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“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.)
©
Saturday, September 12, 2009
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.)
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