I wrote this story for Heer and Tinni-so here goes girls.
It was the pits. Really, truly. She was stuck with the brat all day. She had tried to argue with her mother ‘Its unfair, I get one holiday in a week ‘’.Her mother sternly said ‘And you only have one nephew, so its perfectly alright to look after him for a day ‘’. With that her mother sailed out like a rather large ship, patting the obnoxious child on his curly -oh – so- sweet head. Now it was just the two of them, and the monsoons raging outside.
She tried nice ‘Would you like to play a game, carom , Uno, Chinese checkers or anything else. ’He was a bit young for Monopoly, Scrabble or anything else. He shook his head. He shook his head. ‘We cant go out, so how about a story? ’.He again shook his head ‘Mummy tells me bedtime stories. They are so silly. All about princesses, and fairies…that’s for girls ‘’She tried to smile ,while thinking ‘this MCP’. She almost smirked ‘Not that kind of a story. A scary story….but you may get very frightened ‘’.
She knew she had hooked him. He was all ears
‘ Once upon a time there lived a very good and noble little prince,’ He looked bored…..She carried on ‘ Everyone in the kingdom loved him ’He interrupted ‘Atya , I don’t want to hear this story’ She shssed him, and carried on ‘One sunny day he was taking a walk in the woods. A poor little rabbit was trapped, and was looking very sad. The good prince bent down, and undid the trap. The rabbit was free. ‘You are free , rabbit, you can go home ‘’ Suddenly there was a piercing scream.A grating, screeching voice shouted ‘Who did that ?’A tall, black figure stood there.The prince shivered.The apparition had blood red eyes,snarling teeth,bared in a grimace.His eyes drilled though the prince. ‘Are you the idiot who set her free ?A nod ‘Sorrry sir,the rabbit was in pain….’’He trailed off.
The dark man was looking very angry. ‘What rabbit? That was Morven,the most powerful witch in the world. I finally trapped her ,and you set her free..’ The conversation was interrupted by a wild cackle of purely malicious laughter. The rabbit was now a beautiful young woman, in a robe of swirling colors. ‘I escaped. You can never catch me…..’A whiff of smoke,she disappeared. The dark figure cursed ‘Now see what you have done….I have no choice ,but to take you with me ’
The prince was very scared,he didn’t know what to do…whimpered ‘You cant do that.I am the Prince of this Kingdom ‘’ The dark man growled ‘And I am the Prince of Darkness ‘’.The prince was flying through the sky,from the light to the dark,from his kingdom to he-didn’t know where.And they landed. A land of dark shadows,his nostrils were full of the reek of fire and brimstone. He wanted to be home again.But alas,that was not possible. Grey,thin figures stood around him ‘Sire,where is Morwen?And who is he ? ‘’ ‘This prince freed her….’ Sounds of lamentations.
The prince was frightened,but he was a prince. ‘What do you people want ? My father ,the King will give it you ,if you send me home…’His voice trailed off……they were not listening, they were advancing. A gust of wind shook them off their course. Morwen stood there. ‘Let the boy go.’ The dark man glared ‘How dare you enter my kingdom/? Begone witch ‘’.Morwen smiled,a wicked smile. ‘Free him.Send him back.This battle is between us.’ The grey figures were moaning ‘we are so hungry Sire ‘’.The dark figure hesitated ‘So you will become my captive if I let him go?’Morwen nodded,but a glint of anger lurked in her fiery eyes.He saw,he realized she was very clever and powerful, he didn’t trust her,he decided.
The dark man sneered ‘ A little test noble prince. I will leave you where I found you. Also before I took you, at the same time in the past.’ The prince nodded. ‘There is a condition. I leave the witch’s fate in your hands. The rabbit will be there, my prisoner….you can free it, or walk away. You , noble prince ,determine the witch’s fate….’And he laughed. Before the witch could intervene
he picked up the prince and left him where he was….. And the rabbit was still there trapped. The prince thought, he remembered, and he walked away…..
Her nephew interrupted ‘He cant do that, Morwen saved his life…..’’ She smiled ‘A coward always forgets the persons who helped him’ ‘ ‘ What happened to Morwen ? ‘’ She sighed ‘Do you really want to know?’ An assent. ‘Well they captured her,so she couldn’t save children anymore ‘’ ‘And ?’ A mysterious smile flitted on her lips ‘They succeeded. The children disappeared. So did Morwen .But the prince lived happily ever after.’
Her nephew looked very upset. ‘What a horrible prince. That was a very scary, but sad story, atya. Is it true ?’She smiled a sad smile ‘Yes Rohan, it’s a true story.’ Morwen had sacrified herself to save the ungrateful prince…..
‘Where did she disappear to? She couldn’t be dead, witches don’t die….or do they’/?’ She smiled mysteriously ‘Well, she vanished, and for a long time ,her powers left her, but she returned, ‘’ Eagerly he asked ‘ Where is she ,and what is she doing ?’ ‘Back in this world and hunting for the prince…..’ ‘Will she find him?’ Another smile ‘What do you think?’
He saw his atya’s pretty face staring oddly at him….
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, July 19, 2007
When the girls come out to play.....
Cold, bitter cold. Biting the skin cold. The wind, a knife, the night Antartic. He wondered ‘Why are we walking in this weather’. He didn’t say it. His companion wasn’t in any mood to talk. In the freezing cold she inexplicably wore a thin flowing dress, no sleeves, no stockings. She was thin to the point of emaciation, she looked like a starving child. But, she wore garish make up, deep raven kohl, amateurishly dabbed rouge, blood red lipstick, smeared, slovenly, strangely innocent. Difficult to recognize her in this get up.
She was immaculately dressed every day, with a minimum of cosmetics. He tried to talk ‘Where are we going? Its cold and dark, and..’ She shssed him imperiously. Her eyes flickered hungrily. She was looking for someone, something. He was decidedly uncomfortable. Crowds thronged the roads, she didn’t look. Just kept on walking. ‘Where were they going?’’ And why?’
No answer. They were in the thick of the city’s sleaziest district. He tightened his grip on his revolver. The perks of being part of the elite squad of the police department. It didn’t give him much joy. He thought idly ‘Wonder where she has hidden the gun?’. In those clothes, it would be tough to hide a hairclip, forget a gun.
