maar daalega kya gaandu?….want to kill me?” He said heaving heavily.
“You said you want to die…” I said staring at the sky. It felt good to lie down again.
“Yes….kill me!” He said firmly.
I rolled over and grabbed his throat. He held my hand and pushed me away.
“What happened bugger?....die now na…” I asked laughing aloud.
He didn’t reply.
“Nobody accepts death so easily dude…everybody fights against it….not as an intention…but as an impulse… this impulse is life…the fight to be alive….rest all are just words…bekaar ki bakchodi!” I said looking at him.
“No….I have to die…people like me should…” He replied in a tone of grave self pity.
“What has gone into you fucker?....this sad ass shit??!....”
“I am a traitor….”
“No fucker…You are not!!” I shout on him.
“But…” He is about to present a counter argument.
“But what?” I cut it.
“I am a traitor…I shouldn’t live…”
“Fuck you…..You are wrong…stop thinking this shit!!!....nothing’s gonna move if you think this….Chutiya saala!!...If you keep thinking like this, you will have nothing left in your hands….she will go away with someone else….and you will have nothing with you….except this….this shitty thought!!” Perfect threat, perfect thought.
He didn’t turn.
“I think you are scared…” I played my next card. “Fattu saala!!….Don’t be a coward fucker!!...Fattu mat ban Bhenchod!!”
“Fattu nahi ban raha hoon….arey woh Harshad hai…apna dost….he’s our friend….how can I stand against him at all…It’s better to stay alone than do such a thing man…..This is not about cowardice…this is about the trust he had in me which I broke…” He said pitifully.
“You didn’t break any trust….tell me one thing…..Do you love Shamita?” I asked him the most easiest of question with the most complicated anticipation process.
He stayed silent for some time then answered…
“Yes!”
There he was! I got him in the trap.
“You have all your answers here!” I said in a tone of finality.
“Nope…” He blurted out promptly. “I have all my questions staring here…”
“Then I can’t do anything for you my friend….I am sorry” This was the last weapon I had saved for such times.
Piyush was shaken. He leaned on the though that, whatever be his confusion, I would be there to sort it out. And my backing out from this effort was his sure destruction. All his qualms were based on this faith. And I had shaken it from the base.
“No Anay….please don’t say this…please help me!!....please tell me what to do!!”
I turned and looked at the sky silently and began brushing my teeth. I had to brush them in the rhythm of the chirping sounds of late riser birds.
(Contd.)
I woke up early in the morning. I like waking up early after a drunk night. It’s a different freshness. A revelatory sort of freshness. Like you are seeing the life in a new light. But if we wake up early once in a blue moon, the light does anyways seem like a new light because we are not used to seeing the early morning light.
Alcohol had relaxed me enough already. So I didn’t feel like lying in the bed. I stood up and went to the basin. Our other drink mates were still lying around drunk. I felt like walking through an ambushed battalion, with my dead soldier friend all around me. Viet war movies filled in the head. I miss a gun in my hand and a helmet. I put an empty bowl on my head and pick up a toothbrush. I shoot Viet guerrillas with it and then put a paste on it, thrusting it in my mouth.
I have an urge to go to the terrace and brush my teeth. Its fun to spit on the road next to the house. Then through the day, the stains remain there. And you can remember your act of valour throughout the day, whenever you pass by the gate.
I walk up the stairs and the series of incidences from last night flicker before me. It’s just been one night, but it seems like days passed by. I entered the terrace door, in a lot relaxed manner than I did last night. I won’t find a clash here today. It wouldn’t belong to two frustrated lovers fighting over a girl. It will all be mine. I will bask in the haze of the morning sun. Listen to the chirping of early riser birds. I will brush my teeth in their rhythm.
I walk across the wall which separates the door from the terrace area. Something catches my eye. I turn around to see what it is. I move back in a mild shock. Piyush lies there with a bottle of Old Monk in his hands. Drunkards crash position. Which clearly means he has been sitting here and drinking all night long.
“Maa chudi!!!” I exclaim and walk to him.
“Piyush….gaandu…uth…wake up…go and sleep on the bed…..chal…” I wake him up.
He mumbles something and turns to his other side.
“Abey gaandu uth….come on….dont sleep here….chal…my bed is empty….chal…” I try again.
“Let me die here….I am a traitor!!” He says clear enough to understand and passes out again.
“Give me this shit later…..stand up first…” I say trying to pick him up.
“Noooo…I want to die here…” He said shaking my hand off and slipping down on the floor.
I was fed up by his senseless attempts to stay smashed. I had to take strong measures to bring him back to his senses. I looked around for options. I saw the Sintex water tank.
I picked him up by his arms and pulled him to the tank. He was out of his senses again by now. I rested him on the edge of the tank. It was almost like puling the carcass of a dead animal.
I pushed him a bit further and brought his face to the mouth of the tank. I opened the lid and assured that there was enough water in it. The assurance inspired me and I dipped his head in the cold water and held it there for a few seconds, till he struggled and withdrew himself from the water and my grip. He fell back pushing me away and lied down coughing. He sat up and rinsed his nose lazily. I went to pick him up again. He pushed me aside. I held him tight next time and dragged him to the tank.
He jumped away. We both fell aside.
“Maar daalega kya gaandu?….want to kill me?” He said heaving heavily.
“You said you want to die…” I said staring at the sky. It felt good to lie down again.
“Yes….kill me!” He said firmly.
I rolled over and grabbed his throat. He held my hand and pushed me away.
“What happened bugger?....die now na…” I asked laughing aloud.
He didn’t reply.
“Nobody accepts death so easily dude…everybody fights against it….not as an intention…but as an impulse… this impulse is life…the fight to be alive….rest all are just words…bekaar ki bakchodi!” I said looking at him.
“No….I have to die…people like me should…” He replied in a tone of grave self pity.
“What has gone into you fucker?....this sad ass shit??!....”
“I am a traitor….”
“No fucker…You are not!!” I shout on him.
“But…” He is about to present a counter argument.
“But what?” I cut it.
“I am a traitor…I shouldn’t live…”
“Fuck you…..You are wrong…stop thinking this shit!!!....nothing’s gonna move if you think this….Chutiya saala!!...If you keep thinking like this, you will have nothing left in your hands….she will go away with someone else….and you will have nothing with you….except this….this shitty thought!!” Perfect threat, perfect thought.
He didn’t turn.
“I think you are scared…” I played my next card. “Fattu saala!!….Don’t be a coward fucker!!...Fattu mat ban Bhenchod!!”
“Fattu nahi ban raha hoon….arey woh Harshad hai…apna dost….he’s our friend….how can I stand against him at all…It’s better to stay alone than do such a thing man…..This is not about cowardice…this is about the trust he had in me which I broke…” He said pitifully.
“You didn’t break any trust….tell me one thing…..Do you love Shamita?” I asked him the most easiest of question with the most complicated anticipation process.
He stayed silent for some time then answered…
“Yes!”
There he was! I got him in the trap.
“You have all your answers here!” I said in a tone of finality.
“Nope…” He blurted out promptly. “I have all my questions staring here…”
“Then I can’t do anything for you my friend….I am sorry” This was the last weapon I had saved for such times.
Piyush was shaken. He leaned on the though that, whatever be his confusion, I would be there to sort it out. And my backing out from this effort was his sure destruction. All his qualms were based on this faith. And I had shaken it from the base.
“No Anay….please don’t say this…please help me!!....please tell me what to do!!”
I turned and looked at the sky silently and began brushing my teeth. I had to brush them in the rhythm of the chirping sounds of late riser birds.
(Contd.)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
5. j
“Yes…” I said firmly.
“No man…..I don’t think he would do something like that….” he said naively.
“My part was to warn you…rest is what you want to do” I was a bit harsh. But I felt it was necessary at the moment. In order to convince him that he was living in threat. Which he also was somehow.
But I had faked this tone of detachment while speaking to him. As detached I seemed from my words, the more involved I was in this tiff. I felt I was at the centre of it, and like a lever, I was making it work. I was the peg on which the future of this conflict rested. I was the pivot which turned it the way it should go. And I had started feeling conceited about it.
“Do you have a cigarette?” Piyush asked me. An unexpressed concern flashed on his face.
I checked the pockets of my jacket. I found the packet I had bought for the party. I entrusted the half filled packet to him. He took out a cigarette and lit it with his rusted lighter.
He took a long drag and turned to look at the road.
“What happened re Piyush?” I asked him casually.
“Nothing” He tried hard to dismiss my question. Yet it kept lingering around him with the streaks of smoke from his cigarette.
“You sure ??” I pushed it further.
He didn’t reply. Neither did he turn back. He kept smoking silently with his back at me.
I got off the motorbike and went and stood behind him. He didn’t seem to notice my presence. I placed my hand on his shoulder and called out his name. He shrank and turned back to me. His eyes were moist. A stray thought of street lights glistening in them teased me for a second. I pushed it aside and asked him in a softer tone.
“What happened??”
He broke down all of a sudden sitting on his haunches.
“What happened Piyush?” I asked holding him by his shoulders.
“Bhenchod!!!…..that bastard is my friend!!!”
***
“And then….?” Asked the old blind king curiously.
“And then the archer prince took a closer look at his enemies….” The televisor said all charged up. He had by now realised where was sitting. And what was occurring was so inspiring for him to tell his master, that his master would stand up and start jumping with happiness, not caring about his inactive eyes and where he was going to land next in their absence.
“And then….?” The old blind king’s eagerness spilled out of his weary wrinkled face.
“And then he said….” The televisor began.
The Archer Prince’ Despodency:
“Damn it brother!…..It’s not working out!....” The Archer prince said.
The flutist turned back to him in surprise. But the archer prince didn’t realise it. He was lost in his own grief. The guilt of betrayal began clouting around him. And he kept on speaking in it’s trance.
“I am nervous…..I am shivering….I can’t even hold the bow and arrow…. Look at them man!....all my people….cousins, uncles, teachers….all those who meet me at family get-togethers….What’s the point in killing them?....I even doubt the fact that they are our enemies…..If I kill them all….what will be of our family get-togethers?.....and what is all the wealth of use if they aren’t gonna be around….who will our wives show off their sarees to?”
Flutist who was acting as a charioteer for the war, turned to look at his face. He had held it high as he stared at the enemy camp. Lost in his own words.
“These are my people dude!” The archer prince continued speaking “My kin….I see no point at all in killing them…these are my brothers….I have played with them as a kid….and I face them like enemies today….balls man!....what so ever is happening!....I would be happier if they come together and kill me…..damn yaar….I give up”
Back to Televisor:
“Saying this he put down his weapons before the flutist…” There was a tone of glee in televisor’s voice. The good news was here. And how could it not please his master. He awaited a smile to form on his master’s face.
“What the F***!!!” The old blind king shouted aloud!.
The televisor was shaken. He quickly moved close to him to avoid any damage to the old man.
“What happened Sir?” He asked filled with concern and surprise.
“He is supposed to fight…even if his enemies are my sons….he should fight and he should win….And look what the idiot is doing…..bloody spineless!!” The old blind king vent out his frustration.
“I don’t think so Sir…” interrupted the televisor.
“Then what do you think?” barked the old blind king on him.
“He just loves them all too much!” The televisor said.
***
(Contd.)
“No man…..I don’t think he would do something like that….” he said naively.
“My part was to warn you…rest is what you want to do” I was a bit harsh. But I felt it was necessary at the moment. In order to convince him that he was living in threat. Which he also was somehow.
But I had faked this tone of detachment while speaking to him. As detached I seemed from my words, the more involved I was in this tiff. I felt I was at the centre of it, and like a lever, I was making it work. I was the peg on which the future of this conflict rested. I was the pivot which turned it the way it should go. And I had started feeling conceited about it.
“Do you have a cigarette?” Piyush asked me. An unexpressed concern flashed on his face.
I checked the pockets of my jacket. I found the packet I had bought for the party. I entrusted the half filled packet to him. He took out a cigarette and lit it with his rusted lighter.
He took a long drag and turned to look at the road.
“What happened re Piyush?” I asked him casually.
“Nothing” He tried hard to dismiss my question. Yet it kept lingering around him with the streaks of smoke from his cigarette.
“You sure ??” I pushed it further.
He didn’t reply. Neither did he turn back. He kept smoking silently with his back at me.
I got off the motorbike and went and stood behind him. He didn’t seem to notice my presence. I placed my hand on his shoulder and called out his name. He shrank and turned back to me. His eyes were moist. A stray thought of street lights glistening in them teased me for a second. I pushed it aside and asked him in a softer tone.
“What happened??”
He broke down all of a sudden sitting on his haunches.
“What happened Piyush?” I asked holding him by his shoulders.
“Bhenchod!!!…..that bastard is my friend!!!”
***
“And then….?” Asked the old blind king curiously.
