Tuesday, January 17, 2006

To Life...

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Haven't tried my hand at poetry in a long time (since I broke up with my first girl). Well, now that my job demands it, I
have no go.
To the desire that drove us through joy and sorrow
To the hope that promised us a better tomorrow
To the ambition that showed us light all the way
To the trust that helped us through night and day
To the one thing that made all that happen

To the many ups that followed a down
To the wonderful smile at the end of a frown
To the promising day that brightened the night
To the vision that made every morning a delight
To the one thing that made all that happen

To the dreams we have passionately shared
To the ones who have selflessly cared
To the joyous hours we have always cherished
To the challenges we have always relished
To the one thing that made all that happen

To life...

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

She - part 1

Posted by Picasa the chosen one!

December is an extremely cold month in Bangalore. The perspiration beads on his forehead did not seem to bother. Well, they had every reason to be there. After all, he was going to pick a girl up. Yes, a girl. Not just any girl, but the girl. It was a special occasion. His friends had come down from the neighbouring town. He had always been an entertaining host, the taurean in him just helped the cause. Maybe, for a change,he could entertain himself too. 'Was it that special?', he smirked - a smirk covered in sarcasm, disdain and disbelief. At a distance, he could see the blinking lights of a vehicle. He was getting closer to his destination - his heart pounded away in agreement. He slowed down the bike as he neared the vehicle, making sure it was the one. He stopped, waited for a couple to pass, and then progressed towards the vehicle under the tree.

She sat in the corner of a Maruti van, notorious in the business. She was amongst seven other girls packed into the back of the van. They were waiting - for someone they wished would never come. His eyes almost missed her as they wandered around the crowded little cabin. Tucking away in a corner, she might have been hoping to avoid him…but it wasn’t to be her day... nor his. “She is nice,” the words left him almost instinctively. He hadn’t seen the entire group, but he was glad he had seen her. She was timid, pretty and maybe 20.( How easily did I say that!) For all the cold outside, she wasn’t wearing anything warm or maybe... she wasn’t allowed to.

The pimp seemed to have the whole world to save as he pulled her out and grabbed the money from his hand. He wanted to bargain, but for the tension and urgency in his mind, it wasn’t worth it. His pride was at stake at the very familiar 100ft road. Anybody could have spotted him. A relative, a close friend or anybody for that matter. As he paid the money and hastened towards the bike, she followed him obediently. She was shivering as they rode home,he could tell that from the trembling arm she rested on his stiff shoulder. The human in him urged him to offer her his cap, but again, the human in him made him think otherwise as he sped through a multitude of familiar faces. He couldn't be spotted with such a girl. How disgraceful can that be! He smirked again, this time unsure of whom or what it was meant for.

She quietly climbed up the stairs as he accompanied her to what was to be ‘the slaughter chamber.’ He had a million things to ask her, but thought better of otherwise. The first time she opened her mouth was to politely decline the water he offered her. He left the room without a word. She had just used her last bit of freedom for the night by declining him. She couldn't reject anything anymore. Leave alone a glass of water, not even humiliation; not even the ripping apart of her self-esteem.Not even...anything. As he slowly sank into the couch in the next room, it struck him, and struck him hard. He couldn’t do it. For all the manhood in him, for all the lust boiling inside him, he couldn’t. His guests had already started making jokes about a carton of condoms they had bought, and how the vendor was stunned at the purchase, and a few other dirty jokes about whoring and STDs. He enjoyed none. Whenever they stared at him for acknowledgement, he managed a wry smile.

One by one, they climbed up and came back. Like heroes who had won a battle for their motherland, they had their own tales of conquests. Not the kind any one of those great warriors would be proud of. The tales about how each one had managed to make her plead them to stop, how they had exercised positions unknown to even Vatsyay, and a lot many tales of how the man in every one had just proven how less he had evolved. Finally, it was his turn. He knew he couldn’t go alone. He thought about it for a minute or two and then decided. He decided to take a couple of pegs of whisky along, a trusted companion in many a dilemma, many a situation where he was lost for words, and incapable of deeds.

(to be continued...)