.But he knew her reputation. Tough, harder than a bed of nails, a professional ‘killer’, the specialist. He shuddered ‘Very unpleasant, no, very dangerous.’ .He longed to be home, warm ,fed ,rested. with his family. Instead he was walking in the cold with her, hating it and cursing her. She never paused, just kept on walking. He ventured ‘Shall we stop awhile, have a coffee with a topping? Its fricking cold.”. “No, we cant risk a moments delay’, her words were icicles.
This is demented, he thought. We are walking to what destination? She hadn’t told him, just ordered him to be there. No explanations, no concern, no feelings, hardly human. They called her ‘Madame Stalin, Hitler, Saddam, Osama, the iron lady, even De Sade’, but never to her face. Too scared. Sh** bricks if she looked at them, and wet their trousers if she raised an eyebrow in a question.
She stopped. In front of a brightly lit Irani ‘beer bar’, two white men were standing. Both 40ish.both grey haired, both staring. She motioned him to ‘evaporate’ .He did. Walked away nonchantly, as if he didn’t know her, but stood behind a pillar. She knew he was there. One of the men walked to her. She transformed into a girl child, innocent, but with a degree of artifice. She played with the straps on her dress. A not quite wide eyed innocent. She knew they liked the look .these bloody m***** f******,goras.
The ‘gora’ asked ‘What’s your name ,pretty child ?’She blushed, mumbled convincingly. ‘Mary’ she whispered. He laughed. The name seemed to delight the man, he gestured to his companion ‘Mary, no less, lets take Mary into heaven, The mother of Jesus…’.His companion looked stern. ‘We are good Christians, Franz, we will take her ,help her, look after her, find a good ,moral, Catholic family to adopt her…..’.He stopped. His friend and fellow partner in crime was laughing ‘Mary, Mary…..where does your garden grow? Please show us’
She looked disconcerted. ‘Sorry sir, I don’t know what the sahib is saying..’. The kinder man took her hand ‘Lets go. I am sure you are hungry’. She beseeched with her plaintive eyes ‘Let me please the sahib first’. The ‘gora’ thought. Made up his mind, they bundled her into a taxi, and drove away. He jumped into another taxi, and said these famous movie lines ‘Follow that cab’
It stopped in front of a grey stone building ‘St.Luke’s home for Children’. All three alighted. Walked in. Rows of undernourished, brutalized, dehumanized children stared. She nearly threw up. Her years in the police and this line, stood her in good stead. The older ‘gora’ smiled ,a leering, sick smile, as disgusting as unwanted vomit, ‘Do you fancy any of these to join us, little girl’ She fidgeted, she looked coy, she smiled bashfully. And pointed at a sallow, thin 9 year old, with big, hazel eyes, and unkempt matted black hair. ‘I like him’ she stammered.
The ‘gora’ yanked him out. ‘Come ,boy, we want you’. The child stuttered, his face was white, his eyes drowned his expressions, but he followed. Better this than a caning or worse. The ‘gora’ stared unbuttoning his shirt, asking ‘What would you like to drink Mary? ACoke, a Limca?’
The reply shocked him ‘A scotch, thank you, no soda ,only ice’. He turned around. She was facing them with the gun, her eyes were deadly slits. He came in ‘You are under arrest for trafficking in minors.’ Before they could say a word, she had them in handcuffs. She smiled. A wide smile. A cruel smile. A merciless smile.’ Bastards. Scum, these are kids. Were you never a kid? And if you were would you have liked to be f*****? No, fine, then let me see how you enjoy it in jail .For there you guys will be. Even the most hardened criminals hate you filthy, dirty, sick paedophiles. And I will personally see you get the worst cell’.
One of the ‘goras’ tried to say something. She hit hard, blood dripped from his mouth.’ don’t talk to me ever, unless you want your family jewels, tawdry as they are, shot’. A hand plucked at he sleeve. The little boy ‘Thank you ,Aunty’.
Next morning, they returned the little boy, now washed, clean, fed, wearing his 6 year old son’s shorts and tee, home.
Home was a dingy one room tenement in Virar.A faded, thin young woman opened the door. Her red rimmed eyes lit up. She hugged the boy, kissed him again, and again. Finally she turned to the strangers who had brought her Raju back.’ Thank you, sahib, Madam. I was so scared since he went missing.’ He nodded.
M’aam Hitler sharply rebuked the woman’ Take better care’.
Abruptly she paused on her way out. Turning to the boy, she ruffled his hair, bent and kissed him on the cheek.’ Bye, look after yourself’. They walked away, then drove. He stole a glance at her face. Was that a tear? She noticed, put on her dark glasses.’ Lets go.’
‘’I saved him. My nephew, my brothers little boy, and his widow knew nothing.’ she thought..
A smile flickered.’ Dad, I did it. Your blood will survive’’
-Jayashree Tawadey.
She was immaculately dressed every day, with a minimum of cosmetics. He tried to talk ‘Where are we going? Its cold and dark, and..’ She shssed him imperiously. Her eyes flickered hungrily. She was looking for someone, something. He was decidedly uncomfortable. Crowds thronged the roads, she didn’t look. Just kept on walking. ‘Where were they going?’’ And why?’
No answer. They were in the thick of the city’s sleaziest district. He tightened his grip on his revolver. The perks of being part of the elite squad of the police department. It didn’t give him much joy. He thought idly ‘Wonder where she has hidden the gun?’. In those clothes, it would be tough to hide a hairclip, forget a gun.
.But he knew her reputation. Tough, harder than a bed of nails, a professional ‘killer’, the specialist. He shuddered ‘Very unpleasant, no, very dangerous.’ .He longed to be home, warm ,fed ,rested. with his family. Instead he was walking in the cold with her, hating it and cursing her. She never paused, just kept on walking. He ventured ‘Shall we stop awhile, have a coffee with a topping? Its fricking cold.”. “No, we cant risk a moments delay’, her words were icicles.
This is demented, he thought. We are walking to what destination? She hadn’t told him, just ordered him to be there. No explanations, no concern, no feelings, hardly human. They called her ‘Madame Stalin, Hitler, Saddam, Osama, the iron lady, even De Sade’, but never to her face. Too scared. Sh** bricks if she looked at them, and wet their trousers if she raised an eyebrow in a question.
She stopped. In front of a brightly lit Irani ‘beer bar’, two white men were standing. Both 40ish.both grey haired, both staring. She motioned him to ‘evaporate’ .He did. Walked away nonchantly, as if he didn’t know her, but stood behind a pillar. She knew he was there. One of the men walked to her. She transformed into a girl child, innocent, but with a degree of artifice. She played with the straps on her dress. A not quite wide eyed innocent. She knew they liked the look .these bloody m***** f******,goras.