“And then the archer prince took a closer look at his enemies….” The televisor said all charged up. He had by now realised where was sitting. And what was occurring was so inspiring for him to tell his master, that his master would stand up and start jumping with happiness, not caring about his inactive eyes and where he was going to land next in their absence.
“And then….?” The old blind king’s eagerness spilled out of his weary wrinkled face.
“And then he said….” The televisor began.
The Archer Prince’ Despodency:
“Damn it brother!…..It’s not working out!....” The Archer prince said.
The flutist turned back to him in surprise. But the archer prince didn’t realise it. He was lost in his own grief. The guilt of betrayal began clouting around him. And he kept on speaking in it’s trance.
“I am nervous…..I am shivering….I can’t even hold the bow and arrow…. Look at them man!....all my people….cousins, uncles, teachers….all those who meet me at family get-togethers….What’s the point in killing them?....I even doubt the fact that they are our enemies…..If I kill them all….what will be of our family get-togethers?.....and what is all the wealth of use if they aren’t gonna be around….who will our wives show off their sarees to?”
Flutist who was acting as a charioteer for the war, turned to look at his face. He had held it high as he stared at the enemy camp. Lost in his own words.
“These are my people dude!” The archer prince continued speaking “My kin….I see no point at all in killing them…these are my brothers….I have played with them as a kid….and I face them like enemies today….balls man!....what so ever is happening!....I would be happier if they come together and kill me…..damn yaar….I give up”
Back to Televisor:
“Saying this he put down his weapons before the flutist…” There was a tone of glee in televisor’s voice. The good news was here. And how could it not please his master. He awaited a smile to form on his master’s face.
“What the F***!!!” The old blind king shouted aloud!.
The televisor was shaken. He quickly moved close to him to avoid any damage to the old man.
“What happened Sir?” He asked filled with concern and surprise.
“He is supposed to fight…even if his enemies are my sons….he should fight and he should win….And look what the idiot is doing…..bloody spineless!!” The old blind king vent out his frustration.
“I don’t think so Sir…” interrupted the televisor.
“Then what do you think?” barked the old blind king on him.
“He just loves them all too much!” The televisor said.
***
(Contd.)
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
5. i
I was riding the motorbike him back. Piyush sat on the pillion musing about the rapid changes in his life. It was too much to handle for a small town boy like him.
He had lived in a world where each one knew each other. A world which was built on trust and friendship. A world in which others meant a lot more than the self.
The sudden strike from Harshad had devastated him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had tiffs in his town. But there, the enemies were clearly marked out. And those rules were not applied in these domains. Here, anybody could turn against you. And that too, anytime! This was a fact which Piyush was finding hard to digest. And so would Dilip and Anshul, when he would tell them.
I rode steadily. Allowing Piyush to ride after he is drunk is like riding your death with the reaper holding the accelerator.
I have survived his drunk riding twice. But that did not mean I would the third time.
We came to the open road that joined the two parts of the place. I was about to ride across the grassland into the other part when Piyush suddenly yelped into my ear.
“Can you stop the bike?!”
His pitch indicated an emergency. I guessed that he wanted to puke. That’s a ritual after overdrinking. A grand puking ceremony. When every member pukes one after the another taking inspiration from the earlier. And then they pass out. Some even wake up from sleep and puke to maintain the dignity of the drink.
I stopped the bike. He got down.
“What happened?” I asked him
“Was it true?” he asked gravely. I saw a tint of innocence on his otherwise irritating face.
“What?” I asked unable to derive a reference.
“What you said about Harshad….” He lost the gravity in his voice.
What I said about Harshad:
“Strike back…?” Piyush asked me with a perplexity in his voice.
“Yes….what do you think?....will he sit quiet now??” I said with a tone of assuring obviousness.
“Then??” I could see fret gathering in his voice.
“He will hit back….and he will hit back hard” I said in a serious tone.
“Come on Anay….its Harshad.” He tried to dissuade my thought.
“Yeah…its Harshad….who sends Rahul to follow me….then assaults me at Aunty’s…and then starts a fight with you on a girl… ” I couldn’t let him forgive Harshad. That would mean loss of force for me. But it was somehow a baseless fear. Because, even if he did forgive Harshad, Harshad wouldn’t forgive him.
“But that…”Piyush struggled to deliver a counter logic.
“Give that justification to yourself!!....” I cut his sentence curtly.
There passed a long silent pause between us.
Piyush slowly turned towards me and said, “What do we do now?”
“Defend…..and hit back harder…” I sipped my drink.
“How do we do that?” He asked curiously.
“Let him try first….” I said coldly.
“Why?” He jumped in horror.
“Because we have to know his weapon!” I said staring at the Expressway, taking another sip from the glass.
(Contd.)
He had lived in a world where each one knew each other. A world which was built on trust and friendship. A world in which others meant a lot more than the self.
The sudden strike from Harshad had devastated him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had tiffs in his town. But there, the enemies were clearly marked out. And those rules were not applied in these domains. Here, anybody could turn against you. And that too, anytime! This was a fact which Piyush was finding hard to digest. And so would Dilip and Anshul, when he would tell them.
I rode steadily. Allowing Piyush to ride after he is drunk is like riding your death with the reaper holding the accelerator.
I have survived his drunk riding twice. But that did not mean I would the third time.
We came to the open road that joined the two parts of the place. I was about to ride across the grassland into the other part when Piyush suddenly yelped into my ear.
“Can you stop the bike?!”
His pitch indicated an emergency. I guessed that he wanted to puke. That’s a ritual after overdrinking. A grand puking ceremony. When every member pukes one after the another taking inspiration from the earlier. And then they pass out. Some even wake up from sleep and puke to maintain the dignity of the drink.
I stopped the bike. He got down.
“What happened?” I asked him
“Was it true?” he asked gravely. I saw a tint of innocence on his otherwise irritating face.
“What?” I asked unable to derive a reference.
“What you said about Harshad….” He lost the gravity in his voice.
What I said about Harshad:
“Strike back…?” Piyush asked me with a perplexity in his voice.
“Yes….what do you think?....will he sit quiet now??” I said with a tone of assuring obviousness.
“Then??” I could see fret gathering in his voice.
“He will hit back….and he will hit back hard” I said in a serious tone.
“Come on Anay….its Harshad.” He tried to dissuade my thought.
“Yeah…its Harshad….who sends Rahul to follow me….then assaults me at Aunty’s…and then starts a fight with you on a girl… ” I couldn’t let him forgive Harshad. That would mean loss of force for me. But it was somehow a baseless fear. Because, even if he did forgive Harshad, Harshad wouldn’t forgive him.
“But that…”Piyush struggled to deliver a counter logic.
“Give that justification to yourself!!....” I cut his sentence curtly.
There passed a long silent pause between us.
Piyush slowly turned towards me and said, “What do we do now?”
“Defend…..and hit back harder…” I sipped my drink.
“How do we do that?” He asked curiously.
“Let him try first….” I said coldly.
“Why?” He jumped in horror.
“Because we have to know his weapon!” I said staring at the Expressway, taking another sip from the glass.
(Contd.)
Sunday, August 9, 2009
5. h (Extension)
“How…?” I asked”
“In a damn bad way…” his voice suddenly opened up. I couldn’t make out whether it was rum or it was outburst. But it had broken the shackles of the baritone.
“What happened up there??” curiosity was raging within me.
I focus on Piyush’s eyes. He looses himself in thought.
Flashback begins : Piyush’s Point of View
When I returned to the terrace, Harshad was lost in a reverie.
“Harshad…” I said going near him. My words shook him out of it.
“Do you believe him?” He asked me.
“Yes” I replied. I had a reason to.
“Maybe he must’ve….you know…spend some time with her there and on moving out…he must’ve seen Rahul and Gaurav…or may be he saw them from the window of the….hotel room…or maybe…”
“So Rahul and Gaurav were there…”
“Yeah…I mean…they happened to run into them…you know…” He was stumbling with his words.
“Did you send them?” I asked him into his face.
“No…they…they…happened to be there… co-incidentally” He answered again with the same stammer.
“Very rare co-incidence” I taunted.
“Why do you trust him so much?” Harshad snapped at me.
“Because he cares…” I replied.
“Cares my arse….he just wants to fuck Shamita…or maybe…”
“Okay stop…” I said cutting his sentence.
“Why stop?…”
“Don’t say anything about Shamita…she is not that kind of girl…” I said politely.
“Excuse me…why are you being so touchy about her?” He asked me angrily. As if he owned her.
“Why not…she is a good girl…”
“One sec…..stay away from her okay…I’ve already told you….I saw you staring at her that day….keep your mind clear…” He warned me.
“Actually Harshad….” His warning has provoked me more, “….I wanted to talk to you about her…”
“About her??...what about her?” He asked me irritated.
“It is that….”
“What?” Wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
“It is that I have a liking for her…” I said in a low voice.
“Come again…” He said in way that irritated me.
“I have a liking for Shamita…” I said again, louder this time.
He looked at me angrily. I looked at him straight into his eye.
“Its better if you keep it just a liking…” he warned me.
“I am sorry” I said.
“What?” He asked me in a threatening tone.
“I am sorry” I said firmly.
“Madarchod!!!…”He emitted a strong tremor. And before I could know, I felt his palm crashing on my skull. It shook me hard, breaking me away from the world around me for a moment. He held me by my collar and pulling me close to him.
“You bastards…son of bitches….Bhenchod…you call me here for a party….and then throw this shit at me…First is that motherfucker….and next are you…you bastards are bent on screwing up my life…bloody Bhadvas…” he went on uttering such shit.
Finally, I couldn’t take it at all. I pushed him away and threw a punch at his face out of impulse. He fell back. Before he could get up, I placed a kick in his belly. He got up and pounced on me.
“Bhenchod….you outsider….you come to our city….take away our admissions…our jobs…and now you are taking away our girls…Bhosdika…go back to where you come from…Madarchod…go back to your state…study there…why do you have to come here to snatch away our happiness…go bhenchod…go back… ” He was in a weird state of fury.
I pushed him away and slapped him hard on his face. He still kept on blabbering.
Finnally I threw him on the ground and shouted “Shut Up!” loudly on his face.
I haunched besides him holding his collar and said “One more word….just one more word from you…and I will throw you down from here…”.
He pushed me away and walked down hurriedly.
Flashback ends. (So does Piyush’s Point of View)
“What the fuck?!” I mumbled my exclamation.
“Yes…” Piyush replied grievously.
“Shit!” I sipped the rum from my glass.
With a shadow of gloom, Piyush turned to me.
“He will strike back” I said staring at the Expressway.
Piyush looked at me befuddled.
“He will strike back…be prepared…” I said without turning towards him.
(Contd.)
“In a damn bad way…” his voice suddenly opened up. I couldn’t make out whether it was rum or it was outburst. But it had broken the shackles of the baritone.
“What happened up there??” curiosity was raging within me.
I focus on Piyush’s eyes. He looses himself in thought.
Flashback begins : Piyush’s Point of View
When I returned to the terrace, Harshad was lost in a reverie.
“Harshad…” I said going near him. My words shook him out of it.
“Do you believe him?” He asked me.
“Yes” I replied. I had a reason to.
“Maybe he must’ve….you know…spend some time with her there and on moving out…he must’ve seen Rahul and Gaurav…or may be he saw them from the window of the….hotel room…or maybe…”
“So Rahul and Gaurav were there…”
“Yeah…I mean…they happened to run into them…you know…” He was stumbling with his words.
“Did you send them?” I asked him into his face.
“No…they…they…happened to be there… co-incidentally” He answered again with the same stammer.
“Very rare co-incidence” I taunted.
“Why do you trust him so much?” Harshad snapped at me.
“Because he cares…” I replied.
“Cares my arse….he just wants to fuck Shamita…or maybe…”
“Okay stop…” I said cutting his sentence.
“Why stop?…”
“Don’t say anything about Shamita…she is not that kind of girl…” I said politely.
“Excuse me…why are you being so touchy about her?” He asked me angrily. As if he owned her.
“Why not…she is a good girl…”
“One sec…..stay away from her okay…I’ve already told you….I saw you staring at her that day….keep your mind clear…” He warned me.
“Actually Harshad….” His warning has provoked me more, “….I wanted to talk to you about her…”
“About her??...what about her?” He asked me irritated.
“It is that….”
“What?” Wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
“It is that I have a liking for her…” I said in a low voice.
“Come again…” He said in way that irritated me.
“I have a liking for Shamita…” I said again, louder this time.
He looked at me angrily. I looked at him straight into his eye.
“Its better if you keep it just a liking…” he warned me.
“I am sorry” I said.
“What?” He asked me in a threatening tone.
“I am sorry” I said firmly.
“Madarchod!!!…”He emitted a strong tremor. And before I could know, I felt his palm crashing on my skull. It shook me hard, breaking me away from the world around me for a moment. He held me by my collar and pulling me close to him.
