Sunday, August 5, 2012

Chapter Three : Sail away with me honey


Elias knew this was a ploy. She was just saying it. She never loved him, the way he loved her; or so he thought. There was no profoundness in this scheme, they were going to kill her as soon as she got out of here. She had too much red on her ledger.
There was something more to this, they were after the coat. They would burn it for sure, yes. But what was so special about Petrucia's coat?
"Is there something you aren't telling me Viviane?"
"Even if there was, would I show it?," she smirked while she caressed his back a little. He held her too tight for a second, feeling a little too overwhelmed for a second there.
She whispered to him. "This might not be the best time..."
He threw her against the wall. As if he was holding something objectionable and snarled at the thought of her touching him. She placed her hand on her stomach and tried to smoothed the fabric against her body, looking straight at Elias.
"I won't do that again."
"Viviane, you're unbelievable. I am not going to fall for this again. I can't keep fighting this battle in my head. I want to treat you like filth. Because, that's what you've become."
Silence. They looked at each other with a confused expression that was both loving and averse.
"I want to help you Elias. There wont be any strings attached after this. And then we could...," she peered into his eyes. He looked at her once, like a lover... gazing into her honey drop eyes.
"Everybody lies, Viviane. And I hope you're lying to me right now."
"I love your way with words. But, don't forget that there are twelve men watching you right now".
And then he saw it. She was wearing the pendant he had given her.
"Touche."
"It's alright Elias. They can only see you," she smiled.
He smiled back and kissed her full on the mouth. As passionately as ever.

Chapter Two : And all I taught her was, everything.


“Why don’t I make an offer to you Elias? Something with nothing to lose, just lower your gun a little”
Elias knew this was what she was after. But he couldn't help but listen to the proposition. He lowered his gun and pointed towards the exit.
“I want to know why Mascarenas didn't kill me”
“There there, give that old man a break, he steals and cheats but never kills. He’s got no balls.”
Elias let out a big laugh. He wanted to see where the men were stationed while the one woman he didn’t want pointing a gun at him, walked by his side toward the light. He looked around but couldn't see a soul. Binoculars maybe then.
“They want you to hand over Petrucia’s coat. It’s very dear to them and you know how they get when something of theirs is stolen”
“They want to burn the coat with her body?” Elias chuckled.
“Something like that… old debts you see. He had promised her”
“This might have nothing to do with the coat being the only evidence against Danny, now would it?” he smiled at her.
“Of course not honey, it’s just a matter of love. You give them the coat, they give you your life back. Simple?”
“If only."  He raised his hand to her waist, took her gun and pushed her closer to him.
“What have they offered you?”
“Freedom. Sweet luscious freedom.” She laughed heartily and held him tighter while his gun rested near her temples.
“You don’t want to kill me, Elias. I am the only person who has ever loved you."

Chapter One : Black bird singing in the dead of night


Elias shot Mr. Mascarenas just above the knee at point blank range. He screamed through clenched teeth. Mascerenas looked at Elias with an expression of pure disgust. Elias had done the smart thing; he had waited till Mascarenas struggled, gliding his weak body to the corner of the room and splashed his face with hot scalding water. Mascarenas laughed after he felt his ears for the first time.
Elias passed out right after he saw the smirk on his face.
After what seemed like yesterday, he felt a rat tug on his shoes. He woke up in a start of repulsive hatred. Mascarenas was gone and so was the rat. He ruffled his hair in pain and got up to see bright light staring into his eyes. Great, drugged with a tiny needle.
“Hello, Elias," said a sweet voice from the back of his head. He turned and there she was.
“Hullo, my love." She jumped to kiss her lover the one last time.
There is always, always a woman involved, he thought.
“Been stuck here for a long time now, is it?”
“Not really, a couple of hours maybe.”
“Interesting, I met Mascarenas last night... I am guessing you spent the night here.”
There was momentary silence and in a flash both of them had raised their guns at each other. Elias came to sense his surroundings and the stench that came from his beloved.
“Been to the sea have you?” asked Elias with a smile on his face.
“Oh, I am sorry if the stench bothers you. I arrived just yesterday, didn’t have a reason to have a shower first before I came here.”
“Aah, Viviane. You always humor me. Nice way to remember our last together.”
Viviane smirked and began unbuttoning her blouse.
“Seducing me to surrender, are we?”
“Hahah, don’t be foolish, darling. It’s just so hot in here... don’t you think?”
She stood before him, gun still pointed at his head, sweat trickling down her neck.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Poems from Nepal

These were some poems I wrote on my trip to Nepal last year.
About nature, ghats of benaras and the kumari of Nepal.