The ‘gora’ asked ‘What’s your name ,pretty child ?’She blushed, mumbled convincingly. ‘Mary’ she whispered. He laughed. The name seemed to delight the man, he gestured to his companion ‘Mary, no less, lets take Mary into heaven, The mother of Jesus…’.His companion looked stern. ‘We are good Christians, Franz, we will take her ,help her, look after her, find a good ,moral, Catholic family to adopt her…..’.He stopped. His friend and fellow partner in crime was laughing ‘Mary, Mary…..where does your garden grow? Please show us’
She looked disconcerted. ‘Sorry sir, I don’t know what the sahib is saying..’. The kinder man took her hand ‘Lets go. I am sure you are hungry’. She beseeched with her plaintive eyes ‘Let me please the sahib first’. The ‘gora’ thought. Made up his mind, they bundled her into a taxi, and drove away. He jumped into another taxi, and said these famous movie lines ‘Follow that cab’
It stopped in front of a grey stone building ‘St.Luke’s home for Children’. All three alighted. Walked in. Rows of undernourished, brutalized, dehumanized children stared. She nearly threw up. Her years in the police and this line, stood her in good stead. The older ‘gora’ smiled ,a leering, sick smile, as disgusting as unwanted vomit, ‘Do you fancy any of these to join us, little girl’ She fidgeted, she looked coy, she smiled bashfully. And pointed at a sallow, thin 9 year old, with big, hazel eyes, and unkempt matted black hair. ‘I like him’ she stammered.
The ‘gora’ yanked him out. ‘Come ,boy, we want you’. The child stuttered, his face was white, his eyes drowned his expressions, but he followed. Better this than a caning or worse. The ‘gora’ stared unbuttoning his shirt, asking ‘What would you like to drink Mary? ACoke, a Limca?’
The reply shocked him ‘A scotch, thank you, no soda ,only ice’. He turned around. She was facing them with the gun, her eyes were deadly slits. He came in ‘You are under arrest for trafficking in minors.’ Before they could say a word, she had them in handcuffs. She smiled. A wide smile. A cruel smile. A merciless smile.’ Bastards. Scum, these are kids. Were you never a kid? And if you were would you have liked to be f*****? No, fine, then let me see how you enjoy it in jail .For there you guys will be. Even the most hardened criminals hate you filthy, dirty, sick paedophiles. And I will personally see you get the worst cell’.
One of the ‘goras’ tried to say something. She hit hard, blood dripped from his mouth.’ don’t talk to me ever, unless you want your family jewels, tawdry as they are, shot’. A hand plucked at he sleeve. The little boy ‘Thank you ,Aunty’.
Next morning, they returned the little boy, now washed, clean, fed, wearing his 6 year old son’s shorts and tee, home.
Home was a dingy one room tenement in Virar.A faded, thin young woman opened the door. Her red rimmed eyes lit up. She hugged the boy, kissed him again, and again. Finally she turned to the strangers who had brought her Raju back.’ Thank you, sahib, Madam. I was so scared since he went missing.’ He nodded.
M’aam Hitler sharply rebuked the woman’ Take better care’.
Abruptly she paused on her way out. Turning to the boy, she ruffled his hair, bent and kissed him on the cheek.’ Bye, look after yourself’. They walked away, then drove. He stole a glance at her face. Was that a tear? She noticed, put on her dark glasses.’ Lets go.’
‘’I saved him. My nephew, my brothers little boy, and his widow knew nothing.’ she thought..
A smile flickered.’ Dad, I did it. Your blood will survive’’
-Jayashree Tawadey.
Friday, May 25, 2007
A matter of taste!
I was in Goa a while ago-the land of sea,sand,sussegado.Relaxing on the beach,sipping wine ,watching the waves singing their song.It was sheer serendipity!And then I thought of writing a story....this one:
''Another time ,another place, but not the same familiar faces. She was on an assignment in Goa. The tourists paradise, the ideal holiday, serendipity and fun. Her instructions …blend ,be one of the tourists, nothing cop like. She understood, wearing shorts ,a colorful tee, floppy hat ,dark glares ,she blended. She was in the market place. Hordes of people, a street band playing loudly, swarms thronging, laughing , drinking, eating ,dancing, merriment galore. Her Brahmin soul was a bit aghast, but she was here for a purpose, her duty was paramount. Her assignment : Foreign tourists were disappearing ,no trace ,no clues ,no reasons, she had to get to the motive ,the reasons, the method ,and the culprits. Now she had no clue ,she stared at the crowds cluelessly.
She walked to a small roadside café ,perched herself to observe. A voice, a deep baritone ,velvety voice asked ‘May I join you ?’ Her eyes moved to the possessor of the voice. Tall , dark handsome. Denim cut offs ,a faded blue shirt ,a floppy straw hat, a dazzling smile. She smiled a yes. He sat down, made himself comfortable. He asked ‘May I get you a feni?’ She smiled, she shook her head ,she declined ‘I don’t care too much for their drinks, I am having a coffee.’. At that he smiled ‘Nor do I.’ He extended his hand ‘Hi, I am Mike De’ Cunha. ‘’ She shook his proffered hand ,and replied ‘ Julia Mancini, pleased to meet you. Are you from Goa, that’s a very Goan name.’ He blushed, rather strangely ‘Is it ?I thought it was Spanish.’ She was confused ,she was too polite to pry, she kept quiet. She ordered two beers ,after asking him, and getting a smile in return. She took a largish sip, or rather a swig. Oddly he did the same, she decided he was a foreigner.
This was not her beat ,but it was still her country ‘Are you on vacation ?’ she asked. ‘Well ,sort of ,more a foray….’Amazed she wondered was he man right in his head, who came to Goa for a foray. This was the land for revelers, partygoers, the rich and the dregs of society, the perverts ,the druggies ,the musicians, the ‘wannabees’, and the genuine holiday goers who thronged for the package tours. She remained silent ,sipped her beer ,observing the crowds. She decided to meet the local police chief later. A couple was approaching, very ‘rich, very South Bombay ,very high’. They came closer ‘Got any good stuff dude? We know you keep it ‘’ Mike transformed. Mike became a smooth wheeler dealer , his eyes were predatory ,his gestures abject, his actions repulsive. ‘Please come with me’ All three were back in seconds ,the couple left after something changed hands. She got up abruptly ‘Are you a drug dealer ?’ Mike laughed ‘Of course not ,are you ?’ She shook her head ‘Of course not. I am here on business.’ Mike smiled ‘So am I ‘’.