“You bastards…son of bitches….Bhenchod…you call me here for a party….and then throw this shit at me…First is that motherfucker….and next are you…you bastards are bent on screwing up my life…bloody Bhadvas…” he went on uttering such shit.
Finally, I couldn’t take it at all. I pushed him away and threw a punch at his face out of impulse. He fell back. Before he could get up, I placed a kick in his belly. He got up and pounced on me.
“Bhenchod….you outsider….you come to our city….take away our admissions…our jobs…and now you are taking away our girls…Bhosdika…go back to where you come from…Madarchod…go back to your state…study there…why do you have to come here to snatch away our happiness…go bhenchod…go back… ” He was in a weird state of fury.
I pushed him away and slapped him hard on his face. He still kept on blabbering.
Finnally I threw him on the ground and shouted “Shut Up!” loudly on his face.
I haunched besides him holding his collar and said “One more word….just one more word from you…and I will throw you down from here…”.
He pushed me away and walked down hurriedly.
Flashback ends. (So does Piyush’s Point of View)
“What the fuck?!” I mumbled my exclamation.
“Yes…” Piyush replied grievously.
“Shit!” I sipped the rum from my glass.
With a shadow of gloom, Piyush turned to me.
“He will strike back” I said staring at the Expressway.
Piyush looked at me befuddled.
“He will strike back…be prepared…” I said without turning towards him.
(Contd.)
Thursday, August 6, 2009
5. h
From the place where I sat sipping my Rum in cola, I could see the passage that went up to the stairs that connected the individuality of each floor. I had just filled up my glass. I was about to take a sip and I saw Harshad rushing down furiously. Before I could get up from my place and stop him, he was gone.
I stood up and rushed towards the passage with the glass still in my hands. I saw Piyush alighting the stairs walking heftily.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Let’ go to the tower…” He said in a baritone of a murderer.
“Now?...What happened?...Are you okay?” I was zapped by the sudden change in him.
“Yeah I am okay…get a bottle and two glasses…let’s drink there” He continued in the same baritone.
I slyly entered the drunk zone, grabbed a bottle of rum and a Thums up, picked up two plastic glasses and smoothly escaped from the drunk hounds.
Piyush had started his motorbike by then. I sat carefully balancing all the goods in my hand and we were off.
Tower was a dilapidated factory near the expressway. Someone had a vivid plan of building it near the expressway. But luck didn’t favour him. And neither did the government. So the half complete structure stood there for long years. And then, one fine day, it began dilapidating. After a long wait, it gave away its being to fate.
And its rapidly degenerating form became a hide out for many. Including us. It was one of the places where you had a loft all to yourself, wherein you could sit and enjoy your drink looking at the cars passing by. The place was also used by bongers and bangers. But each one had a solitude in their space. And it rarely happened that two beneficiaries landed up at the place at the same time.
When we reached the tower, it was supposedly empty. We went to the topmost loft and set up our session there. I made a drink for Piyush first and then poured one for myself. We settled down with our glasses on the cement sacks, which had by now hardened into stone and served purely as seats. Some artist had also arranged it to seem like a sofa and had a pile of similar sacks before it which served like a table.
We sipped the beverages from our glasses and lit our cigarettes. I reclined on the hard back rest like elevation near my back.
“Tell me now…what happened…” I asked taking a sip from my glass.
“He failed….” Piyush said gravely. “…badly!” He added.
(Contd.)
I stood up and rushed towards the passage with the glass still in my hands. I saw Piyush alighting the stairs walking heftily.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Let’ go to the tower…” He said in a baritone of a murderer.
“Now?...What happened?...Are you okay?” I was zapped by the sudden change in him.
“Yeah I am okay…get a bottle and two glasses…let’s drink there” He continued in the same baritone.
I slyly entered the drunk zone, grabbed a bottle of rum and a Thums up, picked up two plastic glasses and smoothly escaped from the drunk hounds.
Piyush had started his motorbike by then. I sat carefully balancing all the goods in my hand and we were off.
Tower was a dilapidated factory near the expressway. Someone had a vivid plan of building it near the expressway. But luck didn’t favour him. And neither did the government. So the half complete structure stood there for long years. And then, one fine day, it began dilapidating. After a long wait, it gave away its being to fate.
And its rapidly degenerating form became a hide out for many. Including us. It was one of the places where you had a loft all to yourself, wherein you could sit and enjoy your drink looking at the cars passing by. The place was also used by bongers and bangers. But each one had a solitude in their space. And it rarely happened that two beneficiaries landed up at the place at the same time.
When we reached the tower, it was supposedly empty. We went to the topmost loft and set up our session there. I made a drink for Piyush first and then poured one for myself. We settled down with our glasses on the cement sacks, which had by now hardened into stone and served purely as seats. Some artist had also arranged it to seem like a sofa and had a pile of similar sacks before it which served like a table.
We sipped the beverages from our glasses and lit our cigarettes. I reclined on the hard back rest like elevation near my back.
“Tell me now…what happened…” I asked taking a sip from my glass.
“He failed….” Piyush said gravely. “…badly!” He added.
(Contd.)
Sunday, August 2, 2009
5. g
“Yes…Rahul!” There was a cold edge to my voice. An edge of brutality that goes tearing the soul apart. “Isn’t it Harshad?...Rahul told you na?”
Standing stuck to the wall, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to strike. I wasn’t supposed to enter the ring. I wasn’t supposed to break the chain of words between them. I just had to stand there, for Piyush to know that I was there. But venom. Venom made me break the rules. It was spreading. I had to cut it. If it spread, it wouldn’t just spoil the mechanism of the things going around me. It would destroy the newly developed affiliation between me and Piyush. Even if it was not true. Because every lie holds a possibility of being true. And people believe in this possibility more than they believe in the truth. I had to knock it off before it settled itself in Piyush’s mind. I couldn’t stand there and let him do it. No! I had to stop it. I had to barge in.
Harshad looked at me with a surprise. Piyush had a betrayed look on him. He looked at me as if I had torn his world apart. This was the look I was scared of. And If didn’t wipe it off from his face now, I would have to live with it all my life.
“Why should he tell me?” Harshad’s words stumbled out uncomfortably.
“Because you had sent him to follow me….” I made another assault.
“Me??...No way!...Why would I send them?”
“Then how can you say this??” I nailed it. “Tell me!”
He was speechless. I turned to Piyush.
“He sent Rahul and Gaurav to follow me and Shamita….”I said pointing a finger at Harshad.
Piyush was quizzed. He looked at me and Harshad turn-by-turn. Unable to take a side. Unable to decide.
“….Because he thought….that I was taking Shamita to the hill-station and sleeping with her….rather than taking her to meet her brother….” I continued. “And his spies…they saw your motorbike at the stand and reported that I was banging Shamita in a roadside motel….” I stopped. The idea they had was quite an exciting one. But I would have enjoyed the tag if I had actually utilised the motel in that sense.
I turned to Harshad. I glared into his eyes.
“I saw them Harshad…I saw your spies…unfortunately they left before I finished my Medu Wada….with an assumption!...I am so sorry to disappoint you…you Fucker!!”
“That means you did go to a motel...” Harshad said staring at me. “…what is the guarantee that you only had a Medu Wada!!...”
I could see Piyush falling for his words. His eyes reflected an agreement to every question that Harshad raised. They stared at me intently at Harshad’s every doubt. And I could feel them burning on my face.
“Piyush do you remember the calls I made you from home??....just open the log and show this bastard!!” I commanded Piyush. He quickly began fiddling with his mobile phone. He needed to find an answer for himself. He was struggling to prove me right. Not because he trusted me so much. But because he wanted to check the facts. Proving me right was his only way of ensuring Shamita’s sanctity. And he would give his right arm for it. This was just scrolling through a list with the same hand.
He came to me. He showed me his mobile. Fortunately, the entries existed.
“See this Harshad….every call is from my home….every call in these four days….” I held out the mobile before him. He saw into it and looked at me worriedly.
“What do you say??” I asked him.
He stood still for some time.
“You can also compare the time travelled and the difference between the leaving time and reaching time…” I took it further.
After another brief moment of quietness he said in an almost inaudible decibel, “I am sorry!”
“How could you even think Harshad….?” I said with a pretentious disappointment.
“Come Piyush…let’s go” I said giving the mobile phone back to Piyush. I walked out of the terrace in a fake rage. Piyush followed me. I was happy to have rescued him from Harshad’s venom.
I stopped in my steps. I turned back facing him.
“Why are you following me??” I asked him.
He stands shell shocked.
“Go and tell him you love Shamita…It’s time for the test now!...he failed mine…now it’s your turn.” I tell him patting on his arm.
(Contd.)
Standing stuck to the wall, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to strike. I wasn’t supposed to enter the ring. I wasn’t supposed to break the chain of words between them. I just had to stand there, for Piyush to know that I was there. But venom. Venom made me break the rules. It was spreading. I had to cut it. If it spread, it wouldn’t just spoil the mechanism of the things going around me. It would destroy the newly developed affiliation between me and Piyush. Even if it was not true. Because every lie holds a possibility of being true. And people believe in this possibility more than they believe in the truth. I had to knock it off before it settled itself in Piyush’s mind. I couldn’t stand there and let him do it. No! I had to stop it. I had to barge in.
Harshad looked at me with a surprise. Piyush had a betrayed look on him. He looked at me as if I had torn his world apart. This was the look I was scared of. And If didn’t wipe it off from his face now, I would have to live with it all my life.
“Why should he tell me?” Harshad’s words stumbled out uncomfortably.
“Because you had sent him to follow me….” I made another assault.
“Me??...No way!...Why would I send them?”
“Then how can you say this??” I nailed it. “Tell me!”
He was speechless. I turned to Piyush.
“He sent Rahul and Gaurav to follow me and Shamita….”I said pointing a finger at Harshad.
Piyush was quizzed. He looked at me and Harshad turn-by-turn. Unable to take a side. Unable to decide.
“….Because he thought….that I was taking Shamita to the hill-station and sleeping with her….rather than taking her to meet her brother….” I continued. “And his spies…they saw your motorbike at the stand and reported that I was banging Shamita in a roadside motel….” I stopped. The idea they had was quite an exciting one. But I would have enjoyed the tag if I had actually utilised the motel in that sense.
I turned to Harshad. I glared into his eyes.
“I saw them Harshad…I saw your spies…unfortunately they left before I finished my Medu Wada….with an assumption!...I am so sorry to disappoint you…you Fucker!!”
“That means you did go to a motel...” Harshad said staring at me. “…what is the guarantee that you only had a Medu Wada!!...”
I could see Piyush falling for his words. His eyes reflected an agreement to every question that Harshad raised. They stared at me intently at Harshad’s every doubt. And I could feel them burning on my face.
“Piyush do you remember the calls I made you from home??....just open the log and show this bastard!!” I commanded Piyush. He quickly began fiddling with his mobile phone. He needed to find an answer for himself. He was struggling to prove me right. Not because he trusted me so much. But because he wanted to check the facts. Proving me right was his only way of ensuring Shamita’s sanctity. And he would give his right arm for it. This was just scrolling through a list with the same hand.
He came to me. He showed me his mobile. Fortunately, the entries existed.
“See this Harshad….every call is from my home….every call in these four days….” I held out the mobile before him. He saw into it and looked at me worriedly.
“What do you say??” I asked him.
He stood still for some time.
“You can also compare the time travelled and the difference between the leaving time and reaching time…” I took it further.
After another brief moment of quietness he said in an almost inaudible decibel, “I am sorry!”
“How could you even think Harshad….?” I said with a pretentious disappointment.
“Come Piyush…let’s go” I said giving the mobile phone back to Piyush. I walked out of the terrace in a fake rage. Piyush followed me. I was happy to have rescued him from Harshad’s venom.
I stopped in my steps. I turned back facing him.
“Why are you following me??” I asked him.
He stands shell shocked.
“Go and tell him you love Shamita…It’s time for the test now!...he failed mine…now it’s your turn.” I tell him patting on his arm.
(Contd.)
Thursday, July 30, 2009
5.f
As the alcohol seeps into the blood, the circle begins to disintegrate. People fall apart. In sets of twos and threes. They get involved in their own parallel universes. Some talk. Some fight. Some argue. Some agree. Some click in a completely new way. The place becomes a circus and the voices rise and fall to rattle the windows of the gods fearing citizens who are asleep in their houses.
Piyush asks Harshal for a smoke on the terrace. Piyush looks at me from the corner of his eye. I notice his glance and nod casually in return. Without looking at him. Pretending to light my cigarette. Harshad turned back quickly to look at me. My desperate attempts to light up my cigarettes assured him of my drunken disorientation.
“Chal” Piyush said and they both left for d terrace.
I finally lit my cigarette. I stood up and began following them unnoticeably. They disappeared in the darkness of the passage that led to the terrace. I could hear their voices. They faded in the darkness. I followed their steps into the darkness.
