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.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
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.''
The Fallen
People ask me ‘Don’t you feel lonely’, and I say ‘I am not lonely, just alone, and I revel in solitude.’ .They raise their eyebrows, thinking, no doubt, ‘she is lying,poor thing.Its sad.Alone, sick, living in a small flat after the ‘castle by the sea’, the servants, cars…of course she misses it.’ And they smile condescendingly. The truth is I am happy here, I’m free, ---that was no castle, for me, it was a dungeon. I spin my yarns….
''It had started on a high note, ‘finally I have my space ’to ‘love being independent to do my own thing’ and slowly traversed a rocky road from solitude ,to being alone, to a numbing, silent loneliness. A loneliness that crashed around her ,followed her ,waited for at the end of the day like a bored lover. She walked through deeply wooded uneven lanes, uncertain ,with no destination ,no plansShe muttered to herself ‘A wandering minstrel ,I,A thing of rags and patches’, and she smiled wryly and a bit angrily at this sort of ‘self pity’. She walked silently, hands tucked in her jacket, she whistled tunelessly. A high profile career ,a broken marriage, the ups and downs of life….Her days were jammed with meetings ,clients ,work, endless cups of coffee, a string of cigarettes, and a stream of people. She never socialized ,unless it was for work, she lived alone , she suffered alone ,her work never suffered, her heart and soul did. She wondered ‘ He left me because he felt I was too cold ,career minded, independent , odd he married me for virtually the same reasons ,besides the word ‘cold’. She sat down on a tree stump, lit her umpteenth cigarette, and wondered ‘why’.She never noticed the man sitting next to her ,until he spoke ‘ Don’t be so sad, he wasn’t worth it’. She jerked ‘Excuse me?’ The tall ,dark ,handsome , ‘Mills and Boon’ character smiled ,dimpled ,dazzled with his pristine teeth, and twinkled with his deep blue eyes. She was neither impressed or amused. She waited for an explanation, none was forthcoming ,she waited. Patience was one of her virtues ,but not a strong one. He tipped an imaginary hat ‘Hello, my name is Lucas Shaw, pleased to finally meet you ,Ms.Kaul’ She stared at his proffered hand ,shrugged ,said ‘Finally meet me?’ Lucas smiled ‘After all the business we have done with your company..’ he trailed off. She understood, she knew who he was ,she quickly made amends ‘Hello, Mr .Shaw, I didn’t realize I was talking to the legendary Mr.Shaw of Shaws Inc. I apologise. Pleased to meet you, but what are you doing here ?’ ‘Waiting for you’ That was a strange reply, his company was one of their most important clients ,but it made no sense…..she was at a loss for words.The shadows were falling ,the sun was saying its farewells, the darkness was descending, it was time for her to return home. It was as if he read her mind ‘ Its quite safe here, don’t be worried I will walk you home, but I have a proposition, please hear me.’ She nodded ,more out of a sense of commitment to her work ,than any desire to talk or hear. ‘ Ms.Kaul, Juhi, if I may call you that, I want you to join me..’ Juhi interrupted ‘Mr.Shaw , that is very kind, but I am not going to leave my job, no matter how good your offer maybe. I started this company with my other colleagues, and today we are doing very well, its my baby. Thanks, but no thanks ‘’Lucas smiled again ‘I wasn’t asking you to leave your company, I was going to ask you to marry me’ She jumped, a thunderbolt struck her ,she was shocked, almost aghast, she even wondered whether she was hallucinating, ‘he was one of the richest men in the world, he was sitting on a tree trunk asking her to marry him…crazy.’ She got up abruptly ‘Is that a joke? If so, its not very funny…..’ Lucas smiled again ‘Its no joke, I mean it. Will you marry me?’ Juhi took a long breath ‘Why are you asking me, you don’t even know me?’ ‘I do. I have always loved you ,you have always eluded me’ She got up ,started to walk away ,darkness had fallen. She really didn’t know whether he was Mr.Shaw, and his proposal was bizarre. She broke into a run ,he followed. ‘You haven’t answered me ‘’She ran faster ,maybe he was a lunatic ,or a rapist ,serial killer or worse. She heard him laughing ‘I am not any of these. I just love you ,always have, I want to marry you’ She stopped ,astonished, but beguiled ‘Always? We have never met before.’Lucas was silent. They reached her house ,her home ,and she wasn’t going to call a freak inside, but they were inside. He was pouring her a glass of wine along with one for himself. She felt almost violated, but her curiosity reigned. He clinked his glass ,said ‘To us ‘’Oddly she responded. The wine crept into her veins, warming ,soothing, calming, oddly reassuring, she relaxed, she smiled ,she asked ‘ I don’t understand, you have always loved me, how.. you have never met me’ Lucas sipped his wine ‘Not in this life ,but in every other….and you always eluded me’ His handsome face grew dark, fierce ,almost ugly, she felt a tingling fear ,he laughed it away ‘Sorry I was so abrupt. Can we have dinner ,so we get to know each other, and then you can think about my proposal?’She wondered why had she eluded him, that is ,if she had eluded him…he was handsome, charming ,wealthy….And suddenly she knew, remembered, felt the searing pain of betrayal, the loss of faith ,the repulsion ,the loathing. Satan tempting her ,her refusals ,his fall ,his days as Lucifer ‘’the shining one’’ The twists ,turns ,the torturous days, when he pursued her ,and she refused him. Their love ,doomed ,forbidden. He fell from grace forever ,she became human, no longer an angel. Both of them so similar.. why not ,they were siblings…..he was her brother ,and she his ‘forbidden’ love , it ended, he lived in Hell ,she survived on earth……he pursued her through every life ,she escaped, she would not commit a mortal sin. Satan didn’t care…she did.''
