In love with the rains

The broken bits of music wafted into the kitchen early Sunday morning as Nandini read the morning paper, waiting patiently for the coffee to get ready. She tapped her feet to it, filling up the broken bits as the radio coughed and skipped parts of the raga. She didn't mind, she knew the piece well and sang along with her mother's honey-like voice, never looking up, engrossed constantly in the paper.

By the time the sound of steam escaped the coffee maker, the sky was dark and it had started to rain. The radio was playing well now, the music was inter-spread with the sound of falling water, some hitting the mud outside the house and making a thumping sound, some screaming in joy as they clashed with the tin roof of the garage, while the rest found other homes and made numerous other sounds. The wind chime joined in soon, as the cold wind from the river found a path towards the land. It was all a beautiful melody together, unusual sounds mixing - Nandini, her now deceased mother, the rains, the wind, the chimes.

With the cup of coffee ready she walked into the study, looking for Manoj. She followed the music, still swaying to its beauty, her mind constantly humming the tune, her heart playing along and egging her on for some mischief. Manoj was already dozing off with the book half open and a half smoked cigarette kept in the ashtray, small wisps of smoke still escaping from its half lit end. He was trying to quit and smoking only half a cigarette was the latest in his list of efforts.

She took a small puff from the almost dying cigarette and let it work on her. Slowly dipping her finger into the hot-sweet cup of coffee she let her finger slowly spread it over his lips and week-long beard, her other hand played with his hair. His nap broken, he opened his eyes slowly and smiled as she sat on his lap and struggled with his already haphazardly worn mundu.

It was over within seconds, as her body erupted into spasms of ecstasy, while he held her tightly. The coffee was lukewarm as they enjoyed it together lying on the floor, still looking mischievously into each others eyes, the mundu entwined with their bodies, even as Nandini's mother reached her own crescendo and the piece finally ended.

Image ref - www.corbis.com

The smell of my mogra

'How much for a bunch?', I asked, the bitter taste of my last cigarette still fresh in my mouth and on my fingertips. I liked how the faint smell of tobacco remained on my fingers, sometimes even hours after my last session with the cigarette; a far cry from the past when it disgusted me, of course my past was way past my present and no longer a part of me.

I paid the tiny sum of Rupees five to the old lady and took the sweet smelling flowers wrapped in fresh, wet green leaf. I had never quite bought flowers like this before, but this was an impulsive purchase and anomalies were allowed here. I walked further in the dimming twilight of the first cold evening of January , reading the names of shops passing by, in a language I barely understood.

I smelt them much later, through the open edges of the green leaf. The fragrance took me by surprise, I never expected it to be so extraordinarily beautiful. People stared at me as I stood right there, in the middle of the ocean of people flowing all around. Shoulders brushed against mine, and clothes rustled as everyone rushed past, some going home while others away from it. Everyone was busy. I stood alone.

I met Sonia an hour later in our usual cafe, the fragrance still with me, the flowers tucked away safely in the side pocket of my backpack. This was our last coffee date, but I heard nothing, even when she screamed and stormed out. This was her moment, yet I robbed it off her, though unintentionally. She could have stayed back and screamed some more, I wouldn't have minded. I was happy with the beauty I now possessed, with the unexpected joy of connecting with myself through the faint smell, with the mystery these little white flowers were going to reveal to me in the night.

I had the flowers crushed on my face as I worked upon myself, building up a climax I barely even knew existed. I was in a trance while the smell filled all the space around me. The bed sheet was damp with my sweat later, even as the fan whirred slowly overhead and I lay satisfied with the faintest ever smile on my face.

I got a fright the next morning when the flowers wilted and their beauty waned. The grief was as unexpected as the joy of finding their beauty the previous evening. I slept through the morning and the afternoon, dreaming intermittently about Sonia and the white flowers, my throat going dry and an expectation building up at the thought of the old woman and buying the flowers again. Even before the sunlight started fading, I was ready to go out and explore. I wasn't the same animal anymore.

The Road Trip

I wasn't out on the road for the speed, or the thrill or even to travel. Or to meet new people, take part in their lives or simply to enjoy the moment, alone on my own. I didn't yet know why I was out for the almost three days now. Maybe to belong, maybe to un-belong. I didn't know.

The past two days were just the same, long winding roads, green all around, occasional people crossing my path, occasional cars overtaking me, occasional rains that I always missed. Nothing new, nothing unusual. Yes I was on a road trip, but I was alone. I was out to meet someone, someone who lived far, someone who used to be mine, someone who had moved on.