The glow from my cigarette guided me up the stairs. I kept climbing them till I reached the door. I halted at its frame. I could their voices clearly. I pulled back my step and stood near the door with my back rested on the wall next to it. Harshad seemed serious. I began listening intently to the conversation between them.
“You said he won’t be there!” Harshad said furiously.
“He wasn’t supposed to be!” Piyush clarified with extreme efforts.
“Then??”
“His plan got cancelled!” Piyush explained.
“Did he say that?” Harshad’s stress on the word ‘He’ pierced me through my heart.
“Yeah”
“Bastard must be lying….must’ve cancelled it for the party…Bhosdika!”
Yes. Harshad was the same guy who had told me that he loved Shamita because he found me trustworthy.
“Come on Harshad!!....let him be man!!” Piyush said calming him down.
“No!....I won’t let him be!!” Harshad shouted on Piyush. “You know what he did?...” He continued in a threatening tone.
“No!...what did he do?” Piyush asked quizzed.
“He…” Harshad stammered, “he….”
“He what?”
“He slept with Shamita….”
“What?!!” Lightening struck Piyush.
“Yes!” Harshad assured firmly.
“When?!”
“When he pretended that he had gone home….he spent those days with Shamita….”
“What??!!”
“And they were at the hill station….not even there…..on a motel on the way!!”
“What the hell are you saying dude??” Piyush seemed shattered.
“Yeah!!…..I am telling you the truth!!”
“And who told you??” Piyush could hardly speak.
“Rahul!” I said loudly barging in.
(Contd.)
Piyush asks Harshal for a smoke on the terrace. Piyush looks at me from the corner of his eye. I notice his glance and nod casually in return. Without looking at him. Pretending to light my cigarette. Harshad turned back quickly to look at me. My desperate attempts to light up my cigarettes assured him of my drunken disorientation.
“Chal” Piyush said and they both left for d terrace.
I finally lit my cigarette. I stood up and began following them unnoticeably. They disappeared in the darkness of the passage that led to the terrace. I could hear their voices. They faded in the darkness. I followed their steps into the darkness.
The glow from my cigarette guided me up the stairs. I kept climbing them till I reached the door. I halted at its frame. I could their voices clearly. I pulled back my step and stood near the door with my back rested on the wall next to it. Harshad seemed serious. I began listening intently to the conversation between them.
“You said he won’t be there!” Harshad said furiously.
“He wasn’t supposed to be!” Piyush clarified with extreme efforts.
“Then??”
“His plan got cancelled!” Piyush explained.
“Did he say that?” Harshad’s stress on the word ‘He’ pierced me through my heart.
“Yeah”
“Bastard must be lying….must’ve cancelled it for the party…Bhosdika!”
Yes. Harshad was the same guy who had told me that he loved Shamita because he found me trustworthy.
“Come on Harshad!!....let him be man!!” Piyush said calming him down.
“No!....I won’t let him be!!” Harshad shouted on Piyush. “You know what he did?...” He continued in a threatening tone.
“No!...what did he do?” Piyush asked quizzed.
“He…” Harshad stammered, “he….”
“He what?”
“He slept with Shamita….”
“What?!!” Lightening struck Piyush.
“Yes!” Harshad assured firmly.
“When?!”
“When he pretended that he had gone home….he spent those days with Shamita….”
“What??!!”
“And they were at the hill station….not even there…..on a motel on the way!!”
“What the hell are you saying dude??” Piyush seemed shattered.
“Yeah!!…..I am telling you the truth!!”
“And who told you??” Piyush could hardly speak.
“Rahul!” I said loudly barging in.
(Contd.)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
5.e
Friends are a family here. Because we have no family here. Friends become our family. And at times they seem better than families. They don’t ask you questions about your future plans. They don’t question your participation in the activities of your kin They don’t stress you out with their strains. And they can be accepted or rejected at any point of time. And similar applies to you. They can accept or reject you too based on a whim or a pointless reason. And finally make up with you because they have tied you a ‘friendship band’ on a ‘friendship day’. Friends have an ideal flexibility to form a happy family. A bonding without a bondage.
And unlike families, they gather at a single call.
When I reached the room with a bottle of Old Monk and Thums Up, I saw a line of motorbikes standing below our room. My family was here.
My steps hastened.
When I pushed open the door with my leg, I saw everybody sitting in a circle, prepared for the grand moment of disclosure. The bottles were arranged neatly in the centre like rockets about to launch off. And the ‘Chakhna’ was decorated artistically around it. Sure work of an artist. Undoubtedly Dilip. Could start a catering business in later life.
“Welcome….welcome!!...We were waiting for you, you fucker!” Anshul shouted aloud!
“And I am here now!!” I shouted back.
Everybody clapped! That’s the best thing about such parties. People get high before they are drunk. It’s not actually about alcohol. It’s about the bliss of having it together. That’s what gives it a high. And that was what everybody was drunk today. Bliss. Except one.
Harshad looked at me in a surprise when entered the room. His face flashed the betrayal sign. I could read it clearly. And so could Piyush. But I didn’t care to look at Piyush. I went straight and sat besides Harshad. I put down the plastic bags. Dilip quickly arranged them in his catering décor.
I put my hand around Harshad’s shoulder and squeeze him. He gives me an uncomfortable smile. I smile back.
“So…what’s the party for??” Samrat asks. He has the right. He doesn’t incline towards any of the vices to reign in some time. Yet he has to sit through the entire episode of emotional eruptions. Fights, promises, assurances, coalitions and debates. And in the end, move the collapsed friends to beddings. Clean up the mess and w+ake them up the in the morning. That was a too big price to pay for being out of the vices. And thyat also gave him a right to know why the next mess, that he has to clear through the night, will be created.
“No!...” Piyush shouted “Let us first begin with the ritual!”
All agreed to it. Samrat began biting his nails. Except him nobody cared about what the party was for. Others were busy worrying how many pegs could they gulp down.
Drinks were opened and poured out in even amounts into everybody’s use-and-throw plastic glasses. All kept it neat and raised a toast.
“Cheers!....to me!” Piyush said loud enough to wake up the landlord.
“Shhhhhhhh” Samrat hissed his fear “You will wake up Mama!!!”
“Oh sorry!...cheers to me!” Piyush said it in a low voice. “All finish the first peg bottoms up” He said and all swallowed up the liquid in a single go.
It went burning down our throats. As we over came the flame in our throats, we were already light in our heads.
“Now tell us dude!...what is the party about?” Dilip asked.
“The reason for the party is….just like that!!!...Its been a long time we haven’t had a large party like this…just that!” Piyush jumped off the track. Moron shat in his pants. And I was vouching for this dickhead. If it hadn’t been for Rahul’s punch, I would’ve devised one thousand easy ways of getting him out of the race. But the fire of revenge is a raging one. I pity myself. I want to hug Harshad tight for a moment and say ‘Shamita is my guarantee…take her!’ And the pain in my belly suddenly hurts me hard. The thought vanishes.
“Yess….that calls for another toast!!” Anshul said filled with enthusiasm.
“Yes!!” We all say in unision.
(Contd.)
And unlike families, they gather at a single call.
When I reached the room with a bottle of Old Monk and Thums Up, I saw a line of motorbikes standing below our room. My family was here.
My steps hastened.
When I pushed open the door with my leg, I saw everybody sitting in a circle, prepared for the grand moment of disclosure. The bottles were arranged neatly in the centre like rockets about to launch off. And the ‘Chakhna’ was decorated artistically around it. Sure work of an artist. Undoubtedly Dilip. Could start a catering business in later life.
“Welcome….welcome!!...We were waiting for you, you fucker!” Anshul shouted aloud!
“And I am here now!!” I shouted back.
Everybody clapped! That’s the best thing about such parties. People get high before they are drunk. It’s not actually about alcohol. It’s about the bliss of having it together. That’s what gives it a high. And that was what everybody was drunk today. Bliss. Except one.
Harshad looked at me in a surprise when entered the room. His face flashed the betrayal sign. I could read it clearly. And so could Piyush. But I didn’t care to look at Piyush. I went straight and sat besides Harshad. I put down the plastic bags. Dilip quickly arranged them in his catering décor.
I put my hand around Harshad’s shoulder and squeeze him. He gives me an uncomfortable smile. I smile back.
“So…what’s the party for??” Samrat asks. He has the right. He doesn’t incline towards any of the vices to reign in some time. Yet he has to sit through the entire episode of emotional eruptions. Fights, promises, assurances, coalitions and debates. And in the end, move the collapsed friends to beddings. Clean up the mess and w+ake them up the in the morning. That was a too big price to pay for being out of the vices. And thyat also gave him a right to know why the next mess, that he has to clear through the night, will be created.
“No!...” Piyush shouted “Let us first begin with the ritual!”
All agreed to it. Samrat began biting his nails. Except him nobody cared about what the party was for. Others were busy worrying how many pegs could they gulp down.
Drinks were opened and poured out in even amounts into everybody’s use-and-throw plastic glasses. All kept it neat and raised a toast.
“Cheers!....to me!” Piyush said loud enough to wake up the landlord.
“Shhhhhhhh” Samrat hissed his fear “You will wake up Mama!!!”
“Oh sorry!...cheers to me!” Piyush said it in a low voice. “All finish the first peg bottoms up” He said and all swallowed up the liquid in a single go.
It went burning down our throats. As we over came the flame in our throats, we were already light in our heads.
“Now tell us dude!...what is the party about?” Dilip asked.
“The reason for the party is….just like that!!!...Its been a long time we haven’t had a large party like this…just that!” Piyush jumped off the track. Moron shat in his pants. And I was vouching for this dickhead. If it hadn’t been for Rahul’s punch, I would’ve devised one thousand easy ways of getting him out of the race. But the fire of revenge is a raging one. I pity myself. I want to hug Harshad tight for a moment and say ‘Shamita is my guarantee…take her!’ And the pain in my belly suddenly hurts me hard. The thought vanishes.
“Yess….that calls for another toast!!” Anshul said filled with enthusiasm.
“Yes!!” We all say in unision.
(Contd.)
Sunday, July 26, 2009
5.d
“Hey….Piyush!!!” Harshad replied.
“Hey Harshal!!!....hows you dude??!”
“We met in the morning dude!!…He he he he!!” Harshad laughed.
“Yeah…” I could see Piyush loosing. Buck up fucker.
“What happened??”
“Are you free tomorrow night?”
“Why??”
“Party dude!!....with all the stuff!!...come to the room”
There was a brief moment of silence on the phone. Piyush lost the nerve.
“Harshad???”
“Yeah I am here…”
“what dude??....coming na??”
“Umm…who all is there?”
Piyush and I look at each other. I give him a nod.
“You, Me, Dilip, Anshul, Samrat…our usual people man!!”
“And Anay?”
“Nope…Anany isn’t there yaar…”he said looking at me. “…He’s going home for some function” Dickhead turned out to be better than I expected.
“Hmmm…”
“So what say??....kal pakka?” Piyush asked him nervously.
“Umm…alright!!”
“That’s it man….see ya tomorrow then!!”
“Yup…see ya tomorrow!”
Piyush hung up. He looked at me. I looked back at him.
“He’s coming!” He said. I went ahead and shook his hand. He hugged me.
“You would be there na?”
“Yeah…I would!” I patted his back.
How couldn’t I be. This wasn’t just about Piyush. In fact it wasn’t at all about Piyush. He was just an aide. He was my general. And my army. And also my master. I was the purpose. And he was the mean. And he had to follow me. Because I was his path. He had a role. And yet he was negligible. Sidelined. Overshadowed. By me!
“Thanks so much dude!...Thanks a lot!” Piyush said patting my back.
(Contd.)
“Hey Harshal!!!....hows you dude??!”
“We met in the morning dude!!…He he he he!!” Harshad laughed.
“Yeah…” I could see Piyush loosing. Buck up fucker.
“What happened??”
“Are you free tomorrow night?”
“Why??”
“Party dude!!....with all the stuff!!...come to the room”
There was a brief moment of silence on the phone. Piyush lost the nerve.
“Harshad???”
“Yeah I am here…”
“what dude??....coming na??”
“Umm…who all is there?”
Piyush and I look at each other. I give him a nod.
“You, Me, Dilip, Anshul, Samrat…our usual people man!!”
“And Anay?”
“Nope…Anany isn’t there yaar…”he said looking at me. “…He’s going home for some function” Dickhead turned out to be better than I expected.
“Hmmm…”
“So what say??....kal pakka?” Piyush asked him nervously.
“Umm…alright!!”
“That’s it man….see ya tomorrow then!!”
“Yup…see ya tomorrow!”
Piyush hung up. He looked at me. I looked back at him.
“He’s coming!” He said. I went ahead and shook his hand. He hugged me.
“You would be there na?”
“Yeah…I would!” I patted his back.