''It had started on a high note, ‘finally I have my space ’to ‘love being independent to do my own thing’ and slowly traversed a rocky road from solitude ,to being alone, to a numbing, silent loneliness. A loneliness that crashed around her ,followed her ,waited for at the end of the day like a bored lover. She walked through deeply wooded uneven lanes, uncertain ,with no destination ,no plansShe muttered to herself ‘A wandering minstrel ,I,A thing of rags and patches’, and she smiled wryly and a bit angrily at this sort of ‘self pity’. She walked silently, hands tucked in her jacket, she whistled tunelessly. A high profile career ,a broken marriage, the ups and downs of life….Her days were jammed with meetings ,clients ,work, endless cups of coffee, a string of cigarettes, and a stream of people. She never socialized ,unless it was for work, she lived alone , she suffered alone ,her work never suffered, her heart and soul did. She wondered ‘ He left me because he felt I was too cold ,career minded, independent , odd he married me for virtually the same reasons ,besides the word ‘cold’. She sat down on a tree stump, lit her umpteenth cigarette, and wondered ‘why’.She never noticed the man sitting next to her ,until he spoke ‘ Don’t be so sad, he wasn’t worth it’. She jerked ‘Excuse me?’ The tall ,dark ,handsome , ‘Mills and Boon’ character smiled ,dimpled ,dazzled with his pristine teeth, and twinkled with his deep blue eyes. She was neither impressed or amused. She waited for an explanation, none was forthcoming ,she waited. Patience was one of her virtues ,but not a strong one. He tipped an imaginary hat ‘Hello, my name is Lucas Shaw, pleased to finally meet you ,Ms.Kaul’ She stared at his proffered hand ,shrugged ,said ‘Finally meet me?’ Lucas smiled ‘After all the business we have done with your company..’ he trailed off. She understood, she knew who he was ,she quickly made amends ‘Hello, Mr .Shaw, I didn’t realize I was talking to the legendary Mr.Shaw of Shaws Inc. I apologise. Pleased to meet you, but what are you doing here ?’ ‘Waiting for you’ That was a strange reply, his company was one of their most important clients ,but it made no sense…..she was at a loss for words.The shadows were falling ,the sun was saying its farewells, the darkness was descending, it was time for her to return home. It was as if he read her mind ‘ Its quite safe here, don’t be worried I will walk you home, but I have a proposition, please hear me.’ She nodded ,more out of a sense of commitment to her work ,than any desire to talk or hear. ‘ Ms.Kaul, Juhi, if I may call you that, I want you to join me..’ Juhi interrupted ‘Mr.Shaw , that is very kind, but I am not going to leave my job, no matter how good your offer maybe. I started this company with my other colleagues, and today we are doing very well, its my baby. Thanks, but no thanks ‘’Lucas smiled again ‘I wasn’t asking you to leave your company, I was going to ask you to marry me’ She jumped, a thunderbolt struck her ,she was shocked, almost aghast, she even wondered whether she was hallucinating, ‘he was one of the richest men in the world, he was sitting on a tree trunk asking her to marry him…crazy.’ She got up abruptly ‘Is that a joke? If so, its not very funny…..’ Lucas smiled again ‘Its no joke, I mean it. Will you marry me?’ Juhi took a long breath ‘Why are you asking me, you don’t even know me?’ ‘I do. I have always loved you ,you have always eluded me’ She got up ,started to walk away ,darkness had fallen. She really didn’t know whether he was Mr.Shaw, and his proposal was bizarre. She broke into a run ,he followed. ‘You haven’t answered me ‘’She ran faster ,maybe he was a lunatic ,or a rapist ,serial killer or worse. She heard him laughing ‘I am not any of these. I just love you ,always have, I want to marry you’ She stopped ,astonished, but beguiled ‘Always? We have never met before.’Lucas was silent. They reached her house ,her home ,and she wasn’t going to call a freak inside, but they were inside. He was pouring her a glass of wine along with one for himself. She felt almost violated, but her curiosity reigned. He clinked his glass ,said ‘To us ‘’Oddly she responded. The wine crept into her veins, warming ,soothing, calming, oddly reassuring, she relaxed, she smiled ,she asked ‘ I don’t understand, you have always loved me, how.. you have never met me’ Lucas sipped his wine ‘Not in this life ,but in every other….and you always eluded me’ His handsome face grew dark, fierce ,almost ugly, she felt a tingling fear ,he laughed it away ‘Sorry I was so abrupt. Can we have dinner ,so we get to know each other, and then you can think about my proposal?’She wondered why had she eluded him, that is ,if she had eluded him…he was handsome, charming ,wealthy….And suddenly she knew, remembered, felt the searing pain of betrayal, the loss of faith ,the repulsion ,the loathing. Satan tempting her ,her refusals ,his fall ,his days as Lucifer ‘’the shining one’’ The twists ,turns ,the torturous days, when he pursued her ,and she refused him. Their love ,doomed ,forbidden. He fell from grace forever ,she became human, no longer an angel. Both of them so similar.. why not ,they were siblings…..he was her brother ,and she his ‘forbidden’ love , it ended, he lived in Hell ,she survived on earth……he pursued her through every life ,she escaped, she would not commit a mortal sin. Satan didn’t care…she did.''
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Hello Darkness
I am blogging.Yes,I write stories,but in every story there is a kernel of truth about me.They are me,my life,my past,present,maybe my future.It is difficult to write to expose my truths to the world,so my stories serve my purpose....in an oblique way.
''She lay back, basking in the sunshine .Soft green grass, blue skies, a golden sun, a cool breeze, a glass of chilled wine, heaven, or the closest thing to it. She turned her slim body over, so the suns rays glowed it all. Butterflies hovered, flowers smiled, azure skies blessed. Her life was perfect.
