Wednesday, August 5, 2009

WET TOUCHES OF AN OLD AUGUST - ARINDAM DEY

The boy looked outside the window. Little drops of water kept playing with the glass pane. The clouds were still heavy. There were no distant possibility of the rains to stop. The class inside was pretty boring as well. Almost two-thirds of the class was absent due to the overnight rains that continued in the morning as well. Even most of the teachers were absent. But he came. He had to come. Because she would come too. And she had.

 

And it was just after the fourth period that the school decided to call the classes over. Every one was happy, but not him. He had missed another three long periods of looking at her. Looking at her smile, talk and even at times glancing at him. And today even the class pressure was not there. What could have been more romantic than a day like this! 'God must have the worst sense of romance' he thought.

 

The streets were all water logged, not uncommon during this time of the year. While the elders cursed the government for it, their younger counterparts enjoyed it like anything. The boy came out with his umbrella & bicycle. He was just about to ride it when he saw her coming. Today, just like his friends, all her friends were absent too. So she came playing with the water by herself. She didnt have an umbrella. He waited for her to come up.

 

"Hi!" she said, "so you got no friends today?"

"No" he replied, "so it seems with you too."

"Yeah!" she smiled, "a little rain and they are all shut inside."

He smiled, "So ... you got no umbrella?"

"Oh ya i have" she said, "I used it while coming, cause i didnt want to get wet then. But now that i am returning home, i dont mind the rains!"

"All right then" he smiled and folded his umbrella back into his bag.

"Arey, Why are you closing it?" she was confused.

"Well..." he said hesitating, "if u dont mind... then... may i give you a ride to your home?" and then added immediately almost as an excuse, "its actually on the way to my home you know..."

She looked at him for sometime and smiled, "Okay."

 

The two rode through the water logged isolated streets as the drizzle kept on soaking them. For him, it was like a dream. And sitting in front of him was the very princess of those dreams. He felt strong and yet he was scared. He didnt know what he was. He could smell the wet fragrance of her shoulder, and the scent of her hair almost mesmerised him. The feeling of her cuddled into his arms there invoked a strange unknown feeling of ecstasy in him, as if he was living a moment called forever. A moment that was his very own. A moment that no one could ever take away from him.  He wanted to drive the cycle in the best way he could making it as comfortable for her as possible. He was nervous. And so was she too. Never had she done anything like this before. She could sense his warm breath on her shoulders and neck, and feel the flex of his muscles around her. She didnot know what went on inside her but she knew that she wanted every moment to linger a bit longer. Never had she felt anyone so close to her. And something inside her told her that she was happy it was him. They tried to talk but something kept them silent. Perhaps they didnt want their voice to disturb the warm intimate dialogue that their hearts were having in their silence. Minutes passed like that. The only thing that sounded was the little droplets of water blessed from the heavens. Gradually they came near the girls house. She got off.

 

"Thanks" she smiled.

"You are welcome" he said with an effort.

 

He looked at her. She stood in front of him completely drenched. He could see the little droplets that ran down her cheeks. Her uniform clung onto her body, totally soaked. He swallowed a lump.

 

"What?" she asked softly.

"No... nothing" he felt caught, "you are fully wet. Go in quickly or you might catch cold."

"Why dont you come in? Till the rain stops?" she asked.

"No" he said almost against his will, "i'll be fine."

"Why?" she said, "I can catch cold, cant you? Are you so differnt from me?"

"No-no" he was embarassed,  "i didnt mean that."

"Then come in" she insisted, "look at yourself you are totally wet, head to toe. Let me give you a towel, rub your head. you'll go once the rain stops."

"Actually" he said hesitatingly, "it seems the rains will only get heavier. So let me go before it starts to pour hard."

She looked up at the sky. the clouds had no doubt got darker. She gave up, "Ok... but you'll be okay na?"

"Oh yes" he smiled assuringly, "My home is just ten minutes ride from here."

"Ok" she said slowly, "just go carefully. See you."

"Yup" he mounted his cycle, "see you tomorrow."

He had barely gone a few yards when she called out, "hey just a second." 

He stopped. She came running to him.

"What?" he asked.

 

The water drops were still rolling down her cheeks and neck. She looked around once. And then brought her face near his. As if sensing what she was doing, he leaned in too. And she whispered earnestly in his ears, "Are we really that different?" and planted a soft kiss on his cheek and stepped back. For a moment she stood there giving him the most incredible smile, and then she ran back. He stood there, stunned for a few seconds. then he looked up at the heavens once as the rain drops doused his face. 'Not that bad sense of romance after all' he thought smiling and rode off...