His easygoing charm was hard to resist, and she didn’t. They chatted, heard music, drank their beers ,relaxed ,he had a lazy charm ,it soothed her. But not enough for her to forget her reasons to be here. Mike smiled, ‘Where are you from ? ‘’.She almost answered. She didn’t. Another couple was approaching, fair skinned ,barely clad, eyes vacant , they spoke to Mike ‘You got stuff man? We were told you do. ‘’. Mike smiled ,nodded, took them away. He returned alone. ‘I ‘ve got them’ he said gleefully. She didn’t reply, she couldn’t, she had no idea what he was talking about, she waited. She wasn’t one of the best cops in the force for no reason. She waited in silence, she sniffed a kind of danger.
Mike smiled. Another man was coming, small, stout ,sullen. He stopped at their table, Mike introduced them ‘Leo, this is Julia, she is one of us, Julia ,Leo.’ The small ,fat man stared ‘Why are you here ? And for what purpose ?Where are you from, which planet ?’ She stared, Mike answered ‘Leo, that’s no way to talk to a lady. She is one of us, she is here to get something, just like us’ Leo wasn’t appeased ‘Answer me.’ Something was very wrong, Julia sensed it ,these weren’t ordinary tourists ,they weren’t ordinary ,and she realized something was very wrong .She smiled, out of her depth, but acting ‘Hey Leo, you are here on business ,so am I. What’s yours ?’
The small, fat man smirked ‘Just to collect my cargo’ She smiled innocently ‘Cargo, of course. Is it ready ? ‘’.Leo smirked ‘What is yours? ‘’ Mike interrupted ‘ Its sand. They need it to survive. OK? Now take your cargo and leave, I will follow soon ‘’ Leo seemed satisfied, with no more questions ,he said his farewell, left. She turned to Mike ‘What was that about ?’ He was silent ‘You don’t want to know …’. ‘I do. What planet ,what cargo, what was that gibberish ?’ Mike smiled ‘We are aliens. I have assumed the form of a human, I am not one. I am a tracker and hunter, its my business. I come here to collect cargo, Leo delivers it. I thought you were also an alien like us…..’ She jerked as if someone pulled imaginary strings ‘Aliens! Ridiculous! And if so, what are you collecting here ?’ Mike got up, smiled ,tipped his hat, waved a goodbye. Julia insisted ‘Answer me, what were you collecting ? ‘’Mike said ,a bit sadly, a bit apprehensively ‘Meat. The whiter ,the better’’ …… Somewhere her mind registered ‘That’s why the foreigners are disappearing…….’Mike had gone.
-Jayashree Tawadey.
''Another time ,another place, but not the same familiar faces. She was on an assignment in Goa. The tourists paradise, the ideal holiday, serendipity and fun. Her instructions …blend ,be one of the tourists, nothing cop like. She understood, wearing shorts ,a colorful tee, floppy hat ,dark glares ,she blended. She was in the market place. Hordes of people, a street band playing loudly, swarms thronging, laughing , drinking, eating ,dancing, merriment galore. Her Brahmin soul was a bit aghast, but she was here for a purpose, her duty was paramount. Her assignment : Foreign tourists were disappearing ,no trace ,no clues ,no reasons, she had to get to the motive ,the reasons, the method ,and the culprits. Now she had no clue ,she stared at the crowds cluelessly.
She walked to a small roadside café ,perched herself to observe. A voice, a deep baritone ,velvety voice asked ‘May I join you ?’ Her eyes moved to the possessor of the voice. Tall , dark handsome. Denim cut offs ,a faded blue shirt ,a floppy straw hat, a dazzling smile. She smiled a yes. He sat down, made himself comfortable. He asked ‘May I get you a feni?’ She smiled, she shook her head ,she declined ‘I don’t care too much for their drinks, I am having a coffee.’. At that he smiled ‘Nor do I.’ He extended his hand ‘Hi, I am Mike De’ Cunha. ‘’ She shook his proffered hand ,and replied ‘ Julia Mancini, pleased to meet you. Are you from Goa, that’s a very Goan name.’ He blushed, rather strangely ‘Is it ?I thought it was Spanish.’ She was confused ,she was too polite to pry, she kept quiet. She ordered two beers ,after asking him, and getting a smile in return. She took a largish sip, or rather a swig. Oddly he did the same, she decided he was a foreigner.
This was not her beat ,but it was still her country ‘Are you on vacation ?’ she asked. ‘Well ,sort of ,more a foray….’Amazed she wondered was he man right in his head, who came to Goa for a foray. This was the land for revelers, partygoers, the rich and the dregs of society, the perverts ,the druggies ,the musicians, the ‘wannabees’, and the genuine holiday goers who thronged for the package tours. She remained silent ,sipped her beer ,observing the crowds. She decided to meet the local police chief later. A couple was approaching, very ‘rich, very South Bombay ,very high’. They came closer ‘Got any good stuff dude? We know you keep it ‘’ Mike transformed. Mike became a smooth wheeler dealer , his eyes were predatory ,his gestures abject, his actions repulsive. ‘Please come with me’ All three were back in seconds ,the couple left after something changed hands. She got up abruptly ‘Are you a drug dealer ?’ Mike laughed ‘Of course not ,are you ?’ She shook her head ‘Of course not. I am here on business.’ Mike smiled ‘So am I ‘’.
His easygoing charm was hard to resist, and she didn’t. They chatted, heard music, drank their beers ,relaxed ,he had a lazy charm ,it soothed her. But not enough for her to forget her reasons to be here. Mike smiled, ‘Where are you from ? ‘’.She almost answered. She didn’t. Another couple was approaching, fair skinned ,barely clad, eyes vacant , they spoke to Mike ‘You got stuff man? We were told you do. ‘’. Mike smiled ,nodded, took them away. He returned alone. ‘I ‘ve got them’ he said gleefully. She didn’t reply, she couldn’t, she had no idea what he was talking about, she waited. She wasn’t one of the best cops in the force for no reason. She waited in silence, she sniffed a kind of danger.
Mike smiled. Another man was coming, small, stout ,sullen. He stopped at their table, Mike introduced them ‘Leo, this is Julia, she is one of us, Julia ,Leo.’ The small ,fat man stared ‘Why are you here ? And for what purpose ?Where are you from, which planet ?’ She stared, Mike answered ‘Leo, that’s no way to talk to a lady. She is one of us, she is here to get something, just like us’ Leo wasn’t appeased ‘Answer me.’ Something was very wrong, Julia sensed it ,these weren’t ordinary tourists ,they weren’t ordinary ,and she realized something was very wrong .She smiled, out of her depth, but acting ‘Hey Leo, you are here on business ,so am I. What’s yours ?’