She stretched like a lithe panther, moved herself into a hammock. Her wine glass in her hand, she lay back, humming a forgotten song. Life is so perfect, she thought. The world is mine. She moved to get a cigarette, and lit up, inhaling deeply. He hated it, but he wasn’t here, so why bother. She giggled like a small child, being naughty when the ‘grown ups’ are away. She stayed, smoked, sang, and swayed in the hammock.
Time went passing by….Nearly time for lunch, where is he? He had left for a business appointment early. “Darling, sorry to leave you, but I will be back for lunch”. She had nodded a sleepy assent. She moved, picked up her watch. It was three p.m. “That is late”. She debated “Should I call him? Or be a dutiful person?”
The question was just a question. She would do what she wanted. She always did. She got out of the enticing hammock, put on a long, loose caftan, and walked in to the cool room. She poured another glass of wine, and switched on the music. Simon and Garfunkel were crooning ‘Hello darkness, my old friend…’.She turned the music off.
No reminders, no memories, no going back. The old days were gone, her future stretched in front in every shade of a rainbow. She blew smoke rings. And thought, “I could be nice, and see her.” She decided she would. She walked across the lawns.
The woman was in the next cottage. Every day since she came, she would visit, with fruits, flowers, love. Every day she would politely decline the gifts. Including, the love. She wanted no part of the woman. But she was always and forever an intrinsic part of her.
Holding her glass of wine, she walked across the designer hedges that separated the cottages. Even now, after all these years she could remember her voice “You are no beauty, too thin, too graceless, your fathers’ long nose, and so many teeth”
It had hurt her then, now she didn’t care. She had been a successful model, married a very eligible man. She was and would always be a success. But trepidation gripped her. She shook it off. She reached the cottage where she was staying. She paused. Then rang the bell.
No answer. Strange. She walked around, until she came to a window. She paused. It was not good manners to look through windows, but she rationalized it. “I am checking to see if she is alright.” She peered in. She saw two entwined bodies in the throes of making love. She stared trying hard to see. She felt like a voyeur. “I have no right to see this.” She stopped midway. She recognized the bodies. Her world shook, shattered, her wine glass fell, broke into myriad sparkling pieces with the trembling of her hands.
Her husband and her mother. Close, enwrapped lovers, she felt the passion, the primal heat, the throb of lust. She pulled herself together .And walked away
She hummed tunelessly ‘Hello darkness, my old friend….’''
''She lay back, basking in the sunshine .Soft green grass, blue skies, a golden sun, a cool breeze, a glass of chilled wine, heaven, or the closest thing to it. She turned her slim body over, so the suns rays glowed it all. Butterflies hovered, flowers smiled, azure skies blessed. Her life was perfect.
She stretched like a lithe panther, moved herself into a hammock. Her wine glass in her hand, she lay back, humming a forgotten song. Life is so perfect, she thought. The world is mine. She moved to get a cigarette, and lit up, inhaling deeply. He hated it, but he wasn’t here, so why bother. She giggled like a small child, being naughty when the ‘grown ups’ are away. She stayed, smoked, sang, and swayed in the hammock.
Time went passing by….Nearly time for lunch, where is he? He had left for a business appointment early. “Darling, sorry to leave you, but I will be back for lunch”. She had nodded a sleepy assent. She moved, picked up her watch. It was three p.m. “That is late”. She debated “Should I call him? Or be a dutiful person?”
The question was just a question. She would do what she wanted. She always did. She got out of the enticing hammock, put on a long, loose caftan, and walked in to the cool room. She poured another glass of wine, and switched on the music. Simon and Garfunkel were crooning ‘Hello darkness, my old friend…’.She turned the music off.
No reminders, no memories, no going back. The old days were gone, her future stretched in front in every shade of a rainbow. She blew smoke rings. And thought, “I could be nice, and see her.” She decided she would. She walked across the lawns.
The woman was in the next cottage. Every day since she came, she would visit, with fruits, flowers, love. Every day she would politely decline the gifts. Including, the love. She wanted no part of the woman. But she was always and forever an intrinsic part of her.
Holding her glass of wine, she walked across the designer hedges that separated the cottages. Even now, after all these years she could remember her voice “You are no beauty, too thin, too graceless, your fathers’ long nose, and so many teeth”
It had hurt her then, now she didn’t care. She had been a successful model, married a very eligible man. She was and would always be a success. But trepidation gripped her. She shook it off. She reached the cottage where she was staying. She paused. Then rang the bell.
No answer. Strange. She walked around, until she came to a window. She paused. It was not good manners to look through windows, but she rationalized it. “I am checking to see if she is alright.” She peered in. She saw two entwined bodies in the throes of making love. She stared trying hard to see. She felt like a voyeur. “I have no right to see this.” She stopped midway. She recognized the bodies. Her world shook, shattered, her wine glass fell, broke into myriad sparkling pieces with the trembling of her hands.
Her husband and her mother. Close, enwrapped lovers, she felt the passion, the primal heat, the throb of lust. She pulled herself together .And walked away
She hummed tunelessly ‘Hello darkness, my old friend….’''
Thursday, March 15, 2007
C and A
A storyteller will tell stories.So another one:
Hot, humid, horrific. The night was all that and more. She couldn’t care. She was on a mission. She strode down the raw bleeding underbelly of Mumbai, a tiny figure in denims, a hooded black jacket, and sneakers. Pimps, whores, drug pushers, drug addicts, ‘hijras’ ,winos, cruisers, thronged the street .She never looked.
He was concerned. ‘This is a dangerous place to be walking at this time ‘’.She shrugged ‘Leave if you want.’. Her abrupt dismissal hurt. Damn it, he loved her. He couldn’t leave her alone, though he knew that she couldn’t care less. His six foot frame tried to keep up with her. Like a panther, she loped, pausing to sniff her prey. Her hazel eyes glowed, he knew she was unstoppable. The streets grew narrower, the lights dimmer, the stench of human debris was making him sick. She didn’t stop.