How couldn’t I be. This wasn’t just about Piyush. In fact it wasn’t at all about Piyush. He was just an aide. He was my general. And my army. And also my master. I was the purpose. And he was the mean. And he had to follow me. Because I was his path. He had a role. And yet he was negligible. Sidelined. Overshadowed. By me!
“Thanks so much dude!...Thanks a lot!” Piyush said patting my back.
(Contd.)
5. c
“Brothers!!!…Party tomorrow!!” Piyush announces the moment we reach the room.
“Why?” Dilip asked.
“Special reasons!...You will know tomorrow!!!” Piyush said looking at me and smiling to himself.
Everybody in the room had by the time guessed what was the special reason from the blush on his face. The only point of curiosity that had left them clueless was the girl who had left the blush on Piyush’s tanned skin. And it had to be a surreptitious since it was contained within a rationale.
The looks turned towards me for a clarification. I smiled blatantly in return.
“Chal…” Piyush said turning towards me.
“Where?” I asked with a false surprise.
“Let’s call up others…”
“Okay” I say shrugging my shoulders.
Leaving the occupants in the room clueless, we move to the terrace.
“Harshad??” I ask Piyush fidgeting with the mobile phone in his hand.
“Yeah!” He replies.
“Switch on the speakers dude…”
“Yup!”
“And…Don’t tell him I am there!”
“Why?”
“He won’t come…”
“But…”
“Trust me dude!...don’t tell him!”
“Alright…”
Piyush dialled the number and put the phone to his hand. He then quickly switched it to the speaker mode. We could hear Harshad’s phone ringing. We waited anxiously for him to pick up the phone. And the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And then stopped ringing.
Piyush scrolled through his contact list with an alarming urgency after the ringing died off.
“Call again…” I said in a shot of perplexity.
“Yeah…one sec!” He gave a stressed reply.
“What?!…call him again…what are you scrolling for?”
“Just a sec…”
“Whom are you calling??”
“Shamita…”
“What?!...What for?!”
“Maybe they are together…” He said with a slight stammer.
I immediately grasped the crisis in the situation.
“Wait!….wait!….I will call her…” I barked on him. “If they are together…Harshad would surely realise that you are trying to track him…” For a moment I felt ashamed of w+hat I w+as doing. I w+as exploiting his fear. I w+as bloating it up for him, to calm him dow+n. the irony struck me despite my sw+elling guilt.
“Yeah…you are right…You call up…” He stopped scrolling through his phone.
I dial Shamita’s number and switch on the speakers. I believe in transparency.
She answers the call instantly.
“Hello Shammy….”
“Hieeeee….” She shouts on phone.
“Where are you?”
“We are having an ice cream at the corner shop…wanna come?”
Piyush misses a beat at the word ‘We’.
“We means…who all?” I attempt to clear his doubt.
“Me, Preeti and Anita…why?”
“No nothing…okay you enjoy your ice-cream…will talk to you later..”
“Was it anything impo….” Beep…beep…beep! I cut the call!
“Call Harshad now…” I command Piyush.
Piyush dials Harshad’s number again. It rings on the speaker.
We wait eagerly again.
Harshad picks up the phone.
(Contd.)
“Why?” Dilip asked.
“Special reasons!...You will know tomorrow!!!” Piyush said looking at me and smiling to himself.
Everybody in the room had by the time guessed what was the special reason from the blush on his face. The only point of curiosity that had left them clueless was the girl who had left the blush on Piyush’s tanned skin. And it had to be a surreptitious since it was contained within a rationale.
The looks turned towards me for a clarification. I smiled blatantly in return.
“Chal…” Piyush said turning towards me.
“Where?” I asked with a false surprise.
“Let’s call up others…”
“Okay” I say shrugging my shoulders.
Leaving the occupants in the room clueless, we move to the terrace.
“Harshad??” I ask Piyush fidgeting with the mobile phone in his hand.
“Yeah!” He replies.
“Switch on the speakers dude…”
“Yup!”
“And…Don’t tell him I am there!”
“Why?”
“He won’t come…”
“But…”
“Trust me dude!...don’t tell him!”
“Alright…”
Piyush dialled the number and put the phone to his hand. He then quickly switched it to the speaker mode. We could hear Harshad’s phone ringing. We waited anxiously for him to pick up the phone. And the phone rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. And then stopped ringing.
Piyush scrolled through his contact list with an alarming urgency after the ringing died off.
“Call again…” I said in a shot of perplexity.
“Yeah…one sec!” He gave a stressed reply.
“What?!…call him again…what are you scrolling for?”
“Just a sec…”
“Whom are you calling??”
“Shamita…”
“What?!...What for?!”
“Maybe they are together…” He said with a slight stammer.
I immediately grasped the crisis in the situation.
“Wait!….wait!….I will call her…” I barked on him. “If they are together…Harshad would surely realise that you are trying to track him…” For a moment I felt ashamed of w+hat I w+as doing. I w+as exploiting his fear. I w+as bloating it up for him, to calm him dow+n. the irony struck me despite my sw+elling guilt.
“Yeah…you are right…You call up…” He stopped scrolling through his phone.
I dial Shamita’s number and switch on the speakers. I believe in transparency.
She answers the call instantly.
“Hello Shammy….”
“Hieeeee….” She shouts on phone.
“Where are you?”
“We are having an ice cream at the corner shop…wanna come?”
Piyush misses a beat at the word ‘We’.
“We means…who all?” I attempt to clear his doubt.
“Me, Preeti and Anita…why?”
“No nothing…okay you enjoy your ice-cream…will talk to you later..”
“Was it anything impo….” Beep…beep…beep! I cut the call!
“Call Harshad now…” I command Piyush.
Piyush dials Harshad’s number again. It rings on the speaker.
We wait eagerly again.
Harshad picks up the phone.
(Contd.)
5. b
“But how will we test him?” We take a smoke break riding down the Expressway Bypass to the main city. It’s the best way we can entertain ourselves on weekends. Going to the city and walking aimlessly on its roads and through its lanes and by-lanes. A tea or a coffee somewhere and preferably dinner too. Then return to the room late at night. City is our only source of entertainment. It is our only hope to survival which stands against the exasperation of the life in the arsehole of the world. And everytime we visit the city, we secretly desire of finding a place there and settling down in one of its plush by-lanes at the end of the course. As a retribution for the days spent in the aspirant suburb of the city.
And the ride to the city is a pleasant one. A bypass to the Expressway. Then Expressway to the next bypass. And again a bypass to the city. There is another route too. The old highway which stood as the only mean of connection between the two cities, till the advent of the Expressway. But the road is grimily occupied by buildings and shops on both the sides.
I take a long puff.
“Tell me man…..” Piyush lights up his cigarette.
“What?”
“How will we test him?”
I rest my butt on the tank of the standing motorbike. Take another deep drag of smoke into me. Piyush stands before me like a priest before an oracle awaiting the answer. And I answer.
“I have an idea…”
“What?”
“Declaration…”
“What declaration?”
“Declare like him….”
“Like him…?”
“Yeah….Tell everybody that you like Shamita…especially him!”
“But…”
“Do as I say….tomorrow we call Harshad for an overnight…and then….you declare…”
“You mean….tell him?” He said finding a way out of his confusion.
“Yeah….tell him that you love Shamita!....”
“And…” I could clearly see a question mark on his face. Further clarification was required.
“And then ask him if he would sacrifice…”
“Directly??”
“Yes...”
“Will that help?”
“What help you want??”
“I mean will he accept?”
“If he does…you are at a benefit…If he doesn’t….The test fails!...Got it?”
“I think so…”
“Ready then?”
“I think so…”
“Make up your mind…” I turned my leg and sat on the motorbike and kick-started it. “Sit!”
I had set the stage. The action was about to begin. Action! That was what I expected. That was what I wanted. I didn’t pray for Harshad to back out. Because I was sure he won’t.
After a kilometre or two of riding I felt a pat on my back.
“What??” I shouted to take my voice over the wind to him.
“You mean….” He shouted into my ear in return “……Do what he did??”
I felt like stopping the vehicle and hugging him for discovering the meaning of my statement. But I sidelined the temptation and kept on riding. Chutiya saalaa!
“Yessss” I replied loudly. The voice echoed through the hills along the road.
(Contd.)
And the ride to the city is a pleasant one. A bypass to the Expressway. Then Expressway to the next bypass. And again a bypass to the city. There is another route too. The old highway which stood as the only mean of connection between the two cities, till the advent of the Expressway. But the road is grimily occupied by buildings and shops on both the sides.
I take a long puff.
“Tell me man…..” Piyush lights up his cigarette.
“What?”
“How will we test him?”
I rest my butt on the tank of the standing motorbike. Take another deep drag of smoke into me. Piyush stands before me like a priest before an oracle awaiting the answer. And I answer.
“I have an idea…”
“What?”
“Declaration…”
“What declaration?”
“Declare like him….”
“Like him…?”
“Yeah….Tell everybody that you like Shamita…especially him!”
“But…”
“Do as I say….tomorrow we call Harshad for an overnight…and then….you declare…”
“You mean….tell him?” He said finding a way out of his confusion.
“Yeah….tell him that you love Shamita!....”
“And…” I could clearly see a question mark on his face. Further clarification was required.
“And then ask him if he would sacrifice…”
“Directly??”
“Yes...”
“Will that help?”
“What help you want??”
“I mean will he accept?”
“If he does…you are at a benefit…If he doesn’t….The test fails!...Got it?”
“I think so…”
“Ready then?”
“I think so…”
“Make up your mind…” I turned my leg and sat on the motorbike and kick-started it. “Sit!”
I had set the stage. The action was about to begin. Action! That was what I expected. That was what I wanted. I didn’t pray for Harshad to back out. Because I was sure he won’t.
After a kilometre or two of riding I felt a pat on my back.
“What??” I shouted to take my voice over the wind to him.
“You mean….” He shouted into my ear in return “……Do what he did??”
I felt like stopping the vehicle and hugging him for discovering the meaning of my statement. But I sidelined the temptation and kept on riding. Chutiya saalaa!
“Yessss” I replied loudly. The voice echoed through the hills along the road.
(Contd.)
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Chapter %
5. a
“Tell me Sanjay” said the old blind king “What are my sons doing?....I know you can see them…don’t you?...and you see my brother’s sons too…so tell me now…what is happening?...has the war begun??....tell me fast…I don’t want to miss a thing…I know you can see it all…you dare not try to fool me kid….I may be blind…but my eyes are in your mind…so tell me son…tell me all of it!”
And the televiser begins.
He tells him all that he sees. He describes the Warfield to him. With all the warriors in it. With all their weapons. And their chariots. He describes the order in which the warriors are standing in the war field. And he describes their lineage. Not to miss it. The most important element in a social structure. The lineage.
“Action!...action!!...I want some action!!!” old blind king shouts on televiser, bored of his monotonous vocalizations.
“But…”
“Chuck it!…I don’t want this…you show me some action or I replace you..”
“I am sorry!...” the televiser apologises. “And….” He continues.
“And what?”
“And the archer prince is asking the flutist to bring his chariot at the centre of the battleground…”
“Why?” the old blind king interrupts.
“Because the archer prince wants to see his friends and enemies from an equal distance…” the televiser reveals.
“Both?” wonders the old blind king.
“The enemies especially…” the televiser clarifies.
***
“I haundu hawk hoo yoo…” Piyush woke me up. He had a toothbrush stuck in his mouth and his mouth was filled with lather.
“What?” I was half-asleep lazing in my bed before waking up. I turned towards him with a great effort.
He left. I thanked god, closed my eyes and sank my head in the pillow again.
“I want to talk to you” He returned with clean teeth. Sparkling bright. Bright enough to wake me up.
“About?” I asked rubbing my eyes.
“Shamita…”
‘Good morning!’ I said to myself. I rose up and sat the bed resting my back on the wall besides it.
“Good morning…” Piyush said. Wow! He was preparing to be a very good corporate arse taker. He threw a regard before someone easily before showing disregards towards their immediate priorities.
“Yeah…good morning…tell me…”
“Do you remember you said that day??” He asked me inquisitively.
“About Whhhaaaaattt?” I yawned with the question. My brain was taking time to recover from the series of dreams I had seen as I slept. And the bright flash of this teeth too.
“About taking a stand…”
“Yeah I do…” Damn! This wasn’t the time to discuss it.
“I am taking a stand” He said firmly.
“Great!” I said with a forcibly induced enthusiasm.
“Yes…I have decided…I want Shamita!” He said, charged with determination. He actually did it swelling his chest and looking into my sleepy eyes.
“Are you sure…” I ask him just to check if he is speaking it out of morning dreaminess.
“Yes…and I am ready to stand against anybody…be it Harshad or any body” he says pressing on the last hissing sound.
“That’s like it…like a real man!...Be whatever I am with you dude!”