 

HAVE A GOOD DAY - ANUBHAV

A lazy morning. More like a dress rehearsal for winters. You yawn, several times over. Stretch, throw, tear your body apart, again and again and again. Look out the window, it's hazy. The sound of onions frying in hot oil on the stove plays like your "Good morning" song. Get up! "Pull me up, someone!" Finally on your feet, you somehow manage to get to the kitchen in as many number of steps as you would require to travel a mile.

 

Still out of senses, tea preparation starts. You don't require senses to prepare tea, anyway! The morning newspaper waiting for you at the door. Press the topmost button on the TV remote, "...but first, the headlines..." Slurrrppp! Your phone rings and you are informed that the roads are so badly clogged that it's impossible for traffic to pass. Not able to control, you keep your mug aside, throw the paper away and dance a merry little jig, run and kiss the news presenter on tv in joy, hurt your knee in the process. But who cares, you don't have to work today.

 

You've woken up only to go back to sleep. And you think that is how it should be like during these months. Wake up to go to sleep. And sleep. And more sleep. Sleep all day, why don't we? You've never had such a colossal appetite for lethargy and you want to run away from all forms of work. Even taking meals seems a waste of energy.

 

The notorious wind rushing in from one window of your bed room and leaving from the one in your living, not without camouflaging in some droplets, soaking whatever is close to the window. But who cares, you don't have to work today. Towing yourself up for lunch you realise that you can't move out, roads are blocked.

So you 'Dial a Pizza'. But they are not delivering to your doorstep today. Roads are blocked. Then, defeated, you crawl to your kitchen to prepare those evergreen noodles for yourself which have never, till date, taken only 2 minutes to get ready.

 

Zzzzz...

 

The evening tea beckons, so do the utility programs on tv. Surf, Surf, Surf, Yaawwwnnn, Slurrpp! Surf. "Every morning I wish I could just play, wish the morning would just stay".

 

It's after dusk now and you have to start worrying for your meal again. You just try your luck at the Pizza place and... yes, it's affirmative. Hog, Hog, Hawwg! You just had enough of the most pizzas ever and while doing that you also caught up on one of your all time favourite movies. Whatte day! Back to your bed, yet again. Lying down, trying to revise the day but failing big time as there was nothing much you did to write home about. Switch the mosquito repellent on. The music of onions frying in hot oil persists. The wind still playing. You feel cold. But who cares! You didn't have to work today, the roads were blocked, you danced a merry little jig, kissed the news presenter. And that knee... it still hurts!

A VISIT - TAN

It was raining cats and dogs when I left home. I was hurrying through the drenched streets and making my way to where she lives now. She would be waiting, I knew. She would be getting wet too. I took the raincoat, but forgot the hat – was in such a hurry. Took a bunch of yellow tulips from the florist at the corner; she loves these. I moved nearer to her place. Making my way through the fleeing crowd was toil. I hid the flowers inside the raincoat, hoping they would not get soaked. And I rushed through. Many of the folks had umbrellas. Hush! Why did I not bring mine? – I thought. This small kid, walking with her dog in her lap was trying to get underneath her mother’s umbrella. She was playing hide and seek with the rain and getting drenched – the mother was too hasty to look back at her, as she passed me. Hope they live nearby. The other couple was too busy in each other that they could not see the rushing limousine. And as I thought, the car splashed all the water unto them. They looked at themselves, then the passing car, then at each other and laughed. Weirdoes! They found another excuse to hold each other more tightly. All the people were either walking swiftly towards their destination or running towards a nearby hideout. None had time to look at anyone; neither did I. She was waiting! I hurried faster. I did not have time to enjoy the rainfall. I thought of enjoying the shower together with her. It took me another couple of minutes to be there. I reached her place just in time. I went past her mates in there – they had no visitors. I was the only one there – wet, but happy. I could see the bluish cross – no mistake, it’s her! I went near; sat by her grave. It was all sodden in this evening London rain. I took out the flowers and laid them by her chest. She felt it close to her heart – still thumping as mine. I felt she cried in bliss, that I could make it on her 87th forgotten birthday – even in this downpour. Tears were in my eyes too, but thanks to the raindrops – I went unnoticed.

THE BUTTERFLY - SAGAR

The cellphone in her hands started vibrating. She was momentarily startled, but then flipped it open and put it to her ear.

“Seven missed calls?!” Akash exclaimed from the other end. “I’m sorry, I was in my lectures — why didn’t you come today? And what’s up, dear? What happened?”

What happened. What a question, Sania thought. And although Akash knew very well most of what had happened, Sania involuntarily dropped into the reservoir of her memories...