‘This must be hell’ he thought. And hell it was. Waylaid by ‘dalals’ pushing girls, boys, children ,drugs. She stopped.’ This it it. Lets go’.
It was a seedy ,dilapidated bar. He demurred ‘That’s no place for a lady’ ‘Are you a lady?” she sneered, and walked in. The room was dark, sweetly smoky, men of all sizes sat sprawled with vacant eyes, leering faces, entwined in a grotesque embraces. She stepped over them, and to the bar. ‘’Two draft beers’. The man stared at her ,trepidation lurking in his eyes. She smiled. The sun broke the dark clouds. The man smiled furtively ,poured two beers, she paid him, imperiously waving the change away. The man thawed. ‘Thank you Madam’. Another smile ,more radiant.
The man stood spellbound. ‘Do you want some thing to eat?” “No, but I would like to talk to you.” The man drew away. ‘I just am manager of the bar, not the ‘seth’. I don’t know anything’ She soothed him ‘No, not anything about the lovely restaurant, just some directions. I am new here.’ .He wondered that she lied so innocently. The man relaxed ‘You are a foreigner, Madam’ She nodded. ‘Yes. From Spain.’’ The man smiled ‘How can I help you ,Madam?” She laughed ‘By bringing us another two beers.’.
He was perplexed. She drained her glass, his was untouched. The beers came. She lit up, blowing perfect smoke rings, he hated it. And it made no difference to her. She cosied herself on the chair blending with the pervading, pervasive persona of the place. Four beers later, and too many smokes, she had become a part of the decay. He wanted to leave, but his innate goodness, and love for her stopped him.
He had asked her “Why are we doing this” so often in the last month, since she asked him to accompany her. She smiled mona lisa like. Didn’t answer. She waved to the man. She whispered. The man smiled, went scuttling away. And came back with an emaciated young man. Face of an angel, vacant eyes, a choirboys voice. The man smiled furtively, and said softly ‘This one will do anything for money. For the drugs….”.She smiled graciously ‘Thank you. Can we book a room upstairs?’ and slipped him a thousand rupee note. The man appeared overwhelmed ‘Of course Madam. I will take you there myself .Come on Cat….” The last words were addressed to the boy.
He intervened ‘What are you doing ?This doesn’t appear right” She smiled a victorious, but a strange smile “You are welcome to leave handsome. I can handle this on my own” They walked upstairs, into a shabby room. The man promptly got a few beers and disappeared. So did another thousand rupee note. She sat back, gave the boy a beer ,he drank greedily. For a millisecond her eyes softened ‘When did you eat last, boy ?” .He never answered, just sat gulping beer. ‘you know what you are here for, don’t you boy?’ He nodded. He got up, started to take of his clothes. She stopped him. ‘Just lie down. Nothing else ‘’.The boy nodded.
He couldn’t take it any more.’ I am leaving. This is sick’ She shrugged. She went to the boy, stared at him, He was in happyland. Alcohol and drugs. A lethal combination. She went to the boy, and her hands snaked round his throat. Strong, brown, slender killer hands. He watched in horror, riveted to the spot. The boy was dead. To complete the act, she smothered him with the pillow. He couldn’t move speak, or help the boy. The boy didn’t even resist. His eyes stared at her, as if he was thanking her.
.He wondered what to do? Call the police, inform the barman…no, he wouldn’t care. A junkie died!! Overdose. No relatives, no family, no one. Just a druggie who sold his body to satisfy his cravings. Who would care.
Suddenly, he stood riveted, stunned, in shock. She was holding the boy, hugging him, her body racked with deep sobs, her tears flowing endlessly. He felt compelled to offer comfort to a woman who had murdered a man in cold blood. And now sat racking with sobs, hugging his corpse.
“Why are you crying” he stammered. She got up abruptly, and held him tight. ‘That was my little brother. My parents died in penury and shame because of him. I had to kill him, before he was caught by the police, or worse. But I loved him so very much. He was my baby ,my j’aan, my bhai’. Now he is safe.’
All he knew was ,…. he wasn’t.
Hot, humid, horrific. The night was all that and more. She couldn’t care. She was on a mission. She strode down the raw bleeding underbelly of Mumbai, a tiny figure in denims, a hooded black jacket, and sneakers. Pimps, whores, drug pushers, drug addicts, ‘hijras’ ,winos, cruisers, thronged the street .She never looked.
He was concerned. ‘This is a dangerous place to be walking at this time ‘’.She shrugged ‘Leave if you want.’. Her abrupt dismissal hurt. Damn it, he loved her. He couldn’t leave her alone, though he knew that she couldn’t care less. His six foot frame tried to keep up with her. Like a panther, she loped, pausing to sniff her prey. Her hazel eyes glowed, he knew she was unstoppable. The streets grew narrower, the lights dimmer, the stench of human debris was making him sick. She didn’t stop.
‘This must be hell’ he thought. And hell it was. Waylaid by ‘dalals’ pushing girls, boys, children ,drugs. She stopped.’ This it it. Lets go’.
It was a seedy ,dilapidated bar. He demurred ‘That’s no place for a lady’ ‘Are you a lady?” she sneered, and walked in. The room was dark, sweetly smoky, men of all sizes sat sprawled with vacant eyes, leering faces, entwined in a grotesque embraces. She stepped over them, and to the bar. ‘’Two draft beers’. The man stared at her ,trepidation lurking in his eyes. She smiled. The sun broke the dark clouds. The man smiled furtively ,poured two beers, she paid him, imperiously waving the change away. The man thawed. ‘Thank you Madam’. Another smile ,more radiant.