I did say it. I had a strong upsurge in me which made me say it. It was beyond my control. An upsurge of triumph. Piyush was standing up. Against Harshad. Bhenchod this was it what I was waiting for. The fumes of revenge had enraged once again. Incensed to avenge the humiliation. And Piyush’s determination had given it the power to engulf. The power to burn down the scars of a mortification engraved upon me. The power to heal the pain which recurs in me at the thought of the day. The pain in the jaw. The pain in the belly. The pain in the thigh. And the pain in the pride.
“But before that…” Piyush continued “I want you to help me with something…”
“What?” I ask.
“I want to test him…” Piyush says looking at me intently.
“Yes…let’s do it!”
***
“Then what does the flutist do?” asked the old blind king.
“He drives the chariot to the centre of the battlefield” answered his loyal televiser.
(Contd.)
“Tell me Sanjay” said the old blind king “What are my sons doing?....I know you can see them…don’t you?...and you see my brother’s sons too…so tell me now…what is happening?...has the war begun??....tell me fast…I don’t want to miss a thing…I know you can see it all…you dare not try to fool me kid….I may be blind…but my eyes are in your mind…so tell me son…tell me all of it!”
And the televiser begins.
He tells him all that he sees. He describes the Warfield to him. With all the warriors in it. With all their weapons. And their chariots. He describes the order in which the warriors are standing in the war field. And he describes their lineage. Not to miss it. The most important element in a social structure. The lineage.
“Action!...action!!...I want some action!!!” old blind king shouts on televiser, bored of his monotonous vocalizations.
“But…”
“Chuck it!…I don’t want this…you show me some action or I replace you..”
“I am sorry!...” the televiser apologises. “And….” He continues.
“And what?”
“And the archer prince is asking the flutist to bring his chariot at the centre of the battleground…”
“Why?” the old blind king interrupts.
“Because the archer prince wants to see his friends and enemies from an equal distance…” the televiser reveals.
“Both?” wonders the old blind king.
“The enemies especially…” the televiser clarifies.
***
“I haundu hawk hoo yoo…” Piyush woke me up. He had a toothbrush stuck in his mouth and his mouth was filled with lather.
“What?” I was half-asleep lazing in my bed before waking up. I turned towards him with a great effort.
He left. I thanked god, closed my eyes and sank my head in the pillow again.
“I want to talk to you” He returned with clean teeth. Sparkling bright. Bright enough to wake me up.
“About?” I asked rubbing my eyes.
“Shamita…”
‘Good morning!’ I said to myself. I rose up and sat the bed resting my back on the wall besides it.
“Good morning…” Piyush said. Wow! He was preparing to be a very good corporate arse taker. He threw a regard before someone easily before showing disregards towards their immediate priorities.
“Yeah…good morning…tell me…”
“Do you remember you said that day??” He asked me inquisitively.
“About Whhhaaaaattt?” I yawned with the question. My brain was taking time to recover from the series of dreams I had seen as I slept. And the bright flash of this teeth too.
“About taking a stand…”
“Yeah I do…” Damn! This wasn’t the time to discuss it.
“I am taking a stand” He said firmly.
“Great!” I said with a forcibly induced enthusiasm.
“Yes…I have decided…I want Shamita!” He said, charged with determination. He actually did it swelling his chest and looking into my sleepy eyes.
“Are you sure…” I ask him just to check if he is speaking it out of morning dreaminess.
“Yes…and I am ready to stand against anybody…be it Harshad or any body” he says pressing on the last hissing sound.
“That’s like it…like a real man!...Be whatever I am with you dude!”
I did say it. I had a strong upsurge in me which made me say it. It was beyond my control. An upsurge of triumph. Piyush was standing up. Against Harshad. Bhenchod this was it what I was waiting for. The fumes of revenge had enraged once again. Incensed to avenge the humiliation. And Piyush’s determination had given it the power to engulf. The power to burn down the scars of a mortification engraved upon me. The power to heal the pain which recurs in me at the thought of the day. The pain in the jaw. The pain in the belly. The pain in the thigh. And the pain in the pride.
“But before that…” Piyush continued “I want you to help me with something…”
“What?” I ask.
“I want to test him…” Piyush says looking at me intently.
“Yes…let’s do it!”
***
“Then what does the flutist do?” asked the old blind king.
“He drives the chariot to the centre of the battlefield” answered his loyal televiser.
(Contd.)
Monday, July 20, 2009
4. e
I drank expensive liquor and ate posh food from the money I had saved from chucking away the whore plan. At helped me in minimal percentages to gain my composure back.
I don’t usually drink alone. Lone drinking makes loneliness deeper. It cements the feeling of you being alone firmly in you. And you end up being sadder if you are sad and drink more. Or you end up as being sad if you are happy and drink more. So I usually avoid drinking alone.
But I did today. Because I had a strong urge to. It was one of the last options I could resort to without being pissed off. I got myself an ample high and returned to the arsehole of the world.
I climbed up wobbly steps of my room. Then I opened the wobbly door of my room. I entered my wobbly room.
“Arey…you didn’t go with them?” Samrat peeped into the room.
“Where?”
“Manjeet-Da-Dhaba….”
“Nope…I didn’t!…I didn’t know” I replied in a wobbly voice.
“They were trying to call you…”
I pulled out my phone and unlocked it. I saw fifteen missed calls. I opened the log. From a variety of people including Piyush and Dilip majorly. And I saw four messages. Requesting me to call back or receive the calls, sprinkled with moderate to fierce abuses. I wondered how I could not realise their attempts to communicate with me. I went back in time through the little time machine fixed in my brain. The picture clears when I remember that I had switched it to the silent mode when I was entering the Whore’s palace.
Bitch had robbed me of my integrity and a few friends’ expectations.
I decided to call them back, but the emptiness of the room was more tempting than a crowded Dhaba by the Expressway.
I turned to Samrat.
“Why didn’t you go?” I asked him toying with my mobile.
“I don’t drink…I don’t smoke…what will I do there?” he says sadly.
“What are you doing here now?”
“Nothing…”
“Same…”
He smiled wearily and returned to his room. I smiled wickedly. I felt like laughing aloud on his face.
I sat on the bed alone in the room. The walls closed in on me. It usually happened when I sat alone in the room. The walls seemed to close in and suffocate me. But the windows saved my life.
But today their usual movements made me uncomfortable. I could see them spreading darkness into the room. The darkness like I had seen at the railway station. The darkness I had seen in Sneha’s bedroom. The darkness that sat in the corner’s of the whore’s room. It was the same darkness.
***
“How did you know about it Apu…?” I asked her.
“Because you are always so fused up” She replied.
I smiled.
“Read it…it’s supposed to clear all snags”
“A communist says this???”
“Nope…A spiritual guide…need to change roles sometimes for naughty kids” She kissed my forehead. I cuddled up in her arms and began weeping like a kid. She caressed my hair the way my Mom did when I was a boy. “..n’ by the way”, she continued “…I am no communist…I am just a socialist!”
I hugged her tight.
***
“Read it…it’s supposed to clear all snags”
The darkness was spreading it’s claws in the corners of the room. It was filling the room with an inescapable gloom.
And the Bhagwad Geeta glowed in all its illumination where it was kept on the study table. I jumped off the bed and ran towards it to protect the room from the claws of darkness. I held it to my chest and came back to the bed. Only it could fight the growing darkness in the room. Not because it was a holy book. Because Apu had given it to me. It was my connection to her. The cable which connected me to her. It was the escape route. I would open it like a door and jump into it. I would then disappear into it. Into the domain of light. Away from the darkness spreading in the room.
I unwrapped it. It continued to glow. The Krishna on its cover guaranteed me with an escape. And an expert assistance over the same.
I opened the cover and a huge flash of blindening light emitted from it. It sucked me inside its brightness and I disappeared into the light.
Lost.
(Contd.)
I don’t usually drink alone. Lone drinking makes loneliness deeper. It cements the feeling of you being alone firmly in you. And you end up being sadder if you are sad and drink more. Or you end up as being sad if you are happy and drink more. So I usually avoid drinking alone.
But I did today. Because I had a strong urge to. It was one of the last options I could resort to without being pissed off. I got myself an ample high and returned to the arsehole of the world.
I climbed up wobbly steps of my room. Then I opened the wobbly door of my room. I entered my wobbly room.
“Arey…you didn’t go with them?” Samrat peeped into the room.
“Where?”
“Manjeet-Da-Dhaba….”
“Nope…I didn’t!…I didn’t know” I replied in a wobbly voice.
“They were trying to call you…”
I pulled out my phone and unlocked it. I saw fifteen missed calls. I opened the log. From a variety of people including Piyush and Dilip majorly. And I saw four messages. Requesting me to call back or receive the calls, sprinkled with moderate to fierce abuses. I wondered how I could not realise their attempts to communicate with me. I went back in time through the little time machine fixed in my brain. The picture clears when I remember that I had switched it to the silent mode when I was entering the Whore’s palace.
Bitch had robbed me of my integrity and a few friends’ expectations.
I decided to call them back, but the emptiness of the room was more tempting than a crowded Dhaba by the Expressway.
I turned to Samrat.
“Why didn’t you go?” I asked him toying with my mobile.
“I don’t drink…I don’t smoke…what will I do there?” he says sadly.
“What are you doing here now?”
“Nothing…”
“Same…”
He smiled wearily and returned to his room. I smiled wickedly. I felt like laughing aloud on his face.
I sat on the bed alone in the room. The walls closed in on me. It usually happened when I sat alone in the room. The walls seemed to close in and suffocate me. But the windows saved my life.
But today their usual movements made me uncomfortable. I could see them spreading darkness into the room. The darkness like I had seen at the railway station. The darkness I had seen in Sneha’s bedroom. The darkness that sat in the corner’s of the whore’s room. It was the same darkness.
***
“How did you know about it Apu…?” I asked her.
“Because you are always so fused up” She replied.
I smiled.
“Read it…it’s supposed to clear all snags”
“A communist says this???”
“Nope…A spiritual guide…need to change roles sometimes for naughty kids” She kissed my forehead. I cuddled up in her arms and began weeping like a kid. She caressed my hair the way my Mom did when I was a boy. “..n’ by the way”, she continued “…I am no communist…I am just a socialist!”
I hugged her tight.
***
“Read it…it’s supposed to clear all snags”
The darkness was spreading it’s claws in the corners of the room. It was filling the room with an inescapable gloom.
And the Bhagwad Geeta glowed in all its illumination where it was kept on the study table. I jumped off the bed and ran towards it to protect the room from the claws of darkness. I held it to my chest and came back to the bed. Only it could fight the growing darkness in the room. Not because it was a holy book. Because Apu had given it to me. It was my connection to her. The cable which connected me to her. It was the escape route. I would open it like a door and jump into it. I would then disappear into it. Into the domain of light. Away from the darkness spreading in the room.
I unwrapped it. It continued to glow. The Krishna on its cover guaranteed me with an escape. And an expert assistance over the same.
I opened the cover and a huge flash of blindening light emitted from it. It sucked me inside its brightness and I disappeared into the light.
Lost.
(Contd.)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
4. d
I wasn’t left with a face to approach Sneha again. I had almost given up eating at Aunty’s café. I used to visit it only when Aunty used to be alone. Even a glimpse of Sneha made me uncomfortable enough to leave without even touching whatever I had ordered.
The incidence had also left me with a question about my hampered masculinity. My tests included molesting myself from time to time. With thoughts from present, past and future. The mechanism was working absolutely fine. There were all stage of copulation present and well performing. But even my fantasies couldn’t go beyond my erotic moments with Aparna. Whenever I broke the barrier, I ended up spilling before benchmark timings. I had began worrying if my ability had chained themselves to Aparna and left along with her.
I became desperate to prove myself to me. I grew impatient to verify my potency beyond Aparna. But it also scared me to approach any of my previous subjects of intimate endeavours. I didn’t want one more Sneha.
I saw only one option before me.
***
“Kitna?” I asked her.
“Hajaar night ka…room ka paanchso alag”. Fifteen hundred was a too big price to pay for a test. But due to some unjustified reasons I wanted to take it. It was ludicrously essential. I was willing to spend half of my month’s expenses on a prostitute just to ensure that I could get a hard on.
A part of me was still unsure about paying the whore so much just for a night.
“Kuchh kamti nahi hoga?”
What so ever be the situation, the virtues of a middle class human does not depart from its soul with an ease. I begin bargaining with a prostitute. Over the years of shopping with my parents, I have learnt one thing for sure. In every deal, Bargain! Be it a peas, pant piece or a prostitute, no deal is complete without a bargain.
“Ghusaane aaya hai yaa ghisaane aaya hai?”
“Bolo na yaar….thoda upar neeche kuch hota hai toh…”
“Log idhar aagey peechhe karne aate hai…aur tu upar neeche karega??...”
“Budget nahi hai…”
“Bol kitna dega?”
“Hajaar…”
“Baraso se ek paisa kam nahi legi main…”
“Hajaar mein fit kardo…ho jaayega….”