The small, fat man smirked ‘Just to collect my cargo’ She smiled innocently ‘Cargo, of course. Is it ready ? ‘’.Leo smirked ‘What is yours? ‘’ Mike interrupted ‘ Its sand. They need it to survive. OK? Now take your cargo and leave, I will follow soon ‘’ Leo seemed satisfied, with no more questions ,he said his farewell, left. She turned to Mike ‘What was that about ?’ He was silent ‘You don’t want to know …’. ‘I do. What planet ,what cargo, what was that gibberish ?’ Mike smiled ‘We are aliens. I have assumed the form of a human, I am not one. I am a tracker and hunter, its my business. I come here to collect cargo, Leo delivers it. I thought you were also an alien like us…..’ She jerked as if someone pulled imaginary strings ‘Aliens! Ridiculous! And if so, what are you collecting here ?’ Mike got up, smiled ,tipped his hat, waved a goodbye. Julia insisted ‘Answer me, what were you collecting ? ‘’Mike said ,a bit sadly, a bit apprehensively ‘Meat. The whiter ,the better’’ …… Somewhere her mind registered ‘That’s why the foreigners are disappearing…….’Mike had gone.
-Jayashree Tawadey.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
A short story.
He sent flowers every day. Different colours, varied bouquets, a medley of scents. And with each, came an elegantly crafted note written in a graceful flowing letters ,on exquisite onionskin paper. The sun shone, the rains poured, a nip of winter cut her, but the flowers were always there. Her Spartan office was transformed. She wondered.
The perfect gentleman, from his neatly gelled hair to his polished shoes, he was a throwback to a more chivalrous age. She paused in her thoughts. What more could she want. Well read, handsome, intelligent, witty, and also the scion of a business empire. Her rebel soul scoffed her “ Wouldn’t they all be happy? Ma and Baba? Their twenty sixish daughter settling down.” Her honest soul wondered.
When she had first met him, at a legal meeting, his eyes had never strayed from her face. Her seniors droned on about the details of a mega merger, she said nothing. His eyes blazed patches of rose on her cheeks. He called soon, very soon, too soon. Asking her to join him for dinner, the theatre, the races, a walk, a drink, a coffee. She turned him down .Now she was running out of excuses.
Abruptly she turned to the smoked glass in her cabin. She saw a slim, attractive woman, with short dark hair, and a slightly forbidding look. She wondered once again “Why me?” Redundant question. She knew the answer. She was pretty, and she didn’t like it. Brains were her weapons, not beauty. But she had been cursed with both.
The insistent stupid tune on her mobile played on. She saw his name flashing. She almost didn’t answer, but her good manners won. A tentative ‘ Dixit.” She could sense his smile, the dimples curving into his skin. “Hello, Ms. Dixit, How are you ?’ She flinched ,such formality, and his flowers mocked her. “Fine. And you?” He chuckled , “As always I am calling to ask you to have a drink with me, or whatever else you want to do?’ Silence. In her chaotic mind, she searched for a new excuse. She heard his warm throaty voice laced with a smile ‘Are you thinking of a new excuse?” Momentarily taken aback, she fumbled for the right words. ‘No.’ Tentatively she stammered ‘Why don’t you come over to my place for a drink” The words were out, she had no control over them. He laughed ‘Our first date, and you call me home? Thank you. I will be at your place around seven. Is that fine” She mumbled “Yes”.
And that was the beginning of many a meeting. They talked, endlessly, he was a delight to be with. He amused her, taught her like a benevolent teacher, they heard music, saw old movies, ate greedily like two children, laughed, that’s all. She would never permit any intimacy ,and he was too much of a gentleman to ever push her. She realized she was falling in love. She hated herself for hating the thought. She carried on an endless debate with herself ‘I am a non judgmental person, so why” Her brain replied with echoes. She knew she had to decide some day. She procrastinated. “I am enjoying his company, let decisions be” How long could this season of sheer joy last?
Not very long. Her mother called. Yet another boy\man to meet. She argued “Ma, I am doing very well in my career. I have no interest in marriage” Her mothers resigned sigh “ But how can I rest until you are settled” She answered a bit more curtly than usual “ Ma, I earn more than Deep, he isn’t married, so why push me” The sigh again “ You are my daughter, that’s why” She terminated the call abruptly. She pondered.
And her mobile sang a silly tune again. It was him. “I want to meet you tonight. Its important. Can I take you out for dinner?” She drew a long breath. ‘Tonight I have to visit my parents. Another boy to see” She heard his deep intake of breath “Please meet me before you go anywhere, Its very important to me” She heard the love in his voice, and she knew that she felt it too. But she was a coward. She kicked herself mentally, but to no avail. “ Fine, come over early sevenish.” His profuse thanks made her cringe.
And now it was seven. She was all dressed up, saree, kajal, the works. He came in with a long bouquet of white tube roses, intermingled with three red roses. He wasted no time “I want to marry you. I love you. I have never loved anyone so very much. Please say yes” She stared a long time at him. Down at him. She smiled a sweet sad loving, but cruel smile ‘I am sorry. I cant marry you. Please leave. Thank you for the flowers, the music, the fun, but’ He smiled sadly “I understand. I will go. Thank you for every minute of joy I had ‘ He turned to leave, and looked at her ‘I thought you were different. I believed in you. I love you. Goodbye” He walked away. She stood transfixed .Soon she saw his four feet, four inches body disappear into the shadows of the night.
The perfect gentleman, from his neatly gelled hair to his polished shoes, he was a throwback to a more chivalrous age. She paused in her thoughts. What more could she want. Well read, handsome, intelligent, witty, and also the scion of a business empire. Her rebel soul scoffed her “ Wouldn’t they all be happy? Ma and Baba? Their twenty sixish daughter settling down.” Her honest soul wondered.
When she had first met him, at a legal meeting, his eyes had never strayed from her face. Her seniors droned on about the details of a mega merger, she said nothing. His eyes blazed patches of rose on her cheeks. He called soon, very soon, too soon. Asking her to join him for dinner, the theatre, the races, a walk, a drink, a coffee. She turned him down .Now she was running out of excuses.