The man stood spellbound. ‘Do you want some thing to eat?” “No, but I would like to talk to you.” The man drew away. ‘I just am manager of the bar, not the ‘seth’. I don’t know anything’ She soothed him ‘No, not anything about the lovely restaurant, just some directions. I am new here.’ .He wondered that she lied so innocently. The man relaxed ‘You are a foreigner, Madam’ She nodded. ‘Yes. From Spain.’’ The man smiled ‘How can I help you ,Madam?” She laughed ‘By bringing us another two beers.’.
He was perplexed. She drained her glass, his was untouched. The beers came. She lit up, blowing perfect smoke rings, he hated it. And it made no difference to her. She cosied herself on the chair blending with the pervading, pervasive persona of the place. Four beers later, and too many smokes, she had become a part of the decay. He wanted to leave, but his innate goodness, and love for her stopped him.
He had asked her “Why are we doing this” so often in the last month, since she asked him to accompany her. She smiled mona lisa like. Didn’t answer. She waved to the man. She whispered. The man smiled, went scuttling away. And came back with an emaciated young man. Face of an angel, vacant eyes, a choirboys voice. The man smiled furtively, and said softly ‘This one will do anything for money. For the drugs….”.She smiled graciously ‘Thank you. Can we book a room upstairs?’ and slipped him a thousand rupee note. The man appeared overwhelmed ‘Of course Madam. I will take you there myself .Come on Cat….” The last words were addressed to the boy.
He intervened ‘What are you doing ?This doesn’t appear right” She smiled a victorious, but a strange smile “You are welcome to leave handsome. I can handle this on my own” They walked upstairs, into a shabby room. The man promptly got a few beers and disappeared. So did another thousand rupee note. She sat back, gave the boy a beer ,he drank greedily. For a millisecond her eyes softened ‘When did you eat last, boy ?” .He never answered, just sat gulping beer. ‘you know what you are here for, don’t you boy?’ He nodded. He got up, started to take of his clothes. She stopped him. ‘Just lie down. Nothing else ‘’.The boy nodded.
He couldn’t take it any more.’ I am leaving. This is sick’ She shrugged. She went to the boy, stared at him, He was in happyland. Alcohol and drugs. A lethal combination. She went to the boy, and her hands snaked round his throat. Strong, brown, slender killer hands. He watched in horror, riveted to the spot. The boy was dead. To complete the act, she smothered him with the pillow. He couldn’t move speak, or help the boy. The boy didn’t even resist. His eyes stared at her, as if he was thanking her.
.He wondered what to do? Call the police, inform the barman…no, he wouldn’t care. A junkie died!! Overdose. No relatives, no family, no one. Just a druggie who sold his body to satisfy his cravings. Who would care.
Suddenly, he stood riveted, stunned, in shock. She was holding the boy, hugging him, her body racked with deep sobs, her tears flowing endlessly. He felt compelled to offer comfort to a woman who had murdered a man in cold blood. And now sat racking with sobs, hugging his corpse.
“Why are you crying” he stammered. She got up abruptly, and held him tight. ‘That was my little brother. My parents died in penury and shame because of him. I had to kill him, before he was caught by the police, or worse. But I loved him so very much. He was my baby ,my j’aan, my bhai’. Now he is safe.’
All he knew was ,…. he wasn’t.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The black knight.
Wondering what to write.The wordsmith decided...another story.
She dropped her son, Ryan to school everyday. She drove ,he watched, she sat silent ,he asked questions. She didn’t answer ,he persisted. For six, he was a very determined child. A stream of questions, ‘ why ,how ,who, where…’’.Every query in a good reporters’ textbook! She smiled, he was a curious child, so had she been ,so still was she. She had no answers to his questions, she hurt ,he wondered, a dead end ……Again he asked ‘Mummy, why wont you tell me where is my Dad? All my friends have Dads, why don’t I? ‘’ She soothed him with lollipop words ‘Do they have a nana, nani?’. It didn’t help.
She made a decision. She told her son ‘After school, in the evening ,I will tell you about your Dad ‘’.H e smiled ,sunshine thru clouds, ‘Promise ‘’.She nodded ‘Promise ‘’. And evening came. She sat with her son on the swing in her parents old house in a small hill station in the far away land of the East. Autumn was falling, so were leaves, a chill wind froze her ,she hugged the mug of hot tea, and curled snugly under her shawl. Ryan tugged her shawl ‘Where is my Dad ?’’
She wondered ,but started ‘Once upon a time..’. Ryan interrupted ‘Fairy stories start like that ,not real stories..’. She saw his aggrieved face ,said a ‘sorry ‘and continued ‘ When I was very young, I took a trip to England. I enjoyed it ,had fun, and then one day I met a handsome young man. He was tall, dark, green eyed ,red haired, and we fell in love. He asked me to marry him, and I said ‘yes’, I loved him so much, he was the most dashing, exciting man I had ever met. ‘’.Ryan interrupted ‘And he was my Dad? ‘’.She nodded ‘Yes he was. My aunt and uncle were not too happy, and I wondered why. Ian was an aristocrat, wealthy, educated ,handsome, charming, pedigreed……I asked them, and got evasive replies. All I knew that my mother was coming here ‘’.Ryan interrupted ‘Nani came to England! ‘’. I decided to keep it simple ‘She did. And she approved of Ian. My aunt and uncle told her several stories, [they loved gossip]she disregarded them. ‘’.’What stories ?’asked Ryan. She shrugged. ‘Some stupid tales about dragons ,and spells, but mum and I were 20th century people, we refused to listen. We got married in his castle’s beautiful cathedral. ’’.
