Bottled Poison

I lay back amid the advancing and the receding waters basking in the 5:00p.m sun. There was virtually no one around as people find no more the enjoyment of the enchanting but the slow boring beach when compared to the visual images of colorful moving objects in the T.V screen these days. The water kept kissing my feet and secretly threatening me by incessantly removing the soft sand beneath me. A few nearly naked boys played football with seemingly empty coconut shells, giggling and rant with all the pulling and pushing. My thoughts rushed back to my own childhood. My old memories, those carefree times, that innocent childishness. I know that I'm late, late by so many years. I grew out of my childhood, my youth but never out of my memories and they continue to linger with me, sometimes mellow, sometimes afflictive with the associations which have gone away from my life. Some dead, some lost with time.

A sudden spray of sand into my eyes jolted me into reality and I grimaced and sat up rubbing my eyes in fear. I felt a soft hand and a pleading voice intrude my space.

"I'm sorry, I'm very, very sorry"
"what the fu__?"
"I'm so sorry, I..I'm wearing slippers.."
"Oh, shit," I spluttered, now spitting some sand too away from my mouth
"My feet...I was playing. I'm so...so sorry"

I felt the warmth, a soft lingering smell of feminine deodorant and the jingle of innocent bangles. Someone was now blowing into my eyes and rubbing my eyes with a softer cloth which held it. I blindly searched for the bottle of mineral water beside me and slowly stood up to wash my burning eyes. Slowly the lightness returned around me. I twitched the shutters of my sight and invited my trouble maker into my eye. A wide eye peeped into me and a smile broke into laughter. At the same moment the sun came out brighter, radiantly glowing her up. Her now golden hair laughed with the oceanic breeze and her twinkling eyes hallowed with the evening sun. Mystified I looked on. She was clad in a plain dress of blue chiffon with white delicate laces. She frolicked a nipped-in waist, loose neckline and free flowing swing skirt which bounced around upon umpteen layers of petticoats in time to the playful shakings of her head. Her full lips, perfectly heart shaped, were delicately moist and her eyebrows, pencil thin, recently beauty parloured.

Suddenly, the sky opened with lightning and the thunder overwhelmed the graceful capering of our moments. She dramatically looked up, crossed her arms petulantly across her bosom, as a sudden chill engulfed us. Rain appeared out of nowhere and began to moisten us slowly as if in a sweet domestic bliss. Our eyes simultaneously enjoined to a shack just by the beach and our feet carried us in unison.

The low roof of the shanty was cleverly placed above a long flat boulder dug deep as if from time immemorial. We sat gratefully. She bade up her long welling skirt and assayed to mop my mane. Sheepishly I no-no'ed her endeavor but her rebuke bowed my head. She lent herself too the aid as I attempted to be disinterested. Soon, we were watching the rain through the horizon created by the frame of the low roof shack and trying to escape the droplets cleverly making their way towards us through the feeble thatch.

The sudden proximity of warmth affected us both and we attempted to seek the corners of the stone bed. I could almost smell the enchanting aroma siring from her hair which half perched on my shoulders. An unmistakable spell lay upon us both and the pleasures of subservience shamefully encroached us both. I fished the corner of her eyes attempting to seek mine and the genesis of the growing heat in her body

Suddenly, my thoughts rushed upon my reality. They pricked the past and vomited it out. A sort of apology arose to my lips and I walked out in the relishing rain amid calls of a feminine soul


It's a legendary cliche to say that love is a juggling act, but there is some trueness to it. But to become responsible for another human soul casts your life out of balance.

Of Ghazals and Rain

I wake up from my deep slumber and dislodge myself from sleep's tired embrace last Sunday afternoon and with puffy eyes still closed I besought the remote for the usual ghazal, pump up the volume as I no longer wanted to hear my solitudinal heartbeats and dragged myself out of bed. It is the same as always; brainshitting - reminiscing and watching the sun melt into the horizon with the lullaby of the ghazals. I open up the balcony door and solemnly eye the grumbling rain pit-pattering on the road below. A sudden howling wind greets me with a shiver flaunting its new found friend. The ally sprays me with a greater force as if in protest and kissed my bareness. Nevertheless, I tug up the cushions, repose back on my recliner and inch toward the clearing to prop up my lazy legs on the rails. Glinting through the rain streaked balcony, my eyes greet the blurred view of the neighborhood veiled in thin blue mist. It looked all dull and gloomy, like the insides of a woebegone theater on the verge of collapse. The dampened glow of the sun, creeping from behind a flock of dark angry clouds was gearing up to signal the end of the day.

The coldness of the pelting rain battered my bare feet and I felt better to be punished so. Suddenly I longed the warmth of my already warm bed and the solace of my pillows. It will not be long before the world around me comes alive with the home bound birds and light seeking moths. I stretched out my arms and dared to catch the manna from the sky. The cusp held the water and stole the warmth from my now shivering arms. I watched in amusement as the rain water spattered into my cusped palms rhythmically matching the tempo of the tabla featured in the hollering gazal. It soon brimmed over and trickled down my shoulders. I now made bold my adventure to sustain the water in my palms. Not much of a plot but finding things appealing, I prepared to surrender my time, my patience, my strength; something I did more out of the absence of a better choice than need but I wanted probably to prove that I'm worthy of a worldly dedication.

The care of holding onto the few drops of water beat into my graying heart, clueless of the approaching darkness concealed behind the deep orange rays of sunset. Suddenly just like the sudden surge of life from the extinguishing candle, darkness mushed down. I longed to let go of my foolish endeavor and end it all. "Why was I acting this way?" I mused, taking apart my thoughts. Normally, nothing could work me into such a state, especially not on a lazy chilly Sunday. However, there I was, half-frenzied. Thoughts and many minutes ticked by.

My worse fears came true. A swarm of blood seeking mosquitoes started to assault me. The protests of my tummy joining in the cacophony of the neighboring rumbling tin roofs. My now aching arms started to shiver ever so lightly. A large moth fanned closely by my ears. And, eventually, the unavoidable happened - my door bell began to ring. I begged it to stop itself and the ringing in my ears to disappear. The persistence continued. Cursing the intruder into my space, I let go. I just let it go. I simply had to let it go and the water rushed out of my palms as if it saw heaven.

I opened the door and peeped out dramatically. Anger seethed on my face which evaporated as my eyes fell on the visitor. The annoying neighbor’s 5 year old sweet daughter stood on my door step holding steaming coffee and some hot cookies. She shyly held it out and sheepishly spurted out, “Mummy; Mummy said, Anil chetta has exams and the sound of the music is too loud.” I fumbled, “oh, sorry” and rushed inside and cupped the mouth of the screaming ghazal man.

Our love life is like this. We try to hold on to love as much as we can but so many external factors trouble us every time. We strain, we lie, we act, we impress but one day we wake up and find that intimacy is not really there anymore. The relationship (romance, lust, emotions) does not satisfy us anymore, and what we finally end up with is not what we really wanted in the first place. All we have is 2 self-centered individuals seeking self-satisfaction. The ingredients of true/genuine love and intimacy cannot be obtained "instantly," and one finds himself in an unbalanced state, searching for harmony. Sooner or later, halfway into the relationships we build walls around our selfish hearts to protect us from anyone on the outside getting in to hurt us. But that same wall which keeps all the people out, keeps us stuck inside.

A relationship never last long on emotions. The only apparent reason we try to hold on to a relationship/a person from a kinship that has ceased and long ended is because none of us actually really like to see ourselves as failures.