Abruptly she turned to the smoked glass in her cabin. She saw a slim, attractive woman, with short dark hair, and a slightly forbidding look. She wondered once again “Why me?” Redundant question. She knew the answer. She was pretty, and she didn’t like it. Brains were her weapons, not beauty. But she had been cursed with both.
The insistent stupid tune on her mobile played on. She saw his name flashing. She almost didn’t answer, but her good manners won. A tentative ‘ Dixit.” She could sense his smile, the dimples curving into his skin. “Hello, Ms. Dixit, How are you ?’ She flinched ,such formality, and his flowers mocked her. “Fine. And you?” He chuckled , “As always I am calling to ask you to have a drink with me, or whatever else you want to do?’ Silence. In her chaotic mind, she searched for a new excuse. She heard his warm throaty voice laced with a smile ‘Are you thinking of a new excuse?” Momentarily taken aback, she fumbled for the right words. ‘No.’ Tentatively she stammered ‘Why don’t you come over to my place for a drink” The words were out, she had no control over them. He laughed ‘Our first date, and you call me home? Thank you. I will be at your place around seven. Is that fine” She mumbled “Yes”.
And that was the beginning of many a meeting. They talked, endlessly, he was a delight to be with. He amused her, taught her like a benevolent teacher, they heard music, saw old movies, ate greedily like two children, laughed, that’s all. She would never permit any intimacy ,and he was too much of a gentleman to ever push her. She realized she was falling in love. She hated herself for hating the thought. She carried on an endless debate with herself ‘I am a non judgmental person, so why” Her brain replied with echoes. She knew she had to decide some day. She procrastinated. “I am enjoying his company, let decisions be” How long could this season of sheer joy last?
Not very long. Her mother called. Yet another boy\man to meet. She argued “Ma, I am doing very well in my career. I have no interest in marriage” Her mothers resigned sigh “ But how can I rest until you are settled” She answered a bit more curtly than usual “ Ma, I earn more than Deep, he isn’t married, so why push me” The sigh again “ You are my daughter, that’s why” She terminated the call abruptly. She pondered.
And her mobile sang a silly tune again. It was him. “I want to meet you tonight. Its important. Can I take you out for dinner?” She drew a long breath. ‘Tonight I have to visit my parents. Another boy to see” She heard his deep intake of breath “Please meet me before you go anywhere, Its very important to me” She heard the love in his voice, and she knew that she felt it too. But she was a coward. She kicked herself mentally, but to no avail. “ Fine, come over early sevenish.” His profuse thanks made her cringe.
And now it was seven. She was all dressed up, saree, kajal, the works. He came in with a long bouquet of white tube roses, intermingled with three red roses. He wasted no time “I want to marry you. I love you. I have never loved anyone so very much. Please say yes” She stared a long time at him. Down at him. She smiled a sweet sad loving, but cruel smile ‘I am sorry. I cant marry you. Please leave. Thank you for the flowers, the music, the fun, but’ He smiled sadly “I understand. I will go. Thank you for every minute of joy I had ‘ He turned to leave, and looked at her ‘I thought you were different. I believed in you. I love you. Goodbye” He walked away. She stood transfixed .Soon she saw his four feet, four inches body disappear into the shadows of the night.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Summerwine.
Here I go.Another story!!
''She was angry ,confused, frustrated. The spate of murders was bizarre. And inexplicable. She paced up and down in the room, her brows knitted ,no answers. It was very strange. This wasn’t helping, she called for a van, her assistant she had to do something ,anything. The van, the man were both there within minutes. She got in ,took the wheel and drove to the city’s poshest area…the murders had taken place there. It was quiet ,green ,luxurious, sleek cars drove silently. A sprinkling of people were taking their evening walks, it was an oasis of rich peace. A very unlikely place for a murder.
She debated on her course of action, and she decided. She would visit the home of the latest victim, maybe she would get a clue. She rang the ornate bell, the door swung open , a young boy stood there. ‘Hello, are your parents at home /?’.He asked ‘Are you from the press?’ ‘No, the police. I would like to speak with them’ A man ,fat ,wearing kurta pajamas ,bloodshed eyes walked in ‘ We have nothing more to say. Our daughter is dead. You people have asked enough questions, taken our statements, what is left to add? Please go away’ She turned on her charm ‘I am Simran Singh, S.P, the case has been given to my dept. I just need some information. A few details. I will not disturb you Sir, its just that we are getting no clues. Seven girls murdered ,no weapons, no injuries ,no reasons. If you could help….’
She stopped abruptly ,the man was coming to her brandishing a pen. He reached her ,waved the pen ,and rather hurtfully marked two red dots on her neck ‘That’s all, nothing more, now for Gods sake go’ He almost slammed the door in her face. She left . Red marks. The report hadn’t mentioned that, or had she overlooked it?. She told the driver and her assistant to leave ,they quite happily did, she drove to a tiny café. Ordered a coffee, waited.
Simran remembered the red marks from a long time ago. From her childhood. Her father ,her uncle, the constant changes of towns and homes, schools. Her mothers frightened face, her fathers sullen one. Their arguments. ‘Why cant you accept the truth Kitty? We are like this. We cant change ever.’ Kitty ,her pretty ,petite mother crying softly ‘But I love you. We have a child, you must try, for her sake at least.’ A few extended periods of peace ,till her uncle turned up. Then the fights again. Uncle Sevvy saying ‘Come on Kitty, this is stupid. No one is forcing you. Let us be’ Kitty’s refusals, arguments ‘Its bad for the child. ’Sevvys’ cruel laugh ‘Don’t be stupid. Its in her blood, she is one of us. How long can you deny that’ Kitty’s refusal to accept, and then her untimely death. Yes, she remembered. Simran lived with her father for five more years, then he disappeared, and she went to live with her maternal grandparents. A nice ,normal ,comfortable life. She finished university and joined the police. Now she was a high ranking official.
She knew he would come ,he did. He sat down ,lit a cheroot, asked ‘Hi Simi. What do you think you are doing?’ She didn’t reply. She waited. He also stubbornly waited. His cheroot fogged the small café. Finally she asked ‘ What’s going on? I thought I would never see you again’ He waved his cheroot ‘What is the problem? I am your uncle, ….why are you angry?’ She smiled sarcastically ‘ My uncle ? You killed my mother, just get out. And what are you doing here/?’ He smiled ‘I never killed Kitty, you know that….’She lost her temper suddenly ,violently ‘Get out before I arrest you..’ She choked on the last words. He sneered ‘Arrest me? For what? I didn’t kill those girls..’