“Nahi hota…”
“Theek hai…jaane do phir…”
That is the biggest trick in a bargain. Exit the deal if you don’t get the right price. It compels the seller to slash down his rates further. It does not work everytime though. There are some hard nuts. But the overall results are above satisfactory.
“Gyarahso last…”
“Hajaar…”
“Gyaraso….nahi toh jaane do…”
The trick can be played from the other end too.
“Theek hai.” I accept.
I crack a deal. I fix a prostitute for eleven hundred rupees only. I bargain. I bring down her rates from fifteen hundred to eleven hundred. My mom would have been so proud of me if she had seen this. I had proved myself worthy of my upbringings. I had won a bargain.
She took me to a small dingy room on the first floor of a building which looked like a historic ancestral house of some family involved political affairs in its times.
All the brothels on this road looked this way. One of the later Maratha kings towards end of Maratha regime had settled this street to fulfil his insatiable desire for skin. Or maybe, he was on a test like me. But his test never ended. He must’ve settled an entire locality of prostitutes through his daily testing schedule. The place now had prostitutes from around the country. But the spirit of the king still roams through all those who visit this place.
As I had entered through the small entrance, the exquisite carving on the wooden pillars make me feel like entering a royal courtesan’s abode. I had followed her to his room across several such rooms filled with an intercourse.
The room was pathetically painted in a soiled green colour. There were tiles put up at places where the colour had chipped off. One wall looked like a large game of Tetris.
She stood before me.
“Dekho saahab…fix rate mein…” She began quoting a list of rules.
Rules for a paid sexual activity:
1. Thou shalt not kiss
2. Thou shalt not lick
3. Thou shalt not bite
4. Thou shalt not suck
5. Thou shalt not be forceful
6. Thou shalt not demand a blow job
7. Thou shalt not spoil the clothing
8. Thou shalt not spoil the make up
9. Thou shalt not spoil the hair
10. Thou shalt not ask for the name
11. Thou shalt pay the tip
12. More the tip that shall thy pay, shalt each rule be dropped.
I said I had no more money left for the tip.
“Theek hai!” she said and stretched out on the bed. She raised her legs and pulled down the saree baring them before me.
“Haan…chaalu karo!”
Bare thighs as these would have other wise driven me crazy. But the edge of professionalism with which they were uncovered created a repulsion in me. To add to the ugliness. She opened them displaying her reproductive organ. The filth turned me off. I has painstakingly chosen her over the other whores because I thought she had the ability to seduce. That was a speculation based over her appearance. But I had been deceived my instincts. Even though It was nothing new for me, the level of it’s failure had dealt a shock to me.
“Jaldi…aise pakad ke nahi let sakti main jaasti time…”
So what if you can’t keep lying with your legs raised in air. Not my fault. I didn’t ask for it. Bloody Bitch. Die out of AIDS! Rot in hell!
I always had a soft corner for whores. More of a sympathy towards their profession and condition. I had lost it now.
And as far as erection was considered, no prizes for guessing that I didn’t have one. I couldn’t and never would have it before readily spread legs of a prostitute.
I turned and walked out of the room. I exit the place. I turned around and saw the road filled with many such like her. And large wooden windows of their affiliations.
My test never began, forget failing.
I thought of approaching another one. But the logic of professional similarity hit me. If one was her, rest would be intense or diluted versions of her. But like her.
Maybe the king didn’t possess this logic. Or maybe he didn’t the feel the same way as I did now. The long road stacked with brothel houses was an evidence.
As I walked away from that place, the compulsion to prove my masculinity had left me. I doubted if it made any difference to me after this incidence. With it I would join the breed of able men who would otherwise visit one such whore and thrust that erection into her ugly gateway. And without it, I would join the creed of men who would regret its absence and yet continue to live the same lives. How would it differentiate me from other men. Men who lost the battle with their lives every day.
I didn’t want to loose myself in their crowd. I had to stand out.
A strong urge to differentiate myself from the world filled me up. Aparna, her loss, the deflation, Sneha nothing held any meaning to me. Just one word left back.
'Difference'
(Contd.)
The incidence had also left me with a question about my hampered masculinity. My tests included molesting myself from time to time. With thoughts from present, past and future. The mechanism was working absolutely fine. There were all stage of copulation present and well performing. But even my fantasies couldn’t go beyond my erotic moments with Aparna. Whenever I broke the barrier, I ended up spilling before benchmark timings. I had began worrying if my ability had chained themselves to Aparna and left along with her.
I became desperate to prove myself to me. I grew impatient to verify my potency beyond Aparna. But it also scared me to approach any of my previous subjects of intimate endeavours. I didn’t want one more Sneha.
I saw only one option before me.
***
“Kitna?” I asked her.
“Hajaar night ka…room ka paanchso alag”. Fifteen hundred was a too big price to pay for a test. But due to some unjustified reasons I wanted to take it. It was ludicrously essential. I was willing to spend half of my month’s expenses on a prostitute just to ensure that I could get a hard on.
A part of me was still unsure about paying the whore so much just for a night.
“Kuchh kamti nahi hoga?”
What so ever be the situation, the virtues of a middle class human does not depart from its soul with an ease. I begin bargaining with a prostitute. Over the years of shopping with my parents, I have learnt one thing for sure. In every deal, Bargain! Be it a peas, pant piece or a prostitute, no deal is complete without a bargain.
“Ghusaane aaya hai yaa ghisaane aaya hai?”
“Bolo na yaar….thoda upar neeche kuch hota hai toh…”
“Log idhar aagey peechhe karne aate hai…aur tu upar neeche karega??...”
“Budget nahi hai…”
“Bol kitna dega?”
“Hajaar…”
“Baraso se ek paisa kam nahi legi main…”
“Hajaar mein fit kardo…ho jaayega….”
“Nahi hota…”
“Theek hai…jaane do phir…”
That is the biggest trick in a bargain. Exit the deal if you don’t get the right price. It compels the seller to slash down his rates further. It does not work everytime though. There are some hard nuts. But the overall results are above satisfactory.
“Gyarahso last…”
“Hajaar…”
“Gyaraso….nahi toh jaane do…”
The trick can be played from the other end too.
“Theek hai.” I accept.
I crack a deal. I fix a prostitute for eleven hundred rupees only. I bargain. I bring down her rates from fifteen hundred to eleven hundred. My mom would have been so proud of me if she had seen this. I had proved myself worthy of my upbringings. I had won a bargain.
She took me to a small dingy room on the first floor of a building which looked like a historic ancestral house of some family involved political affairs in its times.
All the brothels on this road looked this way. One of the later Maratha kings towards end of Maratha regime had settled this street to fulfil his insatiable desire for skin. Or maybe, he was on a test like me. But his test never ended. He must’ve settled an entire locality of prostitutes through his daily testing schedule. The place now had prostitutes from around the country. But the spirit of the king still roams through all those who visit this place.
As I had entered through the small entrance, the exquisite carving on the wooden pillars make me feel like entering a royal courtesan’s abode. I had followed her to his room across several such rooms filled with an intercourse.
The room was pathetically painted in a soiled green colour. There were tiles put up at places where the colour had chipped off. One wall looked like a large game of Tetris.
She stood before me.
“Dekho saahab…fix rate mein…” She began quoting a list of rules.
Rules for a paid sexual activity:
1. Thou shalt not kiss
2. Thou shalt not lick
3. Thou shalt not bite
4. Thou shalt not suck
5. Thou shalt not be forceful
6. Thou shalt not demand a blow job
7. Thou shalt not spoil the clothing
8. Thou shalt not spoil the make up
9. Thou shalt not spoil the hair
10. Thou shalt not ask for the name
11. Thou shalt pay the tip
12. More the tip that shall thy pay, shalt each rule be dropped.
I said I had no more money left for the tip.
“Theek hai!” she said and stretched out on the bed. She raised her legs and pulled down the saree baring them before me.
“Haan…chaalu karo!”
Bare thighs as these would have other wise driven me crazy. But the edge of professionalism with which they were uncovered created a repulsion in me. To add to the ugliness. She opened them displaying her reproductive organ. The filth turned me off. I has painstakingly chosen her over the other whores because I thought she had the ability to seduce. That was a speculation based over her appearance. But I had been deceived my instincts. Even though It was nothing new for me, the level of it’s failure had dealt a shock to me.
“Jaldi…aise pakad ke nahi let sakti main jaasti time…”
So what if you can’t keep lying with your legs raised in air. Not my fault. I didn’t ask for it. Bloody Bitch. Die out of AIDS! Rot in hell!
I always had a soft corner for whores. More of a sympathy towards their profession and condition. I had lost it now.
And as far as erection was considered, no prizes for guessing that I didn’t have one. I couldn’t and never would have it before readily spread legs of a prostitute.
I turned and walked out of the room. I exit the place. I turned around and saw the road filled with many such like her. And large wooden windows of their affiliations.
My test never began, forget failing.
I thought of approaching another one. But the logic of professional similarity hit me. If one was her, rest would be intense or diluted versions of her. But like her.
Maybe the king didn’t possess this logic. Or maybe he didn’t the feel the same way as I did now. The long road stacked with brothel houses was an evidence.
As I walked away from that place, the compulsion to prove my masculinity had left me. I doubted if it made any difference to me after this incidence. With it I would join the breed of able men who would otherwise visit one such whore and thrust that erection into her ugly gateway. And without it, I would join the creed of men who would regret its absence and yet continue to live the same lives. How would it differentiate me from other men. Men who lost the battle with their lives every day.
I didn’t want to loose myself in their crowd. I had to stand out.
A strong urge to differentiate myself from the world filled me up. Aparna, her loss, the deflation, Sneha nothing held any meaning to me. Just one word left back.
'Difference'
(Contd.)
Saturday, July 18, 2009
4.c
I kiss her into her bedroom.
Aunty is not at home. It’s not the regular closing time. Yet the shutters are down. Sneha has the permission to pull them down whenever Aunty isn’t there. After all she is an attractive young girl in her days of bloom. And every mother of an attractive young girl in her days of bloom is worried about leaving her alone, directly exposed to millions of scanner eyes and lusty proposals. In cliché terms, keep a freshly blossomed bud within the range of countless hungry male bees.
But, even the strongest of pesticide can’t stop a king bee from entering into a flower. Larger the bee, larger the thirst. Larger the thirst, larger the fervour.
I had woken up late due to overdrinking at last night’s booze bash. I had woken up once at my usual hour. But I crashed down again realising its worthlessness. I woke up later and found it worthless again. I was about to crash again but I resisted it out of shame. I stood up. Had a wash and left for late brunch to Aunty’s. A permanent feeling of worthlessness had gripped me completely as I walked towards Aunty’s place. This wasn’t the first time I was feeling this. But this was the first time I was feeling this when I was alone. I did have people around me. But I hadn’t felt the feeling of belonging to any one of them. I was all alone in this dark hole.
All I needed was a shoulder to rest my head on. A shoulder which could soak up my dry sniffles in it. A shoulder which could comfort my ache. A shoulder which could glue me to itself.
I reached Aunty’s café. I saw Sneha alone at the counter. She had worn a crimson Ganji. Her chest open and her shoulders bare. Their glaze stood out prominently over the crimson darkness of her top. Her nipples stood out as two dark dots on her chest. The café was unusually crowded today.
I stared at them as I walked to her. I wanted to touch them. Feel their softness. To slide my fingers over their smoothness. Maybe to touch them with my lips. Or even dig my teeth into them. Lust at times, remains a male’s only way out from pain.
A stand before her looking into her eyes.
“Aunty?” I ask.
“Not at home!” She replies with a wicked look in her eyes.
“Now?” I ask.
“Afternoon” she says making a sandwich for me. She knows my taste. “She will return at night!”, she pushes the sandwich into my hands approaching to touch hers and bends over the counter to take a closer look at my face. I get a closer look of her ripening cleavage.
***
She pulls down the shutter. I enter from the back door. Her shoulders and her cleavage is on my mind since the moment she had lifted herself back to straightness.
It had filled my mind. I had not for a moment thought of Apu’s loss but instead what occupied my mind was gaining Sneha.
WARNING:
People with High Moral Stand Please Refrain from reading this part. It is an excellent example of Pornographic Literature.
The moment she closed the door, I entered into a lip lock with her. I had kissed her in a violent excitement. She returned it voraciously. I had assaulted her with my lust. And she was bathing herself in it. My hands held her by her arms tightly without letting her move. I made her walk my steps. I knew the place well. And I knew what was where. My hands reached for her shoulders and began caressing them. Her hands wrapped my shoulders and pulled me closer.