It drizzled as I started my third and the last day. I had originally planned to drive through the night and reach the end early in the morning, but then I saw the sand dunes and decided to camp. It was nothing like I had ever experienced before. I drove into the dunes and went as far away from the road as possible, trying to disappear, half hoping to lose my sense of bearings and get lost in these ever changing waves of sand. A sudden stillness around made me stop and look up, and look at the stars. The sky was clear now, despite the clouds and mild rains in the afternoon. I came out of the car and without even realising, screamed at the glittering sonsofbitches. They didn't flinch, and I screamed even more, never realising how tears flowed ever time I screamed.

Tired and drenched in my sweat and tears, I slept in the car itself, never bothering to camp, or look at the bright dark blue sky and the stars. All I felt was the hollowness around me, a complete lack of feelings, an absence of emotions. There was smoke, smoke of my own making. It overwhelmed me.

Morning came easily and without even thinking I went back to the road and continued driving. When rains came once again I stopped, and decided to get drenched finally. I didn't know if I would do it again today, or ever. But I couldn't feel the rain, I didn't feel anything, at all. How can things be so empty, how can I be so lost? I knew there was little meaning in going forward, and even lesser in taking the road back. The road didn't take me anywhere, anymore. Suddenly I was free of any questions, and my mind sought no answers.

I knew nothing, yet my mind and heart told me that I knew it all. There was immense knowledge in not knowing, and accepting that this was how things were always meant to be. Why seek answers, when there were none? At least none for me.

I didn't survive. I didn't exist anymore. I was dead. Finally.


Epilogue: The body of a dead man was found a days later and a few miles from the highway, rotting inside the car, stranded in the desert. The cause of death was confirmed to be Carbon Monoxide poisoning inside the locked car.




Thanks to Tej for the illustration, read and know more about him here and here.

magnolia woman

Ref: www.judithkmcmillan.com

Woman, oh my wonderful Magnolia woman,

see how you make me cry.

As I lie on your feet,

waiting for you reply.

I long for the kick,

as much as I long for your lick.

I long for your caress,

all the slaps you gave me under duress.

I lay helpless even now,

Shapeless, spineless, ready to be molded like a lump of clay.

Give me a form again,

Let me be something again, let me play.

But I know you are gone forever,

never will I hear from you again.

I shall remain as I am today,

A dead vegetable, a helpless swain.

We walk together, one last time...

I woke up with the smell of fresh coffee beans getting brewed that winter morning. She was already up and getting coffee ready for us. Quite unusual considering that it was a Sunday and making coffee was a task designated to me, I was good at it.

It was just the beginning of series of events that were highly unusual to my life. The night started as usual, but by the time we made love and fell asleep into each others arms, it had already started snowing outside. I had never lived in this town in the winters, and had never seen a snowfall here before. We both smiled, and snuggled into each other one last time, to commemorate our last night together.

There was coffee for me and orange juice for her, just the way it had always been. We knew how difficult this day would be, and had been preparing for it for a while already. She wasn't ready still, I could see her hands shaking as she passed on the cup to me; maybe it was the snow outside, I wasn't convinced still. We decided to take it slow and make it into a long and lazy day and she snuggled up right next to me under the white and blue gilaaaf.

We knew no one would disturb us today, no one knew where we were. We had our numerous hide-outs but this place was new, known to everyone, yet completely unknown to all. She had been insisting for years to visit this old house with me, somehow things had never worked out for us, till yesterday that is. The major portion of the day yesterday was spent getting things in order and for the house to start functioning again. I knew there wont be any more visits to this house, the memories would be too painful, yet we had to do something to not think about the coming day. Kitchen couldn't get functional and we had to survive on the bread that she always carried with her, apart from the orange juice.

Snow had made it impossible to venture out, even the shops were closed and paths blocked. I knew it would be tough to drive the car in this weather, and so dropped all plans of venturing out. Turning together in the bed, we looked out outside from the window behind the bed. Everything was beautiful, serene, yet cold and almost eerily dead. We kissed lightly and decided to sleep again, the morning was not going to get over any time soon for us.

It was the noise of the kids playing with ice which woke me a little before noon, apart from the intense pressure in my bladder. As I stood half asleep and trying to aim, she came from behind and held it for me, something I was expecting already. We spent the next hour sitting in the British era loo, I gave her company by drinking the hot coffee (of course, cold now), while she gulped down two glasses of orange juice to help her bowel movement. No help came, and finally we decided to let things be as they were.

She walked ahead, while I followed her into the kitchen. Breakfast on Sundays too was my preserve, today she took it over from me. She warmed up the already boiled eggs while I made another round of coffee, we were both were certified coffee addicts. In fact it was coffee which bought us together years ago, but that is another long story, there may be another time for that later.