Simran left in a towering rage. She drove home ,she poured a glass of red wine for herself. She chain smoked ‘Liar, he killed all those innocents. I hate him. I hate them all.’ She sobbed ‘I hate myself too…’ Night shadows were falling, Simran had to go, she had to kill, she needed the drink…..the vampire left. And the vampire killed, it needed to quench its thirst. And the vampire would forget about it in the morning….Or rather it would remember ,but prefer forgetfulness….she hated the vampire , it was in her blood, her ancestry, she had to live with it, it was her…she killed the girls, and she chose to forget. It was better that way….
''She was angry ,confused, frustrated. The spate of murders was bizarre. And inexplicable. She paced up and down in the room, her brows knitted ,no answers. It was very strange. This wasn’t helping, she called for a van, her assistant she had to do something ,anything. The van, the man were both there within minutes. She got in ,took the wheel and drove to the city’s poshest area…the murders had taken place there. It was quiet ,green ,luxurious, sleek cars drove silently. A sprinkling of people were taking their evening walks, it was an oasis of rich peace. A very unlikely place for a murder.
She debated on her course of action, and she decided. She would visit the home of the latest victim, maybe she would get a clue. She rang the ornate bell, the door swung open , a young boy stood there. ‘Hello, are your parents at home /?’.He asked ‘Are you from the press?’ ‘No, the police. I would like to speak with them’ A man ,fat ,wearing kurta pajamas ,bloodshed eyes walked in ‘ We have nothing more to say. Our daughter is dead. You people have asked enough questions, taken our statements, what is left to add? Please go away’ She turned on her charm ‘I am Simran Singh, S.P, the case has been given to my dept. I just need some information. A few details. I will not disturb you Sir, its just that we are getting no clues. Seven girls murdered ,no weapons, no injuries ,no reasons. If you could help….’
She stopped abruptly ,the man was coming to her brandishing a pen. He reached her ,waved the pen ,and rather hurtfully marked two red dots on her neck ‘That’s all, nothing more, now for Gods sake go’ He almost slammed the door in her face. She left . Red marks. The report hadn’t mentioned that, or had she overlooked it?. She told the driver and her assistant to leave ,they quite happily did, she drove to a tiny café. Ordered a coffee, waited.
Simran remembered the red marks from a long time ago. From her childhood. Her father ,her uncle, the constant changes of towns and homes, schools. Her mothers frightened face, her fathers sullen one. Their arguments. ‘Why cant you accept the truth Kitty? We are like this. We cant change ever.’ Kitty ,her pretty ,petite mother crying softly ‘But I love you. We have a child, you must try, for her sake at least.’ A few extended periods of peace ,till her uncle turned up. Then the fights again. Uncle Sevvy saying ‘Come on Kitty, this is stupid. No one is forcing you. Let us be’ Kitty’s refusals, arguments ‘Its bad for the child. ’Sevvys’ cruel laugh ‘Don’t be stupid. Its in her blood, she is one of us. How long can you deny that’ Kitty’s refusal to accept, and then her untimely death. Yes, she remembered. Simran lived with her father for five more years, then he disappeared, and she went to live with her maternal grandparents. A nice ,normal ,comfortable life. She finished university and joined the police. Now she was a high ranking official.
She knew he would come ,he did. He sat down ,lit a cheroot, asked ‘Hi Simi. What do you think you are doing?’ She didn’t reply. She waited. He also stubbornly waited. His cheroot fogged the small café. Finally she asked ‘ What’s going on? I thought I would never see you again’ He waved his cheroot ‘What is the problem? I am your uncle, ….why are you angry?’ She smiled sarcastically ‘ My uncle ? You killed my mother, just get out. And what are you doing here/?’ He smiled ‘I never killed Kitty, you know that….’She lost her temper suddenly ,violently ‘Get out before I arrest you..’ She choked on the last words. He sneered ‘Arrest me? For what? I didn’t kill those girls..’
Simran left in a towering rage. She drove home ,she poured a glass of red wine for herself. She chain smoked ‘Liar, he killed all those innocents. I hate him. I hate them all.’ She sobbed ‘I hate myself too…’ Night shadows were falling, Simran had to go, she had to kill, she needed the drink…..the vampire left. And the vampire killed, it needed to quench its thirst. And the vampire would forget about it in the morning….Or rather it would remember ,but prefer forgetfulness….she hated the vampire , it was in her blood, her ancestry, she had to live with it, it was her…she killed the girls, and she chose to forget. It was better that way….
Saturday, March 31, 2007
The day!!
I remember that pain streaked day almost two years ago so well. I sat on a wooden bench in a hospital, staring vacantly at the bile green walls. For the first and last time in my life, my mind was vacant, no thoughts, no nothing ,just a vast emptiness. For how long I sat I don’t know…After days, agonizing days of CT scans, biopsies, visits to several doctors, I had reached here. My destination. The doctor had a kind face, I asked her tentatively, excepting an evasive reply, like the others’ What’s my prognosis?’ She was direct ‘Can you handle it “”.I nodded[thinking ‘anything is better than not knowing’.]. ‘After, or despite the treatment you have about two more years to live. ’.I thanked her, shook hands, and walked out of her clinic, I didn’t answer my family’s questions…they were filling forms ….I walked in a daze. And sat on a bench ,in a void...
I couldn’t sit here anymore, it was getting claustrophobic. I walked out of the hospital ,leaned against the wall outside. I lit a cigarette and smiled. We all know we are dying one day, but to be told ‘two years more’ was surreal. I decided in a flash what would be my decision. And I told my family and friends. They heard me in horrified silence. ‘No expensive treatment’ They argued, cried, begged, cajoled ,to no avail, my mind was made up. I also decided to rid myself of the other cancers in my life….if I had to fight a battle, I would do it without any excess baggage.
So ,I left the house I lived in for 25 years, and a ‘marriage’ of over 30 years…a marriage that was but a travesty, the soul and heart long gone ,if ever there. I had been dutiful for long, but no more. I left familiarity, and embraced a new world, life, another home. I would fight my battle with my enemies in my body, with as much zeal and courage ,as my ancestress Rani Laxmibai had fought the angrez armies. I did, I am alive today. And writing…maybe one day I will write about my battle, not for survival, but for life.