She paused ,he asked ‘And then? She took a deep breath, continued ‘Ian told me his family secret ,his family curse. He was a man in the day ,and a dragon at night .He went to his lair at night, breathed fire ,had to kill damsels, and fight the brave knights. He hated this mundane existence ,but he had no choice ,it was a family curse.’ Ryan, a frightened Ryan said ‘Will I become a dragon also?’’. She soothed him. ‘No, that was only for the second sons of the family. And you are the first ‘’He waited, she continued ‘I got used to it, it didn’t bother me, though I felt bad ,sad for the damsels and knights, but we were happy, in love ,and soon I was going to have a baby. Ian felt I should go home to my parents ,in case he couldn’t look after me. But ,I refused. Until the night it happened ‘’. ‘What happened ?’said a very anxious Ryan.
‘A brave knight came to save his damsel, hurt the dragon almost mortally, and went away .Morning dawned, his personal magician examined him, very grimly, very somberly, and said ‘Sire ,the lady must leave now. You are grievously wounded, and it will take me a long time to create my magical elixir to revive you. From now on you will be a dragon all day, all night. The lady and her to- be- born child must flee. And not return until I give you the elixir. So I left, came here ,you were born, and we lived here..’
Ryan interrupted ‘The stupid magician hasn’t yet cured my father ?’She nodded sadly. Ryan looked dejected. ‘I don’t care if my father is a dragon, I want to meet him .’.She imitated a sad smile. ‘No, you cant. The dragon hates children.’ .Ryan was astounded and saddened by this story, but being a clever little boy, he realized the benefits of telling this tale to his schoolmates….whoever had a father who was a dragon. He hugged her ,and went in to tell the story to the staff. She said nothing, just held her tea cup tighter. ‘I made him happy, how does it matter ‘’.
She saw her mother come out. She saw the envelope in her hands, she saw her mothers face ,she knew. Silently she opened the envelope, silently she read it ,silently she returned it to her mother. It was the wedding card of Inder Kapoor, Ryans’ father ,her ex –husband. She laughed ‘The dragon is fine, cured, just forgotten us…’.Her mother stared ‘What are you babbling about? This is a wedding card, the bastard invites us to his wedding, and you are laughing, why ? ‘’.No replies were given, none were acceptable. Role reversal. She was the dragon, he was the little boy…..she sang off key ‘Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea…’
She dropped her son, Ryan to school everyday. She drove ,he watched, she sat silent ,he asked questions. She didn’t answer ,he persisted. For six, he was a very determined child. A stream of questions, ‘ why ,how ,who, where…’’.Every query in a good reporters’ textbook! She smiled, he was a curious child, so had she been ,so still was she. She had no answers to his questions, she hurt ,he wondered, a dead end ……Again he asked ‘Mummy, why wont you tell me where is my Dad? All my friends have Dads, why don’t I? ‘’ She soothed him with lollipop words ‘Do they have a nana, nani?’. It didn’t help.
She made a decision. She told her son ‘After school, in the evening ,I will tell you about your Dad ‘’.H e smiled ,sunshine thru clouds, ‘Promise ‘’.She nodded ‘Promise ‘’. And evening came. She sat with her son on the swing in her parents old house in a small hill station in the far away land of the East. Autumn was falling, so were leaves, a chill wind froze her ,she hugged the mug of hot tea, and curled snugly under her shawl. Ryan tugged her shawl ‘Where is my Dad ?’’
She wondered ,but started ‘Once upon a time..’. Ryan interrupted ‘Fairy stories start like that ,not real stories..’. She saw his aggrieved face ,said a ‘sorry ‘and continued ‘ When I was very young, I took a trip to England. I enjoyed it ,had fun, and then one day I met a handsome young man. He was tall, dark, green eyed ,red haired, and we fell in love. He asked me to marry him, and I said ‘yes’, I loved him so much, he was the most dashing, exciting man I had ever met. ‘’.Ryan interrupted ‘And he was my Dad? ‘’.She nodded ‘Yes he was. My aunt and uncle were not too happy, and I wondered why. Ian was an aristocrat, wealthy, educated ,handsome, charming, pedigreed……I asked them, and got evasive replies. All I knew that my mother was coming here ‘’.Ryan interrupted ‘Nani came to England! ‘’. I decided to keep it simple ‘She did. And she approved of Ian. My aunt and uncle told her several stories, [they loved gossip]she disregarded them. ‘’.’What stories ?’asked Ryan. She shrugged. ‘Some stupid tales about dragons ,and spells, but mum and I were 20th century people, we refused to listen. We got married in his castle’s beautiful cathedral. ’’.
She paused ,he asked ‘And then? She took a deep breath, continued ‘Ian told me his family secret ,his family curse. He was a man in the day ,and a dragon at night .He went to his lair at night, breathed fire ,had to kill damsels, and fight the brave knights. He hated this mundane existence ,but he had no choice ,it was a family curse.’ Ryan, a frightened Ryan said ‘Will I become a dragon also?’’. She soothed him. ‘No, that was only for the second sons of the family. And you are the first ‘’He waited, she continued ‘I got used to it, it didn’t bother me, though I felt bad ,sad for the damsels and knights, but we were happy, in love ,and soon I was going to have a baby. Ian felt I should go home to my parents ,in case he couldn’t look after me. But ,I refused. Until the night it happened ‘’. ‘What happened ?’said a very anxious Ryan.
‘A brave knight came to save his damsel, hurt the dragon almost mortally, and went away .Morning dawned, his personal magician examined him, very grimly, very somberly, and said ‘Sire ,the lady must leave now. You are grievously wounded, and it will take me a long time to create my magical elixir to revive you. From now on you will be a dragon all day, all night. The lady and her to- be- born child must flee. And not return until I give you the elixir. So I left, came here ,you were born, and we lived here..’