 

It was 14 July, 2009. In all the excitement of her eighteenth birthday, she had unwittingly forgotten her ‘trusty little umbrella’, as she called it, at home. And she had chosen the worst possible day to do so, as the heavens had decided to make up for the late rains that very day.

The lectures were over a couple of hours early — Sania was spared the boring double Physics class as the prof couldn’t make it to college on account of the rains. However, she was extremely apprehensive to step out in the rains minus her umbrella. She felt the rains were a monster, lashing out at everything within sight. The 26 July massacre had only strengthened this opinion of hers. And then, the savior appeared.

Akash.

 

The guy’s calm, easygoing demeanor had blown Sania away ever sine she set her eyes on him, back in FYJC. As the days passed, her attraction towards him only continued to intensify, until, one day, she was forced to conclude in her diary: ‘This damn guy has totally taken over my life!’

“Hey Sania! Where’s your ‘trusty little umbrella’? Gone off to enjoy the rains?”

Akash had an amazing sense of humor. What Sania really liked about it was that it was tailored for the listener — showing how he singularly cared for each and everyone in his life.

“Well, yeah... it’s breached my trust...”

“Mine hasn’t... may I drop you, mistress?” Akash asked, doing the old-world English movie gesture that usually accompanies such a statement.

Chivalry, that endangered species of behavior... a clear indicator of a sense of individuality — while the world is ditching chivalry, he carves his own niche...

“Um... Sure, why not?” Sania, almost greedily, accepted.

Although they were in the same class since FYJC, it was only in FYBSc that Sania and Akash got on talking terms (adjacent Roll Numbers helped). And, a couple of days ago, Sania had written in her diary: ‘I may be kidding myself, but I think I see a hint of reciprocation...’

 

“Nice weather, don’t you think?” Akash commented. Due to the presence of Akash, even the weather on the planet Venus would qualify as ‘nice’ for Sania. She agreed. Never before had she enjoyed walking in the rain to this extent. She had heard descriptions of the rain as ‘romantic’; she now realized what they meant. The closeness she had so craved was granted to her. If only it changed to intimacy...

She felt something on her left shoulder. It took her a while to realize it was Akash’s hand. She looked up to him, and their eyes spoke a million words. Although around them vehicles were jostling for road space, honking violently, Akash and Sania were unperturbed, lost in their own world, the pitter-patter of the raindrops adding to their mood...

“There’s nobody at my place today...” Akash said. “Will you come over?”

 

What happened after ‘coming over’ was something that changed Sania forever. In the rare times that Sania thought of the moment when her hymen finally broke apart, she was filled with apprehensions. However, with Akash’s presence, it was all smooth. Although both of them were indulging for the first time, the apprehensions seemed to slither out of the (closed) window. It was, of course, the emotional connect that Sania cherished more than the physical one. All the same, the experience, to her, was like ‘a caterpillar finally shedding her cocoon to come out as a full-grown butterfly...’ And the best birthday gift she ever had.

 

But the first-timers had made a crucial mistake...

 

“Hello, you still there?”

Sania’s mind jumped back to the phone call with a jolt. She had to speak a dreadful truth.

“It’s been almost a month... and I — I’ve...”

“Sania,” Akash said, very calmly, “Tell me.”

And then, the words fell out of her mouth. “I’m pregnant.”

The next thing Sania knew was a powerful slap on her face by her father.

 

—Two Hours Later —

 

“Doctor, is she okay?” Sania’s mother was asking.

“The patient is out of danger,” the doctor replied, “but I’m sorry, we couldn’t save the child.”

THE RAIN ‘GODDESS’ - MANORATHAN

The superior gets liberal

Showering pent up blessings,

Blessings of an unknown form:

Unfriendly, the apt countenance.

From heaven, she comes galloping,

The whip wielding, bindi’ed maiden,

Plucking away ripe yellow leaves as she lands,

Convincing the roots to undo themselves

With her persuasive postiche locks.

 

Piercing, he exclaims:

First droplets, on his armour,

The wind, his friend?

Benumbing him,

Or modulating her?

 

She, the powerful:

Her chillness percolates him,

No mercy! The wind snaps away.

Darkness enshrouding him,

Gloom all around.

 

Steps traced inattentively,

As his heart races nonchalantly

To the ancient fortresses

Of his life that is dead,

Speeding up, and slowing down:

Her dictations, her fluctuations.

Soft susurrations,

Loud weepy wails;

Leafy rustlings,

Bacchanalian random drum beats.

 

His head bent low, then, and now;

Muddy shoes on his feet, then, and now,

Enshrouded in an ocean of similarity,

A friendly anonymity,

He starts seeing a mother in her,

Like a child that cries:

Mother’s arms, and the unfailing comfort.