I couldn’t sit here anymore, it was getting claustrophobic. I walked out of the hospital ,leaned against the wall outside. I lit a cigarette and smiled. We all know we are dying one day, but to be told ‘two years more’ was surreal. I decided in a flash what would be my decision. And I told my family and friends. They heard me in horrified silence. ‘No expensive treatment’ They argued, cried, begged, cajoled ,to no avail, my mind was made up. I also decided to rid myself of the other cancers in my life….if I had to fight a battle, I would do it without any excess baggage.
So ,I left the house I lived in for 25 years, and a ‘marriage’ of over 30 years…a marriage that was but a travesty, the soul and heart long gone ,if ever there. I had been dutiful for long, but no more. I left familiarity, and embraced a new world, life, another home. I would fight my battle with my enemies in my body, with as much zeal and courage ,as my ancestress Rani Laxmibai had fought the angrez armies. I did, I am alive today. And writing…maybe one day I will write about my battle, not for survival, but for life.
Monday, March 26, 2007
About a boy.
Another one.This one is for Sanju.Thanks.
''It was the hands .Long, slender hands .An artists hands .But they held hers with a deceptive strength. She stared at the intertwined hands .One pair slim, young ,soft, gentle ,the other bony, knuckled, hard. She dared not look up. If she did, would drown in the grey blue seas of his eyes. The soft ,clear depths of his eyes had undercurrents that swallowed her.
She sat, lost in the moment. Holding hands. Childish, but oh so sweet. He stroked her hands, she moved her eyes. She looked at him. His young boyish face smiled at her. “Please come with me” his velvety voice was a caress. A tiny smile touched her lips. “To eat gelato?’ “ We will walk ,talk, eat gelatos, and whatever else you want” Inwardly she almost laughed. Anything I want. Now that was impossible. She got up abruptly. “Fine, lets go. I ‘ll get the car” He touched her softly, reverentially “Lets walk instead”.
She nodded assent. These old bones can still walk. Walking ,talking, the wind in her hair, the setting sun in her eyes. She wanted to hold the moment, never let it go. She could not. ‘Lets walk down to the sea” She demurred “The rocks are slippery with rain, I may fall” He softly answered “No, I will not let you fall.” She wondered “Where was he all my life ?I meet him now, when I am old and brown”. A mirthless chuckle escaped from her. He never asked why. It was as if he knew.
They touched the sea. She took of her chappals, and took a tentative step in the water. She recoiled in distaste. Her feet had touched a piece of unmentionable garbage. He saw her expression. Tenderly, he bent down, with his handkerchief , he gently cleaned her feet. “Lets go back. Our gelatos are waiting” They walked up to the dark road, and to ‘Amore” “That means love, doesn’t it ?”Yes” He sighed deeply “Isn’t it wonderful to be in love ‘’.She didn’t answer. They ate gelatos. The sun had set, the skies darkened, monsoon clouds waited in the wings for their act. ‘Lets go home, its going to rain” He agreed.
They walked back. The clouds moved in to scene. This was their moment. Pent up emotional clouds broke down, their streams of water flowed in torrents. He held her close ,sheltering under the awning of a café. She shivered in his arms. He mistook her desire. He thought she was cold. He tightened his grip on her. For one wild moment she thought ‘I am going to blow it. I am going to kiss him ‘’.She didn’t. They reached home.
‘Dry yourself,and change your clothes” he said.She nodded “You too” He smiled shyly ‘I have no clothes.Can I borrow his clothes “’? She nodded assent. She changed.He changed.
And they sat back sipping their cognac enriched coffee. “When will he be home “’.’Soon ‘’.And she thought ‘my son will be home in a few minutes.And he will be in his lovers arms’’
This boy whom I spent my afternoon with, whose hands, lips, eyes drown me in a maelstrom of passion ,is my son’s lover .
Guilt should have consumed her,pain did.''
''It was the hands .Long, slender hands .An artists hands .But they held hers with a deceptive strength. She stared at the intertwined hands .One pair slim, young ,soft, gentle ,the other bony, knuckled, hard. She dared not look up. If she did, would drown in the grey blue seas of his eyes. The soft ,clear depths of his eyes had undercurrents that swallowed her.
She sat, lost in the moment. Holding hands. Childish, but oh so sweet. He stroked her hands, she moved her eyes. She looked at him. His young boyish face smiled at her. “Please come with me” his velvety voice was a caress. A tiny smile touched her lips. “To eat gelato?’ “ We will walk ,talk, eat gelatos, and whatever else you want” Inwardly she almost laughed. Anything I want. Now that was impossible. She got up abruptly. “Fine, lets go. I ‘ll get the car” He touched her softly, reverentially “Lets walk instead”.
She nodded assent. These old bones can still walk. Walking ,talking, the wind in her hair, the setting sun in her eyes. She wanted to hold the moment, never let it go. She could not. ‘Lets walk down to the sea” She demurred “The rocks are slippery with rain, I may fall” He softly answered “No, I will not let you fall.” She wondered “Where was he all my life ?I meet him now, when I am old and brown”. A mirthless chuckle escaped from her. He never asked why. It was as if he knew.
They touched the sea. She took of her chappals, and took a tentative step in the water. She recoiled in distaste. Her feet had touched a piece of unmentionable garbage. He saw her expression. Tenderly, he bent down, with his handkerchief , he gently cleaned her feet. “Lets go back. Our gelatos are waiting” They walked up to the dark road, and to ‘Amore” “That means love, doesn’t it ?”Yes” He sighed deeply “Isn’t it wonderful to be in love ‘’.She didn’t answer. They ate gelatos. The sun had set, the skies darkened, monsoon clouds waited in the wings for their act. ‘Lets go home, its going to rain” He agreed.
They walked back. The clouds moved in to scene. This was their moment. Pent up emotional clouds broke down, their streams of water flowed in torrents. He held her close ,sheltering under the awning of a café. She shivered in his arms. He mistook her desire. He thought she was cold. He tightened his grip on her. For one wild moment she thought ‘I am going to blow it. I am going to kiss him ‘’.She didn’t. They reached home.
‘Dry yourself,and change your clothes” he said.She nodded “You too” He smiled shyly ‘I have no clothes.Can I borrow his clothes “’? She nodded assent. She changed.He changed.
And they sat back sipping their cognac enriched coffee. “When will he be home “’.’Soon ‘’.And she thought ‘my son will be home in a few minutes.And he will be in his lovers arms’’
This boy whom I spent my afternoon with, whose hands, lips, eyes drown me in a maelstrom of passion ,is my son’s lover .
Guilt should have consumed her,pain did.''
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