She sat down at the old wooden dining table while I lit up the fire, and drew the huge curtains. As I sat down on the creaky chair, the dust from the curtains too settled down, making a thin sheath on everything in the room, including us and the food. I sipped my coffee while she walked around, this all was new for her. I had described most of the objects in the room already to her, and now she wanted to touch these, feel these, there won't be another day like this after this. She kept asking questions, never looking for any answers. She knew most answers and for the rest I had none; I didn't respond either, simply content looking at her naked body walking across the room.The eggs remained untouched, and were soon cold again. This was our second attempt at eating them already since yesterday,

There wasn't a word we exchanged since the time we got up, yet there was no discomfort. We knew all that was there to know, the rest was all immaterial. The day was passing slowly, but for us every minute spent today was a lifetime spent together. Everything was romantic, the only thing missing were the fights; despite her monologues with herself, everything was completely silent around. We let it all lapse in the background, while we whiled away our last few hours together, looking into each other, looking around at all the things we shared, though seen together only now. There was no music, unusual again for us, but silence was the music today.

The moment came fast, almost like a bolt of lightning, yet she was silent and strangely poised. There was no electricity today as well, and we had to manage ourselves with only one candle. I could see only a part of her in the mirror as I stood behind her with the candle, while she put her clothes on. She took her time, and the candle was finished by the time we sat again together to eat the eggs. I lit the match sticks one after the other, till all of them were finished. Every time there was a flicker, I found her looking intently into my eyes.

We walked together outside. The chill in the air was frightening and I had the most tremendous urge to just turn and go back inside. But walked ahead, there was no turning back now anymore. There were no goodbyes, no holding of hands, no tears, no uncomfortable moments, no comforting hugs. This was the end, as she walked away into the darkness, never looking back.

A full night of kinky ecstasy...

She got up with and came towards him, curling up her upper lip and suggestively playing with the rope in her hands. This was new, she had never done this before and his pulse ran high with anticipation. There were sweat beads on his head, which she casually wiped off with the soft cotton rope, which in turn gave him numerous goose bumps...

This wasn't the first time they were trying something new together, it was only a week back when she had insisted on trying food on bed, a suggestion he jumped at. However, the evening ended with lots of food and wine on bed but nothing else followed. They were too drunk by the time they finished and slept off in the different corners of the bed; it was only in the morning that they realised that there was food all over the bed and on them. They decided to call it a failed experiment, and vowed never to repeat it!

Not that today was risk-free, there was a high probability that he might just end up dead after this new round of experimentation. He had never seen her with a rope before, and wasn't quite sure if the complicated knot she was trying to tie around his neck would work out exactly as she thought it would. There was something child-like about her, her innocence and of course, her laughter. For a second he forgot that it wasn't Sheila, but someone else with her.

She was successful in tying the knot around his neck, only to realise that it was his hands that she had originally intended to tie. Not the one give up, as all attempts to loosen the knot failed, she went around looking for scissors, failing which the search for the knife started. And there it was, the jet black and shining knife, clutched solidly in her left hand (her right had still had the leather hunter, to be used with better results later), looking vicious at me and ready to strike. Sheila was still hopeful of salvaging the night and refused to free her right hand, the hunter continued to dangle seductively. The knife went to work, and as expected, chipped off a piece of his neck along with the rope. There was a little blood but for them it just added to the kink. Almost on cue, the hunter came hard on him and more noises of ecstasy followed.

However, they failed to stop the flow of blood from the neck, a fact they initially found very funny. They laughed together, but by the time he choked laughing, there was blood all over the bed and smeared on their bodies. She laughed more, thinking about the food and red wine on them last week, while he stared at her with glazed eyes. They were blissfully happy for the hour, and he, dead thereafter.

WnM - food

W and M are on a phone call. After discussing the very distinct possibility of an alien spaceship visiting their respective cities, they get on with the other topics. Surprisingly food comes up for discussion. 

W: Let's eat the same food together.
M: Superb idea. What do you want to make? I am game for anything.
W: Hmmm...
M: We can make daal and rice and eat it with salad.
W: eeeeeeeee... 
M: Oh am really sorry :(
W: I can't eat all this in life anymore :(
M: Sure sure. Lets make khichdi. 
W: eeeeeeeee... 
M: Oh am really sorry :(
W: I can't eat all this in life anymore :(
M: Ok lets make something continental. Pasta?
W: But I do not have pasta with me.
M: Hmmm...
W: I have a better idea.
M: Ah...
W: Lets not eat.
M: What??? Why???
W: I think you eat too much food.
M: What???
W: Yes, I want you to starve.
M: What???
W: Yes. And if you really hungry you can drink a cup of chai, preferably with no sugar.
M: What??? Please don't do this to me :|
W: Shut up. You will do exactly as I say.
M: Please dear. Have some heart.
W: Now I have to finish my very interesting book now, the cat is almost ready to devour the dog. Drink tea, if you really have to. Now goodbye.