I kissed her all the way into their bedroom. I pushed her on the bed. I lay there with closed eyes awaiting my arrival. I crouched over her and kissed her fervent cleavage, about to spill out of her low neck. The softness felt by my lips urged them to explore those blooming bosoms more. I kissed her endlessly on the smooth skin of her chest. I went on kissing to the covered parts of her breast and found their peaks jutting out of the cloth over them. I kissed them gently. She twisted with a moan. Her fingers running through my hair suddenly held them tight for a moment and began caressing them again.
I trapped her between my legs and I rose to sit on my knees. I pulled off my T-Shirt and reclined over her again, this time attacking her shoulders. He bosom kept rubbing on my chest as I attempted to swallow her shoulders. One of her Ganji straps had slipped off her shoulder when I had began kissing her, revealing her gleaming shoulder and a bit oversized for a teenager breasts, which had tempted me to eat her more.
I kissed ceaselessly over the shoulder, upon the neck, down the chest and up her lovely jigs. My hand crawled upto their perfect roundness and pressed them softly. She moaned again. I pressed them again. A bit harder than the last time and she moaned louder.
I went kissing lower and kissed her belly in the gap between her Ganjis and her pyjamas. I pushed her Ganjis up and kissed delicately on her navel. She shuddered on the touch of my lips. I pushed up her top further and rubbed my cheeks on her belly. She held my hair tight pulling me upwards. I pushed her top over her hillocks carefully as if I was unwrapping a gift paper without tearing it.
Women always hold the power to surprise men. Whoever they may be. And surprise them more if they are known men. Sneha, like every other woman possessed it too. As I rolled up her Ganjis to her shoulders, a surprise struck me hard in my face. On a dark cloth suspended by two thin laces were two parts of a heart on each breast, supported by the ‘elegant’ designs that a lingerie is supposed to have. Two roughly cut parts of a bright red valentine heart. It looked like the designer or whomsoever had torn it and placed the two pieces on each of her breast. If it had been better, I could have called it ridiculous. But it was not.
She caught me staring dumbfounded at the intriguing design and said,
“Heartbreak!”
The word suddenly rang hard in my ears.
Heartbreak!
“That’s the name of the design. Heartbreak!”
It’s next utterance hit me like a blow. I remained steadfast in the position I was staring at it. Sneha, with a smart bend in her knees, slid herself down and bring her face to the level of my eyes.
“What?!...Haven’t seen a bra before?” She asked smiling with ‘gotchya!’ look on her face. She was too happy about the trick that she just played. And I was engrossed with the word she had just spoken.
I tried to shake myself out of my reverie. She wrapped me in her arms and turned me around. I freed myself from her arms and pushed myself back to sit up, reclining on the curve of their bed. I was loosing my hardness.
“Oh!...Revenge?” she said and crouched over me with new vehemence. She began kissing me from my navel and moved upwards towards my chest. In normal circumstances, this would have provoked me the most. But today it didn’t create even a slightest of tremor in me. She placed countless kisses on my chest. I sat there stoned. She took my nipples in her teeth and sucked them. But I sat numb. She took her final step. Rubbing her bosom on mine, she approached to kiss me. I felt the pieces of heart rubbing on my chest. The work reverberated once again in me. Heartbreak!
Some thing had started growing within me when she had spoken that word. It burst inside me now. My heart filled with Aparna’s thoughts. The longing, the craving, the moments, the memories and the parting. Where is Apu?
Sneha reached for my lips with hers and began sucking them. I just responded mechanically, moving my jaw. She slid her hand down my chest, across the belly into my pants. She thrust it into my undies and reached for what she was looking for.
Men too at times have the ability of surprising women. She looked at me in disbelief.
“Anay??” She asked in a horrid tone.
“Lost it!” I said.
Innocent guilt appeared on her face. She opened my pants in a scurry, pulled down my underwear and began stroking my organ to bloat it up.
“Don’t Sneha…” I stopped her. “Won’t help…”
My words froze her movements. She dolefully left moved aside and sat a feet away from me. She folded her hands and bent her head in sorrow and shame. The guilt had got over her.
Notice:
People with High Moral Stand can resume reading from this part. The Pornographic Literature ends here.
I sat there helpless staring meaninglessly at the bedsheet. I pulled up my undies like the white cloth that is pulled up a over an unidentified corpses to cover up its unpleasantness. I zipped and buttoned my pants. I looked up something met my eye.
There was a large picture of Krishna on the wall opposite to me. A Krishna standing near a cow playing his flute. He didn’t look out of the picture towards his devotee. He instead looked at something inside it. At some vague point. Somewhere on the ground or the river close by. He stared at it intensely. If he had been real, one could have seen tears gathering up in his eyes. I went closer top see if his eyes were moist. I raised my hand tried to touch his eyes. The glass kept me off from touching his eyes. But I knew that he was weeping. I moved back and sat on the bed staring at him. Sneha snuggled up besides me like a kitten, staring at the picture with me.
From where I stood I could get a clear view of the picture again. And it is from here that I realised, there is supposed to be a Radha in the picture.
Krishna was alone. The space besides him, reserved for Radha was empty. Entire picture looked sad without her. It looked unbearably gloomy. Because Krishna was without Radha.
(Contd.)
Aunty is not at home. It’s not the regular closing time. Yet the shutters are down. Sneha has the permission to pull them down whenever Aunty isn’t there. After all she is an attractive young girl in her days of bloom. And every mother of an attractive young girl in her days of bloom is worried about leaving her alone, directly exposed to millions of scanner eyes and lusty proposals. In cliché terms, keep a freshly blossomed bud within the range of countless hungry male bees.
But, even the strongest of pesticide can’t stop a king bee from entering into a flower. Larger the bee, larger the thirst. Larger the thirst, larger the fervour.
I had woken up late due to overdrinking at last night’s booze bash. I had woken up once at my usual hour. But I crashed down again realising its worthlessness. I woke up later and found it worthless again. I was about to crash again but I resisted it out of shame. I stood up. Had a wash and left for late brunch to Aunty’s. A permanent feeling of worthlessness had gripped me completely as I walked towards Aunty’s place. This wasn’t the first time I was feeling this. But this was the first time I was feeling this when I was alone. I did have people around me. But I hadn’t felt the feeling of belonging to any one of them. I was all alone in this dark hole.
All I needed was a shoulder to rest my head on. A shoulder which could soak up my dry sniffles in it. A shoulder which could comfort my ache. A shoulder which could glue me to itself.
I reached Aunty’s café. I saw Sneha alone at the counter. She had worn a crimson Ganji. Her chest open and her shoulders bare. Their glaze stood out prominently over the crimson darkness of her top. Her nipples stood out as two dark dots on her chest. The café was unusually crowded today.
I stared at them as I walked to her. I wanted to touch them. Feel their softness. To slide my fingers over their smoothness. Maybe to touch them with my lips. Or even dig my teeth into them. Lust at times, remains a male’s only way out from pain.
A stand before her looking into her eyes.
“Aunty?” I ask.
“Not at home!” She replies with a wicked look in her eyes.
“Now?” I ask.
“Afternoon” she says making a sandwich for me. She knows my taste. “She will return at night!”, she pushes the sandwich into my hands approaching to touch hers and bends over the counter to take a closer look at my face. I get a closer look of her ripening cleavage.
***
She pulls down the shutter. I enter from the back door. Her shoulders and her cleavage is on my mind since the moment she had lifted herself back to straightness.
It had filled my mind. I had not for a moment thought of Apu’s loss but instead what occupied my mind was gaining Sneha.
WARNING:
People with High Moral Stand Please Refrain from reading this part. It is an excellent example of Pornographic Literature.
The moment she closed the door, I entered into a lip lock with her. I had kissed her in a violent excitement. She returned it voraciously. I had assaulted her with my lust. And she was bathing herself in it. My hands held her by her arms tightly without letting her move. I made her walk my steps. I knew the place well. And I knew what was where. My hands reached for her shoulders and began caressing them. Her hands wrapped my shoulders and pulled me closer.
I kissed her all the way into their bedroom. I pushed her on the bed. I lay there with closed eyes awaiting my arrival. I crouched over her and kissed her fervent cleavage, about to spill out of her low neck. The softness felt by my lips urged them to explore those blooming bosoms more. I kissed her endlessly on the smooth skin of her chest. I went on kissing to the covered parts of her breast and found their peaks jutting out of the cloth over them. I kissed them gently. She twisted with a moan. Her fingers running through my hair suddenly held them tight for a moment and began caressing them again.
I trapped her between my legs and I rose to sit on my knees. I pulled off my T-Shirt and reclined over her again, this time attacking her shoulders. He bosom kept rubbing on my chest as I attempted to swallow her shoulders. One of her Ganji straps had slipped off her shoulder when I had began kissing her, revealing her gleaming shoulder and a bit oversized for a teenager breasts, which had tempted me to eat her more.
I kissed ceaselessly over the shoulder, upon the neck, down the chest and up her lovely jigs. My hand crawled upto their perfect roundness and pressed them softly. She moaned again. I pressed them again. A bit harder than the last time and she moaned louder.
I went kissing lower and kissed her belly in the gap between her Ganjis and her pyjamas. I pushed her Ganjis up and kissed delicately on her navel. She shuddered on the touch of my lips. I pushed up her top further and rubbed my cheeks on her belly. She held my hair tight pulling me upwards. I pushed her top over her hillocks carefully as if I was unwrapping a gift paper without tearing it.
Women always hold the power to surprise men. Whoever they may be. And surprise them more if they are known men. Sneha, like every other woman possessed it too. As I rolled up her Ganjis to her shoulders, a surprise struck me hard in my face. On a dark cloth suspended by two thin laces were two parts of a heart on each breast, supported by the ‘elegant’ designs that a lingerie is supposed to have. Two roughly cut parts of a bright red valentine heart. It looked like the designer or whomsoever had torn it and placed the two pieces on each of her breast. If it had been better, I could have called it ridiculous. But it was not.
She caught me staring dumbfounded at the intriguing design and said,
“Heartbreak!”
The word suddenly rang hard in my ears.
Heartbreak!
“That’s the name of the design. Heartbreak!”
It’s next utterance hit me like a blow. I remained steadfast in the position I was staring at it. Sneha, with a smart bend in her knees, slid herself down and bring her face to the level of my eyes.
“What?!...Haven’t seen a bra before?” She asked smiling with ‘gotchya!’ look on her face. She was too happy about the trick that she just played. And I was engrossed with the word she had just spoken.
I tried to shake myself out of my reverie. She wrapped me in her arms and turned me around. I freed myself from her arms and pushed myself back to sit up, reclining on the curve of their bed. I was loosing my hardness.
“Oh!...Revenge?” she said and crouched over me with new vehemence. She began kissing me from my navel and moved upwards towards my chest. In normal circumstances, this would have provoked me the most. But today it didn’t create even a slightest of tremor in me. She placed countless kisses on my chest. I sat there stoned. She took my nipples in her teeth and sucked them. But I sat numb. She took her final step. Rubbing her bosom on mine, she approached to kiss me. I felt the pieces of heart rubbing on my chest. The work reverberated once again in me. Heartbreak!
Some thing had started growing within me when she had spoken that word. It burst inside me now. My heart filled with Aparna’s thoughts. The longing, the craving, the moments, the memories and the parting. Where is Apu?
Sneha reached for my lips with hers and began sucking them. I just responded mechanically, moving my jaw. She slid her hand down my chest, across the belly into my pants. She thrust it into my undies and reached for what she was looking for.
Men too at times have the ability of surprising women. She looked at me in disbelief.
“Anay??” She asked in a horrid tone.
“Lost it!” I said.
Innocent guilt appeared on her face. She opened my pants in a scurry, pulled down my underwear and began stroking my organ to bloat it up.
“Don’t Sneha…” I stopped her. “Won’t help…”
My words froze her movements. She dolefully left moved aside and sat a feet away from me. She folded her hands and bent her head in sorrow and shame. The guilt had got over her.
Notice:
People with High Moral Stand can resume reading from this part. The Pornographic Literature ends here.
I sat there helpless staring meaninglessly at the bedsheet. I pulled up my undies like the white cloth that is pulled up a over an unidentified corpses to cover up its unpleasantness. I zipped and buttoned my pants. I looked up something met my eye.
There was a large picture of Krishna on the wall opposite to me. A Krishna standing near a cow playing his flute. He didn’t look out of the picture towards his devotee. He instead looked at something inside it. At some vague point. Somewhere on the ground or the river close by. He stared at it intensely. If he had been real, one could have seen tears gathering up in his eyes. I went closer top see if his eyes were moist. I raised my hand tried to touch his eyes. The glass kept me off from touching his eyes. But I knew that he was weeping. I moved back and sat on the bed staring at him. Sneha snuggled up besides me like a kitten, staring at the picture with me.
From where I stood I could get a clear view of the picture again. And it is from here that I realised, there is supposed to be a Radha in the picture.
Krishna was alone. The space besides him, reserved for Radha was empty. Entire picture looked sad without her. It looked unbearably gloomy. Because Krishna was without Radha.
(Contd.)
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