Ryan interrupted ‘The stupid magician hasn’t yet cured my father ?’She nodded sadly. Ryan looked dejected. ‘I don’t care if my father is a dragon, I want to meet him .’.She imitated a sad smile. ‘No, you cant. The dragon hates children.’ .Ryan was astounded and saddened by this story, but being a clever little boy, he realized the benefits of telling this tale to his schoolmates….whoever had a father who was a dragon. He hugged her ,and went in to tell the story to the staff. She said nothing, just held her tea cup tighter. ‘I made him happy, how does it matter ‘’.
She saw her mother come out. She saw the envelope in her hands, she saw her mothers face ,she knew. Silently she opened the envelope, silently she read it ,silently she returned it to her mother. It was the wedding card of Inder Kapoor, Ryans’ father ,her ex –husband. She laughed ‘The dragon is fine, cured, just forgotten us…’.Her mother stared ‘What are you babbling about? This is a wedding card, the bastard invites us to his wedding, and you are laughing, why ? ‘’.No replies were given, none were acceptable. Role reversal. She was the dragon, he was the little boy…..she sang off key ‘Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea…’
A Story.
Can I write a story?Here goes-
The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
She hated hospitals, always had ,always would. She was repelled by its distinctive smell, a mix of disinfectant, urine ,bile and blood. ‘Eau de hospital’, nauseous, pervading ,invasive. She blocked the smell. She had a job to do, and she ,being she, would do it. She was alone. She wanted it that way. She refused a partner ,another officer ,this was her problem, her responsibility ,she had to handle it. And she would. She was in mufti, jeans, white shirt ,sneakers, no uniform. She reached the ward, she saw her lying there ,bandaged , wounded, a drip on her fragile wrist. She saw the parents sitting, soundless, eyes filled with pain, shock an almost disbelief. She saw her.
A thin pale girl, eyes dazed ,in shock, staring at the walls, the dirty yellow ,paint peeling walls. A wave of sympathy caught her in its grip. She came to the bed ‘Hi Sonu, how are you ?’ The girls eyes focused ,they stared at her ,they brightened ‘Annu Tai, I am so glad you came.’ She pulled a chair, sat down ‘How are you? I need to talk to you” She added ‘Alone’. The girl nodded ,motioned to her parents to leave, it was just them and the bloodied bandages. She wasted no time, time was paramount ‘What happened Sonu ?’ The ravaged body on the bed tried to compose her thoughts ,she failed ,she cried ‘A monster attacked me .’ She looked kindly ,but skeptically ‘A monster? Did a man do this ,and if so why ?I need all details.’ The girl on the bed said ‘It was not a man. It was a monster’ ‘I need details, just talk’. The girl stumbled through words ‘I work in a call centre. Our boss is a young and good looking man. All the girls had a crush on him….’She added unhappily ‘Including me’
Aruna waited, she wanted details, she sat patiently while the girl gathered her scattered wits. ‘ Rahul, that’s his name, started wooing me, I was thrilled. All the girls were so jealous. We started dating about a month ago….’Sonu paused ,Aruna didn’t allow her to ‘Go ahead’ ‘Three nights ago, after work he asked me to join for a coffee. He suggested his house. And I went’ ‘You went to his house at two p.m. ‘’she verified. Color stained Sonu’s cheeks ,but she defended her actions ‘ Yes, I trusted him ,loved him, believed in him….’ She started to cry. Aruna waited. She resumed through a bout of hiccupping ‘ We had coffee ,we heard music, he went inside ,and this huge ferocious dog or wolf attacked me. I was so frightened, I tried to fight the animal off, I called for Rahul, he never came. Some of my friends had been following me, they heard my cries, rushed in, and the wolf dog disappeared. But not before wounding and biting me…’She dissolved in tears ‘Rahul is not connected to this. He is innocent. He had to leave suddenly that night ,his mother was very sick, he had no time to tell me, he just drove off, and forgot that I was there ‘’she added defiantly. Aruna got up ,she soothed the girl, she left.
All she knew this was the third case of mangling, killing by a wolf….one had died ,two were in hospital. She walked away ,her mind in a turmoil. She had to speak to someone, and who better than her friend Jeroo, psychologist, the voice of sanity, reason … She dialed her cell, no reply. Aruna decided to visit her…. She rang her doorbell, no reply ,the lights were on ,the music was playing, puzzling. She debated. She decided ,and broke the lock, walked in and saw Jeroo lying on the floor, bleeding ,dying. She tried to pick her up , her almost ravaged ,dead form was trying to say something .Aruna held her close , hugged her.. she heard her whisper ‘Werewolf….that man ,R…..’.Jeroo, her dearest friend was dead. Aruna held her ,cried ,called her nephew ,the doctors . And left.
A dark ,bitter rage coursed through her veins, tears blurred her vision, frustration sneered her brain. She gritted her teeth…..
She had to find the man, the wolf, or bizarrely the ‘werewolf ‘’. Fear was unknown to her. She drove to Rahul Sharma’s house. She rang the bell, she waited ,she wasn’t going to leave without answers. The door opened ,He stood there ,tall ,dark, handsome. She strode in ,flashing her ID , ‘Aruna Gokhale, police.’ He smiled ‘Please come in .’She was defensive ,she was angry, she wasn’t going to be deceived by a handsome face, she meant business. ‘Mr.Sharma, two persons are dead, one is dying, the only link is you…and a dog. I want explanations and fast.’ Rahul smiled ,he looked happy, he came up to her ,she moved away. His smile broadened ‘ Have you forgotten me ? The boy, the wolf ,the disappearance?’ She stood shocked. Words left her. She remembered oh-so- clearly.
Rahul ‘Roro’, her kid brother, ‘Wolf’ their dog. Both had disappeared, her parents had searched for years, neither were found. She looked at him, questions in her eyes. He said very softly ‘He was a werewolf, he died after biting me, so I became one. It wasn’t my fault. Will you still arrest me? ‘’She faltered, she remembered her little brother with love. A mistake. The werewolf sprang…..and she battled with the monster. She had her gun ,he had his fangs, teeth, claws, but he was not human, she was…..she couldn’t fire the gun, but he could kill her……he did. The werewolf howled victoriously, the man cried , sobbed …….
The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
She hated hospitals, always had ,always would. She was repelled by its distinctive smell, a mix of disinfectant, urine ,bile and blood. ‘Eau de hospital’, nauseous, pervading ,invasive. She blocked the smell. She had a job to do, and she ,being she, would do it. She was alone. She wanted it that way. She refused a partner ,another officer ,this was her problem, her responsibility ,she had to handle it. And she would. She was in mufti, jeans, white shirt ,sneakers, no uniform. She reached the ward, she saw her lying there ,bandaged , wounded, a drip on her fragile wrist. She saw the parents sitting, soundless, eyes filled with pain, shock an almost disbelief. She saw her.
A thin pale girl, eyes dazed ,in shock, staring at the walls, the dirty yellow ,paint peeling walls. A wave of sympathy caught her in its grip. She came to the bed ‘Hi Sonu, how are you ?’ The girls eyes focused ,they stared at her ,they brightened ‘Annu Tai, I am so glad you came.’ She pulled a chair, sat down ‘How are you? I need to talk to you” She added ‘Alone’. The girl nodded ,motioned to her parents to leave, it was just them and the bloodied bandages. She wasted no time, time was paramount ‘What happened Sonu ?’ The ravaged body on the bed tried to compose her thoughts ,she failed ,she cried ‘A monster attacked me .’ She looked kindly ,but skeptically ‘A monster? Did a man do this ,and if so why ?I need all details.’ The girl on the bed said ‘It was not a man. It was a monster’ ‘I need details, just talk’. The girl stumbled through words ‘I work in a call centre. Our boss is a young and good looking man. All the girls had a crush on him….’She added unhappily ‘Including me’
Aruna waited, she wanted details, she sat patiently while the girl gathered her scattered wits. ‘ Rahul, that’s his name, started wooing me, I was thrilled. All the girls were so jealous. We started dating about a month ago….’Sonu paused ,Aruna didn’t allow her to ‘Go ahead’ ‘Three nights ago, after work he asked me to join for a coffee. He suggested his house. And I went’ ‘You went to his house at two p.m. ‘’she verified. Color stained Sonu’s cheeks ,but she defended her actions ‘ Yes, I trusted him ,loved him, believed in him….’ She started to cry. Aruna waited. She resumed through a bout of hiccupping ‘ We had coffee ,we heard music, he went inside ,and this huge ferocious dog or wolf attacked me. I was so frightened, I tried to fight the animal off, I called for Rahul, he never came. Some of my friends had been following me, they heard my cries, rushed in, and the wolf dog disappeared. But not before wounding and biting me…’She dissolved in tears ‘Rahul is not connected to this. He is innocent. He had to leave suddenly that night ,his mother was very sick, he had no time to tell me, he just drove off, and forgot that I was there ‘’she added defiantly. Aruna got up ,she soothed the girl, she left.
All she knew this was the third case of mangling, killing by a wolf….one had died ,two were in hospital. She walked away ,her mind in a turmoil. She had to speak to someone, and who better than her friend Jeroo, psychologist, the voice of sanity, reason … She dialed her cell, no reply. Aruna decided to visit her…. She rang her doorbell, no reply ,the lights were on ,the music was playing, puzzling. She debated. She decided ,and broke the lock, walked in and saw Jeroo lying on the floor, bleeding ,dying. She tried to pick her up , her almost ravaged ,dead form was trying to say something .Aruna held her close , hugged her.. she heard her whisper ‘Werewolf….that man ,R…..’.Jeroo, her dearest friend was dead. Aruna held her ,cried ,called her nephew ,the doctors . And left.
A dark ,bitter rage coursed through her veins, tears blurred her vision, frustration sneered her brain. She gritted her teeth…..
She had to find the man, the wolf, or bizarrely the ‘werewolf ‘’. Fear was unknown to her. She drove to Rahul Sharma’s house. She rang the bell, she waited ,she wasn’t going to leave without answers. The door opened ,He stood there ,tall ,dark, handsome. She strode in ,flashing her ID , ‘Aruna Gokhale, police.’ He smiled ‘Please come in .’She was defensive ,she was angry, she wasn’t going to be deceived by a handsome face, she meant business. ‘Mr.Sharma, two persons are dead, one is dying, the only link is you…and a dog. I want explanations and fast.’ Rahul smiled ,he looked happy, he came up to her ,she moved away. His smile broadened ‘ Have you forgotten me ? The boy, the wolf ,the disappearance?’ She stood shocked. Words left her. She remembered oh-so- clearly.
Rahul ‘Roro’, her kid brother, ‘Wolf’ their dog. Both had disappeared, her parents had searched for years, neither were found. She looked at him, questions in her eyes. He said very softly ‘He was a werewolf, he died after biting me, so I became one. It wasn’t my fault. Will you still arrest me? ‘’She faltered, she remembered her little brother with love. A mistake. The werewolf sprang…..and she battled with the monster. She had her gun ,he had his fangs, teeth, claws, but he was not human, she was…..she couldn’t fire the gun, but he could kill her……he did. The werewolf howled victoriously, the man cried , sobbed …….
A BEGINNING!
I decide to blog! Never done it. So am writing a flow of thoughts.My daughter told me ‘don’t use your name, write under a psyuedonym’ .Why? My dad named me Jayashree -the victorious one. He loved ,me, was proud of me ,so I don’t need to hide my name.Am a journalist and writer,but to blog,I have been toldI 'should'write it like a diary.I dont like the pejorative''should''!
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