M realises that the call is already over. He looks blankly at the phone and a smile crosses his face. He goes and makes Maggi and savors it with black, strong and sugar saturated coffee.

Moral of the story: There are advantages of a long-distance relationship. You DON'T have to starve every single night.

WnM - movies

W and M are talking on the phone. M, as usual, is going for a movie and getting late. W, as usual, isn't impressed with what M does to entertain himself.

W: What are you doing?
M: I am going for a movie?
W: What? Movie? Again? Didn't you see one last week also? I just don't believe this!!!
M: Huh!
W: I hate this!
M: Huh!
W: And I hate you!
M: Huh!
W: What movie is this?
M: Its a Hindi movie.
W: AND I am sure it has a name!!!
M: Its called...err... 'Teri Jawani, Meri Mohabbat'.
W: WHAT? Why are you doing this to yourself? Please M...I can't live like this. I need someone who sees no movies, certainly not Hindi movies!!!
M: Huh!
W: I need a break-up!
M: Huh!
W: RIGHT NOW!
M: Honey its already movie time, and did I tell you that it has my favorite actress Jamuna playing the lead.
After a pause.
M: And we can have a break-up the next time we meet. This will also give you enough time to purchase me a nice break-up present.

W starts sobbing, and then the dam breaks and she starts crying, followed by some serious howling. Suddenly M remembers that he must have made a blunder somewhere in the conversation and tries to rewind it all back in his mind. He finds nothing wrong in his replies. But his past experience tells him that its time for sorry and missing the first half of the movie.

Reluctantly he walks away from his friends who all give him sympathetic glances and nods. M misses Jamuna on big screen. AGAIN.

Moral of the story: Never reveal the name of the one who fires your dreams and imaginations to your girl friend. And if possible DO NOT watch any Hindi movies either.

WnM - jewelry purchase

W and M have gone out shopping, due to some constraints at home.
W wants to buy ear-studs from an old mini-shop. M needs to stand by her.

W: I am telling you bhaiya, the diamond (of course fake) will come off very soon.
Shopkeeper: No madam, I am telling you this will not come off.
W: But I am telling you that this will surely come off.
W looks at M for support. M immediately comes to her defense.
M: Yes bhaiya, this will surely come off.
Shopkeeper: No madam, this won't come off.
Shopkeeper completely ignores M, M feels dejected and looks around at a pissing cow.
W: Show me some more designs. Something in gold.
W and shopkeeper discuss designs, weather, and prices. Soon M goes back to her initial apprehensions.
W: But bhaiya, I know the diamond will come off.
Shopkeeper: No madam, my guarantee this won't come off.
W: I know!!! You think I have grown this old without knowing anything.
Shopkeeper: Trust me madam, even after six months if this comes off, I will come and replace it for you.
W: So you also think this might come off then?
Shopkeeper: No madam, this will never come off.
W: Are you sure?
Shopkeeper: Yes madam, this is my promise.
W and Shopkeeper start looking at a few more designs, discussing designs that all look the same. M is wondering if more animals will come and shit/ piss/ make faces/ eat newspapers. W is now ready to pay the money, but she has one last question.
W: Bhaiya are you sure, this won't come off?
Shopkeeper: Yes madam, I am very sure.
W: But my experience says otherwise. I am not sure.
At this point the studs are already in her ears, and has even paid the money.
Shopkeeper: I already told you, I am just a phone call away.
W: True, but I have always seen these diamonds falling off soon after the purchase.
Shopkeeper: No madam, not the ones I sell.
W: Are you really sure?
Shopkeeper: Yes madam.
M is already pulling out his hair, though only in his head.

Moral of the story: DO NOT accompany W for shopping, especially when the aim is to buy jewelery!
OR
Make sure you take her out shopping on a day when the mood swings are extreme, and let the shopkeeper take the impact!

WnM - shoes

W: We need to go shopping today, I have a gift voucher for Rs. 100
M: Oh!
W: I can buy some footwear.
M: Oh!
W: Its a shop I love. And you don't have a choice.
M: Oh!
After a pause.
M: You mean hawai-chappals ala Bata chappals?
W: Are you mad? I was thinking of buying some cool chic footwear, something cheap and within 1K as the voucher amount isn't exactly huge.
M look around at least about 10 pairs of sandals, chappals, shoes and wonders why!
M: But you surely don't need another pair right away?
W glares, M backs off. Sweat is building on M's forehead. And the wind has stopped blowing. M is regretting everything he said.
W: You don't even know what I need now! So much for knowing me and caring for me. I want a black one with heels!!!
M looks around at three pairs which fit the exact description, including one bought from the same shop a few months back. M decides to remain silent. Smart.
M: I think its an awesome idea honey.
At this point W leans over suggestively over M, M thanks Cosmopolitan!

Moral of the story: Read women's magazines for disaster management tips.