The assumed mother, disrobes herself in a flash,

Exposing the vulnerable;

Impertinent flashes:

Her debauched camera snaps!

 

An eager friend

An innocent believer

A hopeless lover

A promising son

A timid school boy.

His first motorcycle ride

His first day in college

His first crush

His mom’s illness

His first break up

Caught the camera!

 

Multitudes of water dripping down his boots,

Foot raised with multiple questions,

In a direction, favoured by a destination?

Wayside adornments – unspeakable oddities:

Domestic dirt, liberated, and abandoned,

Now stinking, the rain long gone,

And the air, clear, but heavy!

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

WHEN IT RAINS! – AZRA

When it rains
I'm hoping you are thinking of me(more than anything else)
-out on the road, or
by the window side,
or wherever else.

You watch the rain

coloring up the world around you_

The coolness, freshness

And that aroma of damp earth

the sensation rain evokes in you
the mood it sets,

and the magic and intimacy...

Do you think of me then?



When it rains,

I hope the feelings it stirs up in you

Are the same feelings (i hope) I cause in you.



Is my fragrance in the moist breeze?

(which whips up memories long forgotten)

Do the drizzles that softly kiss your cheek

(remind you of our walks in the rain?)

Those drops slipping down your arms to your hands (your hands...)

do you find me in them?

When a wind blew off your umbrella

did you remember the times I dragged you into the downpour??
Does the soft music of the monsoons

echo with my voice



Guess I should just let go of it all.

Because,
Instead of you thinking of me (when it rains)

It's me thinking of you.

-Not the other way round

Which is actually what I want.



Now
Together

Only

In the lines of my poems.


And the distance between

filled by

rains,
the music we shared
and
those coffee cups.



Can you see me,
The way I see you
Standing there

Just beyond the shimmering veil

of falling rain drops.
With a small smile.

(Yes, even your smallest smile will do)

Friday, July 17, 2009

PAINKILLER


The pain was still there. Her whole body ached. So did her heart.  Every time she would see the marks on her body, she would feel filthy. The pain was taking a toll on her.

She went back to the dressing table and pulled out the drawer. The three pills were still there. All three in different colours and shapes. Painkillers. She'd bought three different types just to find out which one worked best for her. Got them without a prescription. Money buys everything.

Except happiness.

He came home late at night, 1 a.m. to be precise. Drunk as usual. He yelled out for dinner. He wasted half of it. She silently cleaned the mess. He switched on the television and played it all full volume while she went to bed. He came back an hour later, and tried waking her up. He slapped her when she didn't wake up the first time. She was aware that it was time for him to feed on her. He tore off her night gown and made LUST to her. He stunk of cheap liquor. And then he fell asleep, while she wept bitterly. She wept pain…dismay…

He was a pain.

She opened her eyes only to see him lying in bed like a monster. His arms dirtied with the lust, his mind sickened of rape and his breath choked with stink. It was all suffocating for her. Tormenting, to be precise. She put his body aside, covered hers with the sheet and walked to the dressing table. She popped one of the pills. The pain barely subsided.

The next night he came home a little early. But he was drunk again. He had a CD in his hand. He pushed away the dinner she had set out and spread out a cheap bar on the dinner table. He played the CD. Hardcore Porn. He drooled. She went to bed in disgust. He followed her in an hour later. She pretended to be asleep when she noticed the wild look in his eyes. He sat himself on the bed and barked her an order to wake up. She pulled up the sheets. He slapped her and pulled her up. He tried on her what he saw on the CD. He was rough. He was violent. He hurt her. She writhed in pain.

He was a pain.

As always, when he was in his wild dreams of the tutorial he saw on the CD, she covered her bleeding body with the sheet again and walked to the dressing table. She popped another pill. This one worked slightly better than the one she had last night. But the pain still remained.

Tonight he came home pretty early. This time he wasn't drunk. He told her he needed 2 lakhs in cash, and that she should fetch it from her parents. She refused. He pulled out the thick leather belt that held his trousers and began whipping her. She screamed in pain. He didn't stop. She begged him to stop. He didn't.

She grabbed a half-empty whiskey bottle lying on the dinner table and smashed it on his temple. He dropped down. He wasn't moving. She grabbed another bottle and smashed it in his face. She loved the way his blood slowly travelled along his skin. That skin which had been anything but pure. She was in love with him…. But in love with the dead him!

She went to her dressing table, pulled out the drawer and picked up the last pill. She walked back to the still body, picked up a bottle of rum, popped the pill, and took a swig from the bottle. She swept the hair off her face.


The pain was gone...probably forever.




She'd finally found a Painkiller that worked.


--- Shruti aka Shane & CRD