Tap the ash, tap your soul;

Host the sun in between, a poor soul standing on his feet,
Smokes his cigarette and puffs in his sleep,
Wasn’t the river a silent gush of wind?
Watering the parched with the water so deep
Waiting for a boat to float in the morning daze,
It shines and gleams and reflects a person in haze
And questions your purity and mocks your forward-thinking
That you dip your hand and shake the water daily
Hoping it bounces your image for your inkling

The shore is white and the pearls absorb its light
You pick up what’s different
Forgetting that nature needs its elements
 The stars don’t always look bright
It’s because you steal nature in its might

The clarity of the waves, swift threads of algae
Isn’t this what we meditate for;
Isn’t this a fight for our valley?
Remind me if I forget
It was this that made us,
Forests and rivers
Now they seem like purple haze
When we touch them with knives and choppers
Don’t await an intervention
God doesn’t do that chore
Think about what you would mention
When your children won’t find clean rivers anymore.




A ghat affair

Uneven stairs, shining in the night
Dark clouds of moisture
Waiting for a life of delight
But then death peeks from beneath
Scaring the boat to topple a little
Theres screaming and shouting
And a lady faints in disbelief
The boat moves on and so does life
At a distance
You smell the flesh, burnt and dead;
Didn’t you come for here salvation?
Oh wait, sadness will fix your head
The river still flows calmly,
Afterall we pray for its existence,
And its understanding of human waste
Its purity will never be questioned,
 Even when it flows alongside the ghats
With flowers and oil diyas in tow
Our dead welcome them in a row

They mesmerize you at dusk
With seven pujaris and their devotion
Thousands of devotees gathered in musk
Forget what the river was asking for,
The beauty of the lights and the diyas
Trick them into believing a life of before

But the ganga is still calling
She has stopped singing though
There was a time her worship was for her purity
She says,
Now she doesn’t remember how many bodies she lay.





Naked eyes


She stares into your eyes,
For the four seconds she looks at you
You wonder how she feels
With no sadness, no speck of blue

Her life is chained in those doors,
Because some hundred thousand years ago,
They played with the emotions of women
Calling them impure, stealing even their children’s shadow

She doesn’t know how to cook,
How to look, because she was defined with sacrifices
Many many years back,
She is the living goddess,
Chained in her puberty
To later solicit her masses

We look at her with awe, anger,
Disgust, contempt, sadness
But all she returns is a hollow stare
That crushes your hopes
For a dream of her freedom.
I cannot click a picture of the goddess,
They say it isn’t allowed
They sell her postcard to me later,
Selling her soul to the other thousands in the crowd.
  
I feel very lonely when I look outside
There is no equal, no woman in sight.
Yesterday the radio said
‘come one and all, we have a prime minister of might’
But is this our victory?
When he fears his own life in the dead of the night?

A gentle knock on the door,
Is alarming sometimes,
A fear of life, a fear of this nations plight. 

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Shreds of existence

Live just another day
To bring back thoughts
Of innocence and simplicity
Or the subject of extremity,
With a pinch of actuality.
Lose in the closet or the clouds of cotton,
While the sun stares down too hard
and the kitten disturbs the tranquillity of the lard
Did you know that a world could be woven?
With shreds of forms
That breathe into life everytime you would fall.
The prospects and propositions of a being other than yours
Could be like a child in that monkey cap,
Reading your eyes with a start.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

:O

This is incredible. To grasp and monitor a world out there. That exists in somebody's mind. A control of an audience